vampires
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A trail of bright red drips extends down the hallway; remnants from last night’s little accident. The woman I live with let herself go a little too long between feedings in an attempt to lose weight and got so hungry she ended up draining one of her human friends. She said he was trying to…
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Find us on Venice Beach, on Santa Monica, on Hermosa. We’ve smiled at you on Manhattan Beach, our pearly whites gleaming. We’ve let you kiss our red lipstick lips, and then we drew our fangs and plunged.
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Red, dripping, bony hands thrust out of the vampress’s chest cavity, shoving bone and meat aside, gouts of red fluid squirting between the gaps. Repulsed, Einar fell back, tearing his gaze from the spindly arms now groping out of the vampress’s body, to her ecstatic face (not an improvement), down to Clover beside him.
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An Italian vampire hired for retribution by a woman with an ax to grind? Perhaps ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ is something even vampires know. . .
