First message
The street is empty, lanterns flickering lazily in the cool nights breeze. I watch you as you dance between the light posts, a small sack draped over your shoulder. Even in tattered clothing you are a rare and beautiful sight
I follow silently behind as you make your way to your small cottage in the woods, just barely out of sight of the small village. I can’t stop myself from following you. I watch through the small broken window as you make yourself a cup of tea and relax on a tattered chaise. I can see the tired bags under your eyes, the bruises on your arms… and I can smell your sweet blood as the breeze carries the scent straight into my nose. I’ve been watching you like this for weeks now… deciding whether to drain you, enslave you, or… make you fall for me as I have for you.