memory seeps from my veins, let me be empty
On one of the upper floors of the Conrad Hotel, a deep red pool of blood is forming on top of a rumpled bed, running off the edges to dribble on the carpet. The duvet has been ripped in several places, as though by very sharp claws, and a set of deep gouges runs through the headboard next to a smeared, bloody handprint. In the center of it all is a body, barely recognizable as a man, most of his flesh eaten away by something big. Some of his internal organs are missing and his legs have been gnawed down to the bone. His eyes are frozen wide open in horror, fixed on something he can no longer see.
Discarded clothing in a trail from the door to the bed, combined with a condom wrapper on the nightstand, make it obvious what the victim had come here for. Too bad he picked the wrong date to try it with. Now he's just another nameless, literally faceless victim in a long line of tasty morsels.
With all hir makeup removed, and with a quick change of clothes, Wraith looks nothing like the femme fatale that some may have seen accompanying the poor bastard into the room last night. Mood boosted by hir latest kill, shi swaggers through the lobby and right out the front doors, lighting up a smoke as shi goes.
Discarded clothing in a trail from the door to the bed, combined with a condom wrapper on the nightstand, make it obvious what the victim had come here for. Too bad he picked the wrong date to try it with. Now he's just another nameless, literally faceless victim in a long line of tasty morsels.
With all hir makeup removed, and with a quick change of clothes, Wraith looks nothing like the femme fatale that some may have seen accompanying the poor bastard into the room last night. Mood boosted by hir latest kill, shi swaggers through the lobby and right out the front doors, lighting up a smoke as shi goes.