So I was wandering the streets of London at the end of last week… It was late and I’d been drinking, as I am wont. When suddenly from the dark behind, came a shape. A shape I’d met before, in another London, in another time… It was Mordkar, an evil being who’d seduced me more than once, in many lives…
I was stunned… I had my wits but barely and I was overcome. I was bitten. The precious pain, the feeling of life flowing fast; leaving me, entering me… the movement, the colours… I was dying, I was living, I was changing… I was… I was more alive than I’d ever been.
I stood up and looked around me. I recognised the place… Eros on his plinth… Piccadilly… a pain in the neck caused me to swat with my hand… it came away bloody… messy.
I staggered into the shadows and slumped… and waited.
In time, I heard voices. It was not a surprise. This place is always busy, even in the dead of night… I waited, I leaped… I was satiated. I was whole…
The bodies hidden, I ran… I ran until I could run no more… and I fell into the dark… I knew not where.
When I woke, I looked at the time… 8pm… it would be dark soon… I looked around hungrily… perhaps a careless victim would pass by.