Being immortal was truly a special kind of torture.
Fate had been particularly cruel to her, she figured, considering that her immortality was brought upon her by her mother.
As she drained her second victim of the night of her blood, she thought back of the time she had been recently turned. Or awakened, as her mother preferred to call it.
Back then, she had barely any control over her hunger, her bloodlust.
She grimaced as she let the body of her victim fall. It wasn't like her control had improved that much over time.
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Tiny Stories Part 2
Short StoryMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
