CONTENT WARNINGS: horror-ish pictures, violence, discussion of murder (again!), homophobia, transphobia, and issues of parental abuse / not accepting their children.
- Also alcohol consumption, but all in good fun, and a little bad language and one vague sexual reference.
[Annorin's diary entry]
For years, the memories and the nightmares have plagued me, and none of my own concoctions have done anything to ease the terror.
The Strong bloodline have been an incredible help to this gruelling hard work. They despised him as much as I did, and yet they shared my struggle- they could never think of a way to take him down. He and another vampire were the only two of the Nebelstadt group the Strongs couldn't kill. As to whether this second vampire is still alive, I am unsure. I will have to stay vigilant.
Almost five years of research have culminated in what I believe to be a potential working vampire cure. Any solid research would be partially grounded in some kind of experiment, but I had no vampire to experiment on. No, the end result himself would also have to be the trial.
I am unsure as to what other effects the cure may have. Whether he'll die immediately due to a one-hundred-and-sixty-year-old human being impossible, whether he'll return to a healthy state, or whether the inevitable degradation of his organs will mean a quick and likely painful death. Only time will tell. How exactly I will administer this cure is not something I have thought of in much detail.
Capturing him will be nearly impossible. I am unsure what kind of effect it would have on a living human, but none of the ingredients are unsuitable for human consumption. I have a few ideas up my sleeve, but nothing particularly fleshed-out as of the moment.
With a little luck, my cure will end the terror of Henford, though it will likely be years before I can stop seeing that face in my dreams. The grey, wrinkled skin, the black crow-like wings, the monstrous claws, and those piercing pupils- I long for the day I do not dream about them.
* * *
"Daydreaming again, Samuel?"
"Eduardo? What are you doing here?"
"Is it so bad to check up on an old friend? It's been a while, hasn't it, Samuel? I must say, it's awfully strange to see the gryphon with his wings clipped. Maybe even a little upsetting. I heard a rumour that you've been working on a cure for this supposed vampire-"
"He's very real, Eduardo. And the cure is practically finished."
"Your talents have always amazed me, Samuel."
"Eduardo- a question for you. There is something I have never understood about you. All your years of going after the true witches, yet you leave the bloodlines be. I thought you hated magic in all its forms?"
"The same reason everyone else leaves the bloodlines alone- they at least try to integrate into regular society, not to mention most bloodlines make up little of what's left of the elites. You don't speak out against witchfinders, you don't try to save witches, you don't use your magic publicly. Yes, your magic may not be as powerful, but that's why bloodlines are safer to be around, is it not? You know how to behave. The witches, on the other hand, they think our rules do not apply to them. They think we should all just accept a chaotic world where spells fly freely, and those without magic suffer as a result."
"My mansion in Tartosan was burned down by witches when my father was wrongly accused of killing one of their coven, Samuel. My mother and father burned to death, as did my three children. The youngest was three years old. I will stop at nothing to make sure every last true witch is wiped from the map."
"Ah...I see. I apologise, Eduardo. I did not mean to bring such horrific thoughts back to the surface."
"No apology needed, Samuel. You would never do such a thing. No bloodline would."
"So, I suppose you have some kind of plan in place to administer this cure to the vampire?"
"Why are you so keen on this, Eduardo?"
"Your problem is my problem. He's decimated half my workforce and I've had to resort to scaring young men into working for me."
"And you take issue with that?"
"No, I take issue with the fact that the willing ones work harder and are less prone to dying."
"Nothing concrete, Eduardo. The problem is, no witchfinder can get near him. He has the battle prowess of a veteran, and that's without even considering the vampiric powers...I'll have to do something to bring him to me. He's hard to describe. Predictable yet unpredictable. Perhaps I can pretend Eli is in some kind of danger- or just have him kidnapped...that'll lure him out. Oskar will no doubt try to save him, and then will no doubt drink the blood of whoever's holding him hostage. I get the kidnapper to ingest the cure, and then it's passed through the bloodstream to the vampire. "
"One moment- your own son?"
"That flamboyant traitor is no longer my son. It's bad enough he cares more for that murderous cross-dresser than he does for his own paralysed father. It's even worse to know that he's been... consorting with men as well as women. Watcher, what did I do to deserve a molly for a son? Now my only hope of ever continuing this bloodline is with Owen, and even then, he's almost in his mid-thirties. Who knows, perhaps the Annorin bloodline ends here-"
"Oh, stop grovelling, will you? Besides, there's an easier way to solve your problem, but it'll require our working together."
