Ravenous, I thrash in fury, fuelling the storm's wrath. I've travelled far. Too many miles to turn back. I must feast soon or risk losing my soul.

At my command, clouds swirl, lightning blazes and thunder sings. Using turbulent thermals, I roam, searching for desperation - a potential feeder. Sensing a target, I ride a bolt from the troposphere, arriving on the ground amidst the remnants of a smouldering saguaro cactus. It's quiet. No houses. A good place to hunt. Inviting lights flicker in the distance. Becoming one with the wind, I tear across the Arizona desert.

A filling station, rusty, neglected, remote. Dilapidated signage reads 'Cactus Creek Gas - last fuel for 100 miles… or more'. Neon flickers. Shutters swing. Corrugated iron squeaks. A pickup truck idles at the pumps, a youth at the wheel. She's tense, agitated, not there for gas.

From inside the station's shop I hear a gunshot. Then another. Two men exit the building, grinning, glee dancing in dilated pupils. I can taste their selfishness, their cruelty. It's delicious. I want them, must have them, consume them, savour their screams… but they aren't ready. Not selected. Not branded by a feeder. Not marked as ghost fodder. Yet.

The pickup accelerates away, tyres spinning, lights like blurred halos amidst my army of raindrops. Their thumping music fades. They must not get far.

Riding a gust, I'm at the shop's window. Inside, a man and woman lie on the floor, both shot, both bloody, holding hands. The man's dead eyes stare at nothing. A pool of blood slowly expands around his head. The woman is alive, her jaw clenched, anguish gleaming in brown eyes. Sensing me, her head jerks up. I materialise, grimacing as I'm forced to take physical form in my accursed, putrid shell. I feel the weight of a storm-sodden cloak about my shoulders, heavy, weighing me down, slowing my movements. Now I am at my weakest. Vulnerable. Able to feed.

The stench of decay fills my nostrils. My own slimy lips and tongue repulse me. As I step from the shadows, lightning flashes and the woman screams.

I shuffle inside the gas station's shop. It's rundown, shelves half empty. Dying. Like its owners.

Do not fear me. My voice is the wind, the heart of the storm. I'm here to help.

She raises herself unsteadily onto her elbows. There's a gunshot wound in her chest. Even though she's dying, determination shines in her eyes. Good. I seek fortitude. The potential to serve.

"What are you?" Her voice is weak.

Phantom.

"I'm dead already. Prob'ly imagining you, I'm so far gone."

You're not dead yet. Soon though, without my assistance. Tell me your name.

"Maria."

Surname.

"What's it matter?"

I crouch. Reach forward. Wipe a tear from her cheek with death-cold fingers. It matters.

She flinches at my touch, but answers. "Rodriguez."

I offer you life, Maria Rodriguez. Accept it. Let me save you.

She looks at the dead body next to her. Tears gather and spill. "Why would I wanna live without my Louis?"

Pathetic. Maybe she's not worthy. But I'm starving. My situation will be easier when there are more feeders. Being reliant on one makes me weak, pathetic, just like Maria. I must recruit more.

To honour him. To avenge him.

She looks up, fresh determination in her eyes. "How?"

I will bestow you with the strength of storms. Those that hurt you will be consumed, destroyed, their souls extinguished for eternity. Obliteration: nothing left of them. The most complete death.

"Why'd you need me? Just take them."

My prey must be marked as ghost fodder, to allow me to feed. It's part of my curse.

"Looks like you got bigger problems when it comes to curses. You's rotten. Beyond ugly."

Her words sting, but I admire her spirit. I used to be like her. Beautiful. Gutsy. Indomitable. I used to have character. Personality. A voice. And a name. My humanity is fading but not completely absent…

I was- I am Scarlett Blaine. Never forget. Force myself to remember. I'll not be consumed by this bane. Fighting is futile, at the moment. The curse is too strong, has a mind of its own. I allow it control, behave like I'm beaten, dominated, owned, my soul already lost. It doesn't understand why I seek more feeders. It can't read my mind. Or doesn't. Arrogance maybe? Perhaps it thinks - whatever it is - that I plan to make it more powerful. No. I plan to destroy it. Completely.

