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A Short Tale...


wasder

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The lanterns beam reflected off of the wet cobblestones. No sound could be heard apart from the footsteps of a young woman. She pulled her long coat around her and limped along, attempting to run. Her face was a mask of fear, and she constantly looked back, as she was chased by the devil himself.

 

This was not far from the truth. Far behind, the silouette of a tall man could be seen, his brisk stride was faster than the womans gait, and he was closing in. He did not make a sound, not from his feet on the wet stones or his breath. The woman looked back again, and upon seeing how quickly he was gaining she screamed. Her high-pitched voice cut through the air. A solitary crow rose from the rooftops at the sound. The woman gave a desperate last attempt to escape the man-shadow, but she could not go any faster.

 

Meanwhile the man-shadow was nearly upon her, and he silently reached out and put his hand on her shoulder...

 

In a flash of movement, he was kneeling in the street, his head bending over the womans body tthat rested in his lap. His teeth elongated, a smile flickered on his face as he tasted blood.

 

As the morning's first rays broke over the street, a macabre discovery was made by a man on his way to work. A young woman's body, her clothes torn, her skin pale, and two small pinpricks on her neck. No one knew the cause of her death, and she was buried in an unmarked grave, to prey upon the living every night for eternity in a dead-nightmare.

 

And so, no one can escape the dark when it comes calling, no one can hide from the shadows in the shapes of men. We must fight, or become one.

 

<This is the second attempt at writing this story, and I'm still not completely satisfied with the result. I hope you enjoy it, and good luck to my fellow online-authors>

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