"You think you have a better idea?"
"I know I have a better idea. You say for the human to ingest the cure, but how does this cure affect humans?"
"It shouldn't have much in the way of negative affects. Most of what makes it up isn't harmful to a normal human. It'd be a nasty bitter taste at worst."
"There we are. So, we get one of my witchfinders to ingest it. Then, I ask this witchfinder to try and rile him up in a way that will encourage him to drink his blood instead of run him through with his sword. Then it's simply a waiting game."
"And if this goes wrong? It took me four years to do this, Eduardo."
"I always get what I want, Samuel. It won't go wrong."
"...Okay. We have a deal. I don't have a better way to do this."
"Though I must ask, Samuel, wouldn't it be easier to just...lure him out into the Sun somehow? It'd certainly be quicker."
"Too quick, Eduardo. What Oskar did to me has made the last five or six years a living hell. He may not have taken my life, but he stole my livelihood from me. I plan to do the same to him. I'm going to make him as powerless as he made me."
"You know, Samuel...Just because the gryphon has his wings clipped, he can still make his way on his four feet just fine."
"What do you think I've been doing, Eduardo? I've been trying to live my life despite everything."
"Precisely, but I'm not saying that to make you feel better about it all. I'm saying that because clipping a vampire's wings might not solve your problem. If he's any good as a vampire, then he'll come back for you as a human."
"Indeed, but humans are far easier to kill."
"Well, suit yourself. I'll send you one of my best very shortly, and then with any luck, this will all work out for both of us. You've seen how Finchwick has become a haven for witches, no thanks to him...That will all change shortly. Henford will go back to those who deserve it."
* * *
Eli
The winter is rough right now, but Griselda's always up for a wander about no matter the weather. First thing in the morning I take care of her, and then it's time to finish up a commission that's taken Oskar and I forever.
After weeks of constant hard work, we were finally done with the cabinet. Whoever commissioned this paid through the nose for it, that's for sure...
"I think I see a little chip in-"
"Eli, now isn't the time for perfectionism. Go. Make the dent."
"But I don't want to ruin-"
"Just make the dent, Eli. You want this to be authentic, don't you?"
Oskar
insists on me making an intentional nick, chip or dent in the wood
somewhere where it wouldn't be seen, a trademark caused by himself as a
baby trying to 'help' his parents by hammering or cutting into a part of their masterpieces. In his parents' eyes, it was a cute way of letting their little boy be a part of the family legacy. Now it was my job to carry on that legacy...as a twenty-year-old man.
"What if I ruin it?"
"You won't! Just do it."
I take a saw and leave a little mark in the back, and an enormous smile beams across his face.
"So, since we finished a commission-"
"-We get cracking on the next one right away."
There must be more to life than work all day long. There must be!
"It can wait one evening, can't it?"
"You're asking for time off again? This is the third time this week!"
"Eli, if this is about a girl-"
"No, not at all. I'd just like the evening off to grab a drink, that's all."
Oskar sighs to himself. He cares about me too much to say no.
"Fine. But I want you up bright and early at sunrise tomorrow regardless of how much you've had to drink!"
* * *
Business was going well, surprisingly well, in fact. I never expected I'd be earning this much money after finishing my apprenticeship. I hand most of that credit to Oskar for his expertise as well as his name, but he disagrees, saying it's all my hard work.
Trouble is, as much as I love my job, I feel like everyone works too hard. Thankfully Oskar tends to be pretty lenient about time off, at least compared to other people's employers- but I still feel like there's more to life than just chipping away at wood. I've never said this to Oskar, though. If vampires could cry, I think he'd bawl a river if I said that.
For about a month now, I've been meeting up with a man who I met here and became good friends with- Daniel Reyes. He's a fun, energetic person who works for his father, a talented fisherman.
It's safe to say I have a bit of a...reputation. Not necessarily a bad one, but many would call me 'playfully flirtatious.' I received that sort of attention often, and of course I'd reciprocate, the both of us just doing it for fun, nothing serious. Sadly, most of the people I was like that with would often be passing by, and I'd never see them again- but it's always nice to think of the people who move in and out of your life. It's warming to think about what everyone leaves behind- whether that was a quirk, or a compliment, or something else.
For me, the temporary nature of things wasn't a bad thing. Though he's got endless time, Oskar always tells me to live in the moment, so that's exactly what I do.
