[ SEEN ] for receiver to find sender after they’ve killed someone.
THEY SAY MONSTERS ARENT BORN, THEYRE CREATED. perhaps they could follow bread crumbs of trauma, pointing them in the right direction so they could sleep easy at night. perhaps it was a false sense of security, believing in the innate good in others. the truth was harder to swallow. it was a scary bitter pill, one that promised disillusion before salvation. she hated the taste.
raw, unhindered power flowed through her like an electrical current. it ignited her blood, turned her heart into a war drum until all she could hear was the echo of its battle hymn in her ears. death hummed under her skin, alive and vibrating under the shine of the full moon. summers in shreveport beckoned the bugs and vermin into the muggy hot air yet the night was almost quiet. except for the crunching and slurping, flesh and fabric ripping. the screams had died out in minutes.
people gave up much faster than animals.
but she didnt hear him— she felt him. centuries of power trapped inside a case of muscle and bone. she didnt know if vampires had souls but they had stars in their chests, burning brighter with every decade that they survived being put back into the ground. her tongue ran along her bottom lip, deaths hunger roaring back to life in his presence. touch him. touch him. taste him. eat him. stop it. the last thing she needed was northman fucking with her already terrible night. god damn it.
" for the record, they started it, " the marshal mumbled. 'they' being the two bodies of very old vampires being ripped apart like southern barbecue on the fourth of july. the small hoard of undead on their hands and knees at her feet, unaware of anything other than the meat in their mouths. a sacrifice in the name of survival. one that tore at the humanity she held so close to her chest. there was right and wrong. there was cruelty and necessity. she was not like them. she was not like him.
" if you give me some vampire politics bullshit, @avblod, ill shoot you, " she growled. it was half hearted, lacking teeth in the middle of the morality crisis happening in her head. hell, she didnt even have a gun. she knew she was banged up, bleeding into the fabric of her clothes, dripping into the soil like a broken faucet — and she felt nothing. pain numbed by power. yipee. " i used the only weapon i had. "
to believe that monsters were born was to admit that she was one.

















