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Description
A dark walker stalks the hidden paths of the night.

With eyes of black and lips of red, it seeks out fresh, warm prey.

The moon is a cold orb in a sky as black as rot, showing the hunter where it must go.

To either side, the day-children stir in their sleep, dreaming of lifeblood making its quiet escape.

The path crunches, like a pit of bones, under the leaden feet of the traveller.

CRUNCH
CRUNCH
CRUNCH

A door creaks open, unwillingly, on rusted hinges.

Up the steps:

One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine.

The lurker watches its victim. There is a tremble in the world; the sleeper opens his eyes to see a flash of red and white and -

SNAP.
CRUNCH.

Soon, it will be eternal.