"Still nothing on the board. I mean, there must be something going around somewhere in Henford..."
The Reyes fishing business had dried up over the winter. It's a particularly harsh winter, and the fish were eating less and therefore were biting less. The fish they did have, they had to eat so they didn't starve.
I notice Violeta behind me. I ask her what she's doing here, and she quips that, with a best friend like my father, she needs a stiff drink now and again. I know for a fact that's not red wine in her glass.
"You know, you could just take up my offer and let me help you out financially."
"I'm not taking money off a friend, Eli."
"You need it more than I do, Dan-"
"Nope. If I earned money without working for it, Father would lose his mind. Besides, as far as he's concerned, I'm looking for work right now."
I'd never met Dan's father before, but he sounded even more stubborn than he is.
The only trouble with my aforementioned 'playful flirtatiousness' is that I'd grown so used to those feelings being fleeting that the fact it'd lingered for a while now was...unusual.
"Is drinking instead of looking for work really a good idea, Dan?"
"Hey, it's not about the drinking," Dan says, laughing. "It's about the company, right? It's a nice break from the outside world in here. Besides, something'll come up eventually."
The old man throwing up in the corner trying to start a barfight with the cleaner would suggest that the outside world was as inside this bar as it was outside it.
"Alright, alright, fine. At least let me buy you a drink, then."
That...wasn't supposed to come out sounding the way it did. To my surprise, though, Daniel seems quite receptive to it. Playfully-flirtatious Eli accidentally slipped out...Thank goodness it was with someone both charming and a treat for the eyes.
The only trouble was, playfully-flirtatious Eli was only supposed to come out when it was someone I wouldn't see again. A passing moment of joy, no awkwardness, and a fun little memory. Not with people I see every week!
"I haven't really thought about what I want to do, but I guess what I want to do isn't really an option right now. The only work that's advertising a need for more bodies is, well...witchfinding."
"Promise me you won't ever get that desperate, Dan...I don't care how stubborn you are, if you need anything before you get to that point-"
"No, don't worry. My father fell into that trap years ago. He's not done it for years and hates them now, but I promised him I'd never have anything to do with that."
Unlike Oskar and his friend-mother-whatever, Violeta, I was almost completely attuned to the world around me. Every situation was a fireworks-display of emotions, and whilst it made every little moment special, it also meant a lot of people thought I was far too much. When people said I was a 'little ray of sunshine', it wasn't always something said in a pleasant manner. Then again, I guess I just got lucky. Still, if I could spread a little infectious happiness, might as well.
Only the only thing that seemed to be infectious right now, was the man sat right next to me. Ever since I'd bought him that drink, his voice and his gaze had both softened into something alluring. It wasn't anything too strong, so I doubt it's the drink talking...
Once the bartender had finally thrown out the old man, Dan and I retreat to the little lounge corner next to the fireplace, away from the freezing cold. It was getting quiet now; most people were leaving. What time was it?! How long had we been here chatting away?
There was a woman passed out drunk on the other sofa, but she wasn't doing any harm, so we left her be.
"There's got to be more to life than just work, work, work..."
"I've been thinking the same thing...I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm in a much better place now. Oskar treats me like a human being unlike Samuel did, I'm not doing too badly, I'm on better terms with my brother, and people don't spit on me anymore like they used to when I was a teenager."
"Huh? Why did they do that?"
"Because I was Annorin's son. I don't know why they couldn't take their anger out on him instead of me, but..."
Daniel lets out a sympathetic chuckle, if there's such thing as a sympathetic chuckle. "Well, you know, for the son of Henford's most wanted, you're alright. You're nothing like him."
"I know I was in a far better place than most my age, but I could have done without all the verbal abuse and the heckling back then. I got enough of it from Samuel."
"You know how it is...but, think about it- you're not like that anymore. You're earning way more than most people your age, and off your own back, so they can't say that you're living off your father's money. And you're a lot more confident now. And I bet they don't have men and women chasing after them."
"I wish you wouldn't put it that way," I reply, laughing. "Nobody's chasing after me. It's all just a bit of unserious fun."
At least, with those people, it was. Now, with Daniel, I'm starting to wonder...
"Though while we're on that topic...What you said earlier- well, not what you said- more the tone you said it in. What was that all about?"
He says this with a distinct chirpiness. The fish aren't biting, so now he's fishing for compliments instead. I see.
"Of course I don't. I'm used to you banging on about woodworking and horses. Wouldn't have it any other way."
