The Dark Sire Issue 1 (Fall 2019) | Page 86

“Oh my…” a maid said, stepping back when she saw the girl’s face. “Don’t move!” I said with steel in my voice. I was waiting for the girl to pounce. She had transformed into a fiend – a creature of prey, and fiends attacked indiscriminately without provocation, making them unpredictable. The only thing I knew for certain was that the girl would attack anything that moved out of hunger and lust for blood. “Sara,” the mother began but paused, her eyes trembling. “Darling?” The girl quickly drew her feet under and heaved herself forward, pointed fingernails outstretched straight for her mother’s throat, jaw opening to sink her fangs into the woman’s soft flesh. I instantly grabbed the girl’s foot – mere centimeters from her prey, pulled her back, and slammed her into the oak headboard. My hand landed at her throat and I squeezed her jugular like a vice-grip. The girl’s limbs twitched as I incapacitated her. A tear rolled down her pointy, disfigured cheek. “What’s going on? I thought you were going to cure her!” the girl’s father said. “She was too far gone. I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry?!” “David, please!” the girl’s mother interrupted. “You just had to deny the symptoms. ‘She’ll be OK,’ you said. Now look.” “Julia!” 84