Cosmopolitan Blood Loss.

Chapter 6

The lovely blonde hair that was not heavy with blood blew wildly in the wind. Blood pooled everywhere; Around his body, flowing through the cracks in the cobblestone, along the sidewalks to the gutters.

Though to see death's aftermath was my career, my passion, I had never once seen death in motion. It was more terrifying and exhilarating than I would have ever imagined.

The fear letting up, I cautiously left my place on the cement wall and side-stepped the stairs down to the street.

Kneeling down over the body now, I could see how extensive the damage was. The limbs were twisted at least twice around, bones sticking out of pale flesh, the left leg twisted flat under his torso, but the bone sticking up vertically, right through his lower stomach.

I almost called for Shant then, but decided I could fix this problem on my own, though I don't know how anyone could fix this, but the least I could do was maybe get his wallet and see if he had any family to call.

Nothing in his back pockets.

My converse wedged underneath his shoulder and it took me quite a few shoves until his body finally flipped over on it's back. The force of this new exertion cause the bone through his abdomen to pop back through, though it still lay on his stomach, a gurgle of new blood flowed out as the wound was now unobstructed. The damage looked far worse from this new vantage point.

Through all this carnage, all I could stare at was his face now. The owner of the beautiful flaxen hair had an even more striking face, aged a little by the sullenness of the cheek bones. His skin was pale and smooth, he had a very European nose, it was long and pointy, but in a good way. His eyes were clenched shut, honey eyebrows pulled together in the fear that must have set over him as he fell through the air. But when I looked upon the lips, they were smiling... A horrible grin. And then all of a sudden his blue lips moved to expose two fangs, then formed the word, "Boo."

I stumbled back, catching my sneaker on the sidewalk and falling onto the cold cement. My palms stung from bracing my fall and my lungs were aching from the heavy breathing I was producing, but I watched.

The body trembled horribly, every inch of the flesh crawled, followed by a horrible popping and grating sound.

The bones were retreating back into the skin, snapping back together.

I closed my eyes now as I held a hand over my mouth to hold back from throwing up what little food my stomach held. But the noises soon stopped and so did the feeling, so I opened my eyes again.

The man was gone. The only thing that proved I had not been hallucinating were the streams of blood flowing through the street.

I took the opportunity, adrenaline pumping, to run as fast as I could back up the cathedral stairs, tripping up every single one of them, but when I reached the landing I was yanked back so hard by my hair, I thought I'd been scalped.

The voice in my ear was as icy as the breath that followed it, numbing the lobe.

"Send your little lover a message for me: His old friend has come back and I intend on celebrating, I was thinking a nice bonfire. You're invited, of course. You can watch the flesh melt off the bones of your little Shant Tresloux."