"You're fun to be around. You have a good energy about you, and I always look forward to seeing you after work when I can get a few hours off."
The way Daniel looks at me leaves a warmth in me much stronger than the one from the fireplace next to us.
"What's Annorin going to think when he finds out his own son is going after the boys as well as the girls, I wonder..."
I dread to think. That sort of thing has no place amongst the lives of nobility, nor people who think they're nobility, like my father. Bloodline this and tradition that. Perhaps considering Owen is heir to everything and not me, he might not be so enraged about it.
"Between you and me, Samuel can go fuck himself." The two of us erupt into playful laughter. Dan stretches a little, placing his elbows on the back of the sofa. It's been a long and exhausting day finishing off that dresser, so I lie down, leaning against him. He doesn't stop me.
"I think I know why we can't just quit our day jobs...and not just because Annorin's hoarding all of our Simoleons and we'd starve to death if we did."
"Oh?" I find myself lapsing in and out of sleep.
"As tiring as my work is, I feel weird not doing it. It used to be after a long day fishing, we'd come home and we'd help Father make an amazing fish dinner. It just felt so much more worth it after a long day of being busy. I don't know. For me, it just...drives me mad thinking I'm not doing anything."
I guess he has a point. What got me through the work day was going to the bar and telling Dan all about my day, and whatever wild things would inevitably come out of Oskar's mouth on the day. It was something to look forward to, a reward, I guess.
"Because you're so used to being worked to the bone, that's why you feel that way. You're so used to being exhausted that you feel like being here is selfish."
"I guess it is when I told Father I was job-hunting-"
"Dan, it's late. Just rest. You deserve it- I promise."
Daniel
Father would give me the longest speech of my life if he knew about this. Not only just me being friendly with the Annorin boy, but...whatever this is. He'd go wild. Eli being a man would be fine. Eli being an Annorin, however? Unacceptable, no doubt.
Father spent many years trying to convince the townspeople that his father was screwing them all over, and thanks to tireless work, he succeeded. Maybe I should just be honest with him about wanting to try and take a break from job-searching, but he'd just give me the same speech he always give me on working hard. It seems everyone's parents are like this. I hate being in this limbo of not having anything to do, but maybe Eli's right. Maybe I'm just not used to rest, so it feels like I don't deserve it.
I should be home by now, but I'll just tell Father that I did a late-night odd job for someone. I didn't move because Eli had fallen asleep right next to me. I admit, it's not surprising he's as happy as he is, but I can't fault him for that. All of his money was from his own pocket, not Annorin's, and I believe him when he tells me he was awful to him. Eli may be charismatic, confident and charming, but you can tell when people have had to completely turn themselves around to get to that point. He might've been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth for half his life, but I know that he's earned his happiness at least.
* * *
When I come to, there's a dryness in my throat and the sound of soft breathing in my ear, sometimes rising to a snore. The fire's still going. There's something warm underneath me, then I realise my head is on Eli's chest; I can feel his heartbeat against my back. Did I really fall asleep like this?
The owner is cleaning the tables, and gives me a warm smile. I jolt upright for a moment, but she doesn't react with any fear or disgust. She didn't bother to move us on?
"Oh...Sorry. I'm so-"
"Don't be," she says, with a chuckle. "You two are my regulars, so I left you both be. You'd best be getting back home, though- your father's probably worried sick." She hums a little tune whilst cleaning off the tables. "Making a move on the Annorin boy...Brave of you, Daniel. Very brave indeed," she says, in a playful tone. "Make sure his father doesn't find out, whatever you do...I'll do my best to make sure of the same."
I try to move as carefully as possible to avoid waking Eli. He stirs for a moment and grunts at me. He lifts the arm that's dangled over the sofa and pulls at my trouser leg a little, but he's still sound asleep.
It's still dark out this morning. No-one else is around, and it's freezing cold. The snow hasn't stopped for about a week, and it's only getting worse. The River Glimmer is entirely frozen over.
"Early, isn't it?"
The voice emerges from the foggy shadows as...Lord Volpe. The Tartosan noble who was responsible for what was left of the witchfinders in Henford. Of all the people...He tries making small talk with me, but I ignore him as much as I can.
"I've been keeping an eye on you. I always see you looking at the noticeboard. Out of work, are we? I could always offer you something, if you're desperate-"
"I'll starve before I ever become a witchfinder."
His laugh is horrid and grating.
