The vampire moved as a unit, talons extended, fangs sprung free of their houses of flesh. They came to where the delectable smell of fresh blood was released. A quality without compare. It was as if a thousand year old bottle of wine lay breathing. On a cold stone floor, but paces away from consumption.
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Then the Skopamish showed up. Their chests heaving, rotting eyes like dull raisins in their skulls. Their eyes found mine like a witching wand seeking water.
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.. Because of the foulness of her mother's emotional river, a current which ran swift, changing its path without warning..
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Sometimes milestones are not measured by the accomplishments of society, but by those of integrity.
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Somewhere deep inside, his humanity had been shaken by something so unnatural, so foreign in its essence, his very being withdrew from it..
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