It's not safe outside.
They are waiting for me.
Waiting for my blood.
I thought that if I was quick enough, I could do some work in my garden without being noticed.
I was quiet and discrete, staying close to the ground.
Wearing camouflaged coveralls and mask, I attempted invisibility.
That was vain.
They could smell my fear.
They crave the meat under my skin.
My meat is life to them and they devour it without hesitation.
I am cattle to their slaughter.
It is their purpose in life, their only thought, their passion, their job.
I managed to get my garden planted in short intervals.
I could only stand the attacks for so long before running back to the safety of my castle.
Summer is in bloom on my mountain top and I long for the peaceful walks through the forest.
That pleasure will have to wait awhile.
They are out there. Waiting for my blood.
In time, they will die.
Die from too short a lifespan? Die from lack of feeding?
I don't care as long as they die!
Then it will be my time. For now, it is their time.
The vampires of Maine.
The winged carnivores.
Oh, how I hate the Black Fly.
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