Invocation | Opening Dialogue:

Miasma surrounds the moons radiance in a lonely autumn night sky. Shadowy eyes silently stare off into the distance, rhythmically contemplating thoughts; as chilling droplets of cold autumn rain beat against the warmth of their bodies. Howling wind, filled with smoke, laces around his lengthy midnight hair, as the droplets of rain become beaded jewels intertwine; causing a sparkle in the flicker of the balcony torch light.

It did not matter the unrelenting, irregular, precipitation, soaked clear through the fabric of his blood stained clothing, nor the chill that gnawed down to the very fiber of his bones. The slight tinge of painful memories crept upon his mind, as he clinches at his chest, holding the lifeless delicate body against him; willing his body numb. Utterly lost in the sense of letting go, as the rhythmic vibrations slow over his body; tired of the hunt, tired of the smell of blood, tired of everything he did, till this very moment.

……..no longer in the affection of the unresponsive body in his hands………
He truly knew now that he is cursed, and the rain that beat upon him was the only thing he could feel…wet…cold and alone.