#nightofthehunted

[essentiallyoutsider]

[elumen]

Sugestão de filme: Night of the Hunted (Noite da caça) Uma mulher desavisada pára em um posto de gasolina remoto na calada da noite e torna o joguete de um atirador sociopata com uma vingança secreta. Para sobreviver, ela deve não apenas desviar de suas balas e lutar por sua vida, mas também descobrir quem a quer morta e por quê.

[i2iphoto]

Great image from Matt Henry’s new book "Night of the Hunted." Check out his feature on Metal Magazine!

See more of Matt’s work here:

http://www.i2iphoto.com/photographers/matt-henry

[i2iphoto]

Another image from @matthenryphoto new book "Night of the Hunted." Check out his feature on @metal_magazine where he talks about the inspiration behind his images.

See more of Matt’s work at:

http://www.i2iphoto.com/photographers/matt-henry

[i2iphoto]

An image from Matt Henry’s new book “Night of the Hunted.”  Check out his feature in Metal Magazine.

See more of Matt’s work at:

http://www.i2iphoto.com/photographers/matt-henry

[jo-simba-blog]

Le Soir De La Chasse || Joey and Veronica

As soon as the door to Betty's rang, announcing she was alone, Joey rolled over on her side and clamped a bruised and bloody hand to her still bleeding neck.

The shift ceased almost instantly – her body recognizing that she wasn’t in any immediate danger and that the transformation might kill her at such levels of blood loss.

She laid like this on Betty’s floor for a few minutes as her body calmed; her own heartbeat slowing to an unhealthy pace. When she finally lifted herself; both of her legs gave out and she crumbled to the floor. Her skin held an unhealthy twinge in the moonlight of Betty’s kitchen, she felt herself fading in and out as she half crawled, half stumbled to her bag. She pulled her phone out; small smears of blood marked the touchscreen as she dialed the number to the only person she wanted help from. 

Joey felt her hands shake as the phone started to ring and she pressed her back firmly against the wall; she ripped the bottom half of her shirt off and held it firmly against her bite mark. It was still bleeding lightly; but the vampire had gotten a good bit of her blood in the few moments it took for her to fight back.

It took more than a few rings for Veronica to answer the phone in a sleepy voice; the blonde didn’t waste any time: “Veronica,” her voice broke before she could continue. She grunted roughly, pushing her head back up against the wall. She was having a hard time keeping herself focused, “I need you at Betty’s right now,” the phone slipped out her bloody hand and she decided against reaching for it. It was only a minute drive from the clinic to Betty’s – living in a small town had its many perks.

The werecat glanced around the café. There were two separate smears of blood across the floor: one where she had hit her head when the vampire tackled her and the other when she slipped after kicking him. She counted three, maybe four small pools of her own blood. V’s going to be pissed, Joey thought as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to hold off falling asleep until the doctor arrived.