As I walked down Hughes Street, I started making
a plan in my head. First, I would backtrack to find where
Sara was found or likely bitten. Second, I would talk to the
neighboring businesses and families. Third, I’d inhabit the
haunts that a fiend might occupy in order to spy on young
girls. Fourth, I’d sit and wait for anyone remotely
suspicious and especially of Transylvanian breed. Though
the weakest of vampires, Transylvanians are the most
cunning; they have to be since they have little else to
support them. The problem was that a Transylvanian
vampire would avoid danger, and I might very well
frighten him away. It would be a predicament but one that
I needed to worry about when the time came. That night, I
just didn’t care.
I rounded the corner onto Piccadilly, a usually busy
street that wasn’t much busy at two in the morning. The
streetlights were on, one every twenty-five feet or so, and
the ground still glistened from the rain that fell earlier, but
it was the snow that captured my notice. Mounds of snow,
from naturally fallen to mechanically plowed, lined the
street. The light above gently bathed the snow in yellow
hue, creating a majestic, surreal moment that warmed my
very soul. I felt like I was at home, in church, wrapped in
the Lord’s way. I continued to take in the imagery, my eyes
closed, as I began to pray a silent prayer for Sara. After a
moment, something cold melted on my forehead, then my
cheek and my nose. Opening my eyes, I saw unique
crystalized water falling from the sky. The free snowfall in
the yellow light calmed me as I stood there, just breathing
in the cold air, filling my lungs with the fresh bite of
winter. I exhaled a deep sigh of frozen air and the regret I
felt for Emily left me. Emily! I suddenly knew why I was
so agitated, which meant that I needed to move on.
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