"Witchfinding pays very well, you know. A lot better than many other jobs. On top of that, you'll be doing Henford a service-"
"I don't give a toss how much it pays. I'm not doing it, so get the fuck out of my-"
His cold palm grasps me by the throat, and he lifts me off the floor. I can barely breathe, and my grip isn't enough to loosen his own.
"Then I'll rephrase. I know your father, Daniel. Gideon Reyes was a thorn in my side for many years, and a terrible witchfinder at that. I know you can be a better witchfinder than your father. If the Simoleons won't sway you, how about the threat of your family's life?"
A chill strikes my spine and leaves a pain in my chest.
"I know where your father lives, and your brother. If you don't join me tonight, I'll come back for all three of you. Is that a risk you want to take?"
It isn't a risk I can take. Lord Volpe knows almost everything about Father, and even though Father can defend himself, Josiah is quiet. He wouldn't fight back. Not to mention there's no knowing how many witchfinders he'll send after us. I could just mouth off at him again and assume it was just an intimidation tactic, but it never was with Volpe. There was no such thing as an empty threat with him...
He throws me down into the snow, and I pull myself up onto my knees, choking.
"Did you hear all that, Daniel?"
I struggle to catch my breath. "Loud and clear, Mr. Volpe..."
"The reason you're out of work now is because witches have upset the balance of nature. That's why you can't catch any fish, because of unecessary and frankly egotistical disruption to forces that were always meant to be out of our control."
"Mr.Volpe-"
"Lord Volpe. I want you at my mansion tomorrow afternoon, no matter what- or I'll be sending my finest your way. Your family's lives and your own, or that of the men and women who are ruining this country and all others...your choice."
He walks off back into the shadowy fog.
I feel my tears freeze against my cheeks. With Josiah and Father's life on the line, I can't take any risks...There has to be a way out somewhere, but for now, I have to go along with Volpe's plan...and somehow think of a cover story for it all.
* * *
Reynold
For some time, the Peteran monastery will be closed for sermons and the like. The depths of winter is the time of the Peteran Fortnight of Mourning, in which we spend our time reflecting on those who have left us. At the end of the fortnight, we celebrate the lives of the departed joyfully, but the fortnight of mourning was to allow us a moment to be solemn about our losses. Our loved ones are part of the Watcher, so we must do our bit to remember them fondly whilst the Watcher's eye is looming more than usual.
Róisín has helped me lay out hundreds of candles on long tables. People can come in and light as many candles as they'd like, usually one for each person. I remain here for the entire fortnight and do little but eat, pray, and offer a listening ear to anyone who needed it.
"There we are! I think that's all of them, Father."
"Thank you, Róisín. If you're good by the time I get back, maybe I'll get you a little treat." Her face lights up. I'm trying not to spoil her; spoiling isn't very Peteran, but it's hard not to. She's so hard-working for her age.
Áine is more clingy than usual. Something's on her mind, I can tell.
"Okay, okay! That's enough kissing!"
Áine and I chuckle. "Why don't you head downstairs and read some books for a moment, darling?"
She gladly heads downstairs as fast as possible to get away from her parents being mushy. I have to try and prise Áine's lips off of mine to get a word in.
"Alright, Áine...What's on your mind?"
She looks at me longingly for a second, her gaze flicking between me and the window straight after.
"Can't I be loving with my partner before I don't see him for two weeks? Do you know how long that is without your touch, Reynold?"
"I know there's more to it than that, Áine."
She lets out a deep sigh and loosens her shoulders.
"Reynold...We should have more children."
That...wasn't what I was expecting. At all.
"Áine, we just about have time for Róisín!"
"I know, but I'm...I'm terrified that something is going to happen to her and that we're going to lose her. I don't think we can just have the one child..."
"She's eight years old, Áine. She's already made it through the years that most don't make it. Everyone's hard work has made it easier for witches in Henford. We'll take care of her. Between our potential having to leave again and my being at the monastery...I don't think we have time for any more children."
She gives me a solemn and tearful look. I don't like seeing her upset...
"You need to have more faith in yourself- in us. We'll take good care of her, you know that."
I couldn't stop thinking about the premonition I had at the river the other night...the burning feeling of vengeance clawing at me from within, and what honestly felt like I was about to die. I hadn't stopped thinking about it. What it could have meant, who it could have been referring to. I try to hide it from Áine- I haven't even told her about it yet, not whilst she's worried about our daughter. Kat said she had a bad reading from her divination cards- maybe I can speak to her about it, see what she thinks. It could have been anything. Annorin coming back for her, possibly, or maybe a threat to myself...but vengeance? I've never felt particularly vengeful, nothing like what I felt at the river during the moon-sight. I wouldn't call Kat vengeful, but maybe her pacifism was an attempt to fight inner, darker desires.
