He's not quite sure how he ended up in the kitchen. Everything is sort of an odd daze at the moment. Something happened again, but he couldn't remember exactly what it had been. But it didn't matter. He was here, and he was hungry, and he was tired again. But food first. Digging through the pantry, he tried to come up with something that wasn't too ( Read more... )

He can't move, why can't he move?  Teeth, fangs are pinning him to the couch, ripping wildly at his throat and the dark, bodiless laughter is in his head as the blood spurts across the room.  It's a faceless face and a nameless name, and he doesn't know who it is, but it hurts, and for some reason, he's not dead but he can't move, and--

--A jerks ( Read more... )