perfectgraveyard
It rained blood.
Of all the things that transpired that day, it is the image drilled vividly into my mind. I see it when my eyes are open and especially when they are closed.
I can't even remember the growls nor the gnash of canines into flesh. Vaguely, the sound of bones breaking and the sound of cries before final gasps for breath.
All I remember was the splutter of red from all directions. Thick, warm, dripping red smothering my whole body.
I thought I'd never experience anything bloodier than that.
Not until I stared into the ocean blue of my mate's eyes and listened to him utter the words I thought I'd never hear. Especially not from him.
"I, Leon Archer, reject you, Nostalgia Avon, as my mate."
At that moment, I felt like I was in hell. Bloodier than any hell the British could ever think of.