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architecture of the town.
‘Fledglings,’ smiled Wren, knowing full well these
were the newly dead, unsure of their abilities, reckless in
their tactics and ravenous in their hunger for fresh blood.
‘You pieces of shit,’ he grunted. ‘I see you.’
The monsters crawled down the disheveled
buildings and down onto the ground, some on all fours
while others of noticeably older age chose to hover just
above the dirt, the pompous pricks.
‘Seems like a lot of you ugly cunts for one feed,
doesn’t it?’ shouted Wren as he looked around, noticing the
vampires had him in a complete circle. With every beat of
his heavy heart, Wren’s vision altered. With every forceful
pump of blood around his body, Wren’s nocturnal vision
flashed outowards in a visible explosion only he could see.
A pulse would shoot out across the area, scanning every
nook and cranny, bringing to light form and movement.
This was a strange skill he had developed as he escaped the
vampire nest as a child, and it was a skill the vampires
themselves used, not dissimilar to the echo location skill of