Night Kill

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The shimmering moonlight danced across the fields of white which were etched with black shadows of forest trees. The cold winter night lay still with nary a breath of wind, or sounds from the forest creatures.

A dark manor at the end of the long, winding road, quietly nestled, seeming snug and warm, waited for those who had been invited to come safely inside.

Natasha, and her husband Jonathan, were putting the finishing touches on their dining room table. While Jonathan arranged the place settings, Natasha lit the candles and dimmed the lights. Tonight they were celebrating the winter solstice. Soon their guests would arrive to partake of the rituals set forth by the clan. It would be a celebration for both kindred and those whose life blood was freely offered for the taking.

The doorbell interrupted as it announced the first guest to arrive. Natasha told her husband she would get it and that he should finish with the settings. She excused herself and left the dining room to go answer the door.

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