Focus. Recruit. Win.

Maybe I should let you die.

Maria smiles. Can she sense my own desperation, this dying creature?

"Can't afford to, can you? You need me."

You're strong of mind, Maria Rodriguez. I do need you. My hunger must be satiated. But I'll survive, regardless of your answer. A lie. I have time. I do not. My only feeder is 500 miles away. Too far. I have risked everything. It is you that's dying. You who needs me more than I need you. Without me, you will be no more. With me, you'll be everything.

The smile slips from her pallid face. "What's the price?" Sweat on her brow. Skin grey. The end is near. I must claim her.

You will be forever tied to this place, to serve me. To seek those who thrive on cruelty. Mark them as ghost fodder, so I may devour their hate. Convert it into fuel for the storm.

Maria's head lolls back. Her expression glazes as the abyss readies to take her. No. I will not fail.

I slap her hard. Eyes focus on me, filled with fear. Make your decision now, Maria Rodriguez. Accept my offer and live. Take vengeance for your Louis.

She nods.

Say it.

"I will feed you."

A grin crawls onto my rancid face. This is going to hurt.

Arms raised, I call. The storm answers. Wind thrashes the gas station. Windows explode inward. Rain pours horizontally, towards my outstretched palms. I swipe my hands downward. The rain hammers Maria's face with unrelenting ferocity. She flails weakly, trying to protect herself.

Inside my cloak, my fingers curl around a pendant. I dangle it above her. It depicts a woman nailed to an inverted cross. She looks like I used to. Striking, human… alive. The cross glows red with heat.

I tear away Maria's shirt and press the pendant into her abdomen. She sits bolt-upright and screams. Animated tattoos of demons, devils and hellfire begin to crawl across her body. They swirl around her gunshot wound. The bullet, pushed from the hole in her chest, clatters onto the floor. Her wound heals. My demonic brand spreads across her body. Finds its permanent position. Seals the curse.

Welcome, to a life that is not life, a death that is not death. Now you are bound to me, until this curse is lifted. Our curse. Her body floats into the air. Rainwater sluices around her. I am the wrath of storms, the rage of tempests. You will serve me; mark prey as ghost fodder. I pull the pendant from her flesh and clasp it round her neck. You are Feeder.

The storm releases its grip. Drops her. She stares at me; angry eyes beneath long, straggly hair.

"What've you done to me?"

You are to me as I am to the storm. A servant.

"I feel… wrong. Not me anymore."

She still has her body, her soul; she knows nothing. You are still more human than not. Be thankful.

"You said I'm tied to you, 'til this curse is lifted. Sounds like you want out."

Yes. More than anything. One day. When I've recruited enough feeders to sate this relentless hunger. When I can think. When I can fight. When I can remember who I really am. One day, I will share my vision with an army of feeders. One day, we'll fight for freedom. Together.

But that day is not today. Now, there is only emptiness. An all-consuming void, yearning to be filled.

What I want is not your concern. You know what to do.

"Feed you." She smiles a smile that isn't a smile. "I know who's on the menu."

We walk outside. I point east. That way. They won't have got far. See you soon, Feeder.

"Too soon, Phantom." Maria Rodriguez gets into a battered jeep. She doesn't turn on the lights. She doesn't need to. Not anymore. The jeep disappears behind the rain's veil.

The roar of precipitation pelting the gas station's metal canopy summons me. Raising my arms, I accept the storm. The weight of the cloak lifts from my shoulders and I become one with wind, rain, lightning and thunder.

Electricity splits the sky with forks of death light. It is time for the Cactus Creek Phantom Feeder's first hunt. Then I will feast. In hope. That one day, I'll be free.