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Storm
He arose, leaving the dead man on the ground. He wiped his chin on his sleeve. The blood had filled him and satisfied him like nothing he had ever felt before. It felt too good to be upset. It had been so easy. The mask of death that the old corpse wore was horrible to behold, yet it made Storm smile in satisfaction. He turned from the gruesome scene and began to walk quietly back to the casino, where he hoped to find his friend Thalali and tell him of what had happened.
As he walked, he could not get the face of the man out of his mind. Try as he might, it stuck there. He began to weep, knowing that he was now considered an enemy to the very race to which he was borne. The very same animal that had taken him from his family seemingly ages ago. In truth, it was not very long ago at all. And he had already give up the fight to maintain his identity in the world of the living. Until tonight.
The burdoned vampire continued his slow trek home.
His new home.
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