"You and Róisín can visit whenever you like, okay? But you need to try and-"
"Have faith."
"Exactly," I reply, running my hand through her hair. "Everything will be okay. The moment we start thinking it won't, then..."
"I can't believe I'd think like this about my own-"
"You haven't done anything, Áine. You're a concerned mother who's worried about her child who she loves dearly. There's nothing wrong with that."
With that, Áine presses her lips against mine again. It'll be difficult to be away from her, even just for two weeks. I find myself missing her touch, amongst...other things.
Róisín shouts from downstairs if we're done yet. Before she leaves, Áine lights a candle for her mother, and I light one for Mother Joyce.
Oskar
At first, my midnight strolls were just ways to unwind. Almost every other night, I'd have witchfinders on my tail. None of them ever escaped with their lives, nor did they ever leave a scratch on me.
It took me back to my days as a soldier. Running my sword through a witchfinder, sinking my teeth into him...all of my numbness would be removed in that moment, entirely replaced with the rush of spilled blood of those who deserved worse than death. Back then, most considered me unstoppable.
Crunching footsteps in the thickening snow follow me. Another young privileged man in over his head. He had no reason to be angry. He wanted a reason to be angry. The Tartosan fox gave him a reason to be angry, and now here he was, seething, because the rich man told him to be, fighting an artifical battle against an artificial enemy.
He won't stop running his mouth. They're normally not this talkative.
These past few years, I've felt my soldier persona slowly seeping back in. Since Annorin, I felt my former ruthlessness returning to me, and I did nothing to stop it. I'd been performing the masquerade for countless years; switching between the warm father figure and the pragmatic soldier was as easy as changing clothes.
He keeps taunting me, telling me to drop the sword and drink his blood if I can dare get anywhere near him. I can sense the increasing tempo of his pulse from over here. He's feigning an air of bravado. He tries to blindside me, but he's no match for vampiric agility nor strength.
Sometimes, I ran my sword right through them. Others, I drained them until they were a wrinkled sack of bones and organs and little more. This time, I entertain him a little. If he wants me to drink his blood, then so be it.
The constant clashing of metal is exhausting his mortal body. Once I knock him down, that's when I strike. A cloud of black smoke, a blink of an eye. All of my senses sharpen, and the black feathered wings sprout from my back. His eyes look like they're about to burst out of his skull. His screams echo throughout dusky rural Henford. No-one hears them. The witches know the scream of a witchfinder when they hear one. The women know that the vampires are defending Henford from the people that would kill them, magic or not, if they fit a description. Some men in Henford know better than to try and fight us. Others, like this man, learn the hard way.
Mortals never know when they've lost the battle. They think they're unbeatable, that there's no being out there that could ever take them down. Everyone knows full well there are powers beyond their own...why else would there be a witchfinder epidemic? Despite the fear of powers beyond their own, they still considered themselves superior to all others.
He trips into the snow and lands in a cloud of powdery flakes. He rakes his fingers through the deep snow trying to escape, but his attempts are futile. He's begging me not to hurt him, to spare him, have mercy. Witchfinders know nothing of mercy. These days, neither do I- not when it comes to witchfinders.
His blood is salty, bitter, cheap, like a meal that'd been left to stale on the counter. Still, I'm not going to waste a feeding. The rush of his blood into my mouth is irresistible, and his heartbeat is rapid against my chest. I don't realise how fast I'm feeding until I notice that his hearbeat begins to slow to a crawl, and a deathly gurgle erupts from his throat. I keep going. I don't stop until I've drained him dry. The last dregs of blood are always the worst.
The bloated sensation in my stomach quickly shifts from nauseating to euphoric, from a sensation reminding me of humanoid limitations to a sensation reminding me of my true self- immortal, monstrous, grotesque, almost deific.
I toss the pale and wrinkled remains into the river. They crash through the layer of ice, and the body sinks to the icy depths where it belongs, where no-one will come looking for him.
I notice a burgeoning glow across the horizon, and head back home before the morning winter sun rises. Eli and I have another commission to start on first thing when I get back.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The snowdrift overlay is a .png but I lost the link, and the feather overlay in the last screenshot is this one.