Dark things abound, but darker yet are coming. Swift and uncaring, they pull a kiss from your lips and the blood from your arteries.
This darkness will kiss down your neck, place its hands on your waist, whisper of a beauty you yearn for, a beauty you'd kill for.
And, oh, you do. You fall for it, kill for it, die for it. The shadows unleash a beauty that will be your undoing.
Your body will tell you it is right, that it feels like glory in your veins, but, do not trust in your thoughts, for they are scarred by the claws of night.
Your body is a weapon, the night — it's master.
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It almost always started with their screams. They were the kind of screams she couldn't ever forget, the kind tore from throats and left to burn out in a spectacular show.
A knife tore through flesh, and blood ran in rivulets between the gaps of the brick path. Glass shattering, bone splintering.
A teenage girl crying, screaming. There was a boy, hair light like the moon at midnight, and another with blood-red eyes. One, drowned in dark water, the other held a knife to his own throat. A deep red sky pressed down on them.
And when Nevaeh woke, she knew — it was starting again.
