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The stars glittered in the blue velvet night. The moon glowed large and round, spilling its light over the town, watching silently as it lit the way in the darkness for those who chose to walk night’s path. There was a house that it watched closely. The house was a small 3 bedroom home with a white picket fence and pink roses in the front gardens. A perfectly normal home where a mother, father and daughter lived together but then again appearances can be deceiving…

The figure lay sprawled face down on the floor. Nail marks dragged across the carpet where the person had tried in vain to escape their fate. The body of the figure’s wife lay alone and cold in the next room, what little blood that was left in the body had seeped out onto the fluffy white carpet staining it crimson red.

In the lounge room sat a third figure, curled up in the shadows of the corner away from all light as if its slight touch would burn. Tears mingled with the blood on her cheeks and dripped from her jaws. Fear and terror were bright in her eyes and had taken over from the hunger, lust and exaltation that had consumed her earlier. She was alone in the house now, the bodies that had been her parents laid on the floor, their presence had left this world forever. Winter didn’t know how it had happened. She’d been feeling odd for the past few days, getting migraines during the day that were so bad that she was forced to close the curtains and stay in her room, only to have the migraines disappear when darkness fell across the land.

Struggling to remember what happened to her and her family, Winter tried to calm down and replay in her mind all that happened. Breathing slowly and looking away from the blood that splattered the floor and the body of her father she began to remember…

… Winter was walked down the stairs just after sunset because her migraine had vanished only moments before. She walked into the kitchen where her mother was smiling as she prepared dinner, steak and potatoes. The smell of blood was in the air wafting its way over to her, and the need to go to it and lick the spilling blood was almost irresistible. Shuddering with the grossness of the thought, Winter had forced to move herself away from the steak and the blood that was pooling around the chopping board. Winter had though that it was nothing more than the after effects of migraine. But before she could leave the room her mother had cried out in pain, turning Winter saw her mother’s knife had slipped and the blood welled up from her hand. The need grew so strong that Winter let herself go and released herself to tide of hunger that washed over and took her over. Even though Winter struggled to remember nothing came to her mind until she was standing over the battered and broken body of her father in the lounge room. The call of the blood no longer abused her senses, nor made her teeth ache but lay sated, ready to rise by the smallest of provocations like a sleepy dog lies guarding its master.

Winter shrank against the wall trying to hide in the shadows and disappear from what she had done. An hour or more passed and yet Winter never moved but she had calmed and was no longer hysterical. She struggled to her feet and hobbled up the stairs the feeling slowly returning to her numb legs. Rooms passed to her left and right until she came to the bathroom. The blood of her family had caked on her clothes stiffening it making it hard to take off. The dried blood flaked away in the pounding heat of the shower as her tired muscles relaxed; the bloody clothes lay scattered on the blue tiled floor.

Winter stepped out of the shower her skin pale despite the heat of the water and steam, her red hair lay in lank red curls against her back. An eerie calm had settled over her. Her hysterics had ceased and quietness settled over her, the events of the night had soaked into her mind to stay there forever.

She confidently walked naked through the house to her bedroom. She walked to her closet and began choosing clothes to wear. Thinking calmly to herself she realised that she needed to blend into the night so she chose tight black leather pants and a black sleeveless top with a hood. Hurrying slightly she put on her black Nikes, the police would be on their way soon thanks to her nosey neighbours. As she walked down the stairs she could smell the blood of her family smeared around the house. It would smell even worse in the morning when the sun came up and warmed the house through. The police would definitely be on their way then. Walking out the door and down the pathway she realised that she had Changed. She was no longer the sweet innocent girl but rather a creature that lived only in the darkest of nights, in the nightmares of children. Winter smiled at the thought. The migraines during the day had only been the beginnings of the Change and nothing more. ‘Mother won’t be very happy,’ She thought smugly, ‘all those trips to the doctor were for nothing.’ Winter smiled at the thought, her newly found fangs glistening in the darkness as she walked down the lonely road that led her away from home. Startled she whirled around as a twig snapped and a loud scrapping of shoes sounded behind her. It was a man stumbling home in light of the moon. He had clearly had one too many beers as he celebrated in the local pub with his mates. She could feel the blood pumping drunkenly through his veins, it called to her just as her mother’s and father’s had called to her. Winter’s smile widened. She was a Child of the Night and all who walked through her domain, along her dimly lit paths were hers to take as she wished.

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