The sun set, casting long shadows over the valley until finally, dreadfully, the castle lay enshrouded in darkness surrounded by a sea of eerie mist rising from the ground.
Dracula awoke from his daytime slumber, pushing the coffin lid open with icy, pale, blue-veined fingers. It was time to eat. The rats in the cellar looked up as the creature before them transfigured into a bat and flew off through the chimney and out into the early evening sky. The moon shone full, sending shadows across the tendril forests that surrounded the small of town of Prosk where his breakfast awaited.
She lay asleep, behind misty curtains: beautiful, fragrant, pearl skin, blood red lips, beckoning veins. He could scarcely contain his hungry desire as he fumbled with the window latch and entered the room.
He smirked at the pointless garlic hanging from the bedstead, the cross on her milky neck, and leaned forward baring his teeth to drink, only a little further…
His left canine snapped from rot, a stark reminder that flossing was essential after brushing.
Sean took advantage of our free program for authors. Do you have a story you’d like to share? Share Your Story