He should have known Samson would sniff him out, no matter how he had tried to hide himself in the depths of the backyard. The bushes rustled, Samson issued a curious bark, and Quill lifted his red face to reply with a bark of his own that the dog would understand. Even still, he recognized that Samson would get Albert ; no friendship would ever trump a canine's loyalty.
Quill lowered back down over the body, eyes unusually dull in the dark. The vampire's features were drawn, and he looked more like a corpse than a creature. Blood went greedily down his throat, followed by something more meaty. His prey's shoulder was open and spread across the earth. She had stopped twitching, finally -- given up the last shreds of life she once tried to scream with while he held her mouth closed.
He wanted to pick her up and tell her that he was sorry again. The marks from the tears on him shown every time he did before. Quill smelled Albert growing close. Suddenly, he shied away from her, strips of muscle hanging from his teeth. His stomach growled, and Quill did his best to ignore how terribly it hurt.
— from @mycursedcaptain, unprompted.
Standing behind the shut screen door, the Grabber's head cocked to the side as he took in the trembling of the bushes in his yard. Samson was restless at his side, pacing the same few feet back and forth; coupled with the way he had barked and whimpered to get his attention at all, what had transpired was no mystery at all.
With a smooth shift, the top half of his mask was discarded and set aside on the kitchen counter. A firm command kept Samson indoors, and Mr. Shaw stepped outside.
The scent of blood was sharp, and sharper still the closer he got to those shifting leaves. He walked through the bushes, looked over the mess on his grass, and exhaled slowly through his nose.
Under the moonlight, the blood looked almost black.
"Why did you stop?" came Shaw's voice, low and growling. He crouched by Quill's shameful form, and without hesitation grabbed the hair at the back of his head and tugged to force him to meet his eyes.
(They were cold and angry. Daddy never liked waste.)
"What'd I tell you about finishing your food, boy?"
