hunting you, we—”
“No,” Terrell said calmly, “there will be no more deals. Please don’t mistake what was only a
curious experiment for anything more.”
“You, you were at our mercy!” Sanguis protested. “I could have killed you that day!”
“Oh, please,” Terrell cackled, grinning down at Frankie and Snod. “Can you believe this blood bag?”
He leaned in close to Father Sanguis to taunt, “I only made the deal with you because I was bored... I
wanted to see what you would do. I thought perhaps the gift of everlasting life might inspire your puny
mortal brains to seek out a new purpose for yourselves. Break the hold of those treacherous religious
trappings...
“Maybe become artists? Wander the earth and help little children? Cure disease? Write poetry?”
Terrell pursed his lips before sighing in disappointment. “But alas, it only reinforced your madness.
Ironic that the blood of a vampire made you into more devoted vampire killers.”
“No... this isn’t true... that’s, that’s not how it happened,” Sanguis wheezed as he backed away toward
the table. “You are a liar, fiend! I will take every drop of blood right from your dead heart!”
“See? This is what I’m talking about!” Terrell laughed, lunging forward faster than Snod could see.
There was a wet crunch, Sanguis screaming as Terrell sank his fangs in and tore out his throat.
There was no art in it and Terrell made no effort not to make a mess of himself. He enjoyed the kill,
laughing like a madman as he dropped Sanguis to the floor with a slick smack.
Snod’s heart seized up in horror, staring at his blank, unseeing eyes.
Sanguis was dead.
The other hunters started firing their useless guns and shouting angrily. Blinded by their fear, all of
them started to swarm toward Terrell to attack and avenge their fallen father.
“Look at me!” Frankie snapped suddenly, nudging at Snod’s cheek. “Don’t look, please, just look at
me! Don’t watch!”
Snod grunted, blinking rapidly as he forced himself to stare into Frankie’s gleaming eyes. He could
hear men screaming, gunfire, and the heavy thump of bodies hitting the floor.
He knew them all; the hunters, young and old, the elderly members of the council.
They were once a part of his family, his very identity, and Terrell was slaughtering them all without
mercy. He was angry, grieving, and completely helpless to stop it. He knew each of these men would
have let him die, but his heart still ached for them as they took their final breaths.
