Feb 25
In Sanguine Veritas
Ten feet from you, ten feet and thirty years down the path, she stops. Lifts her head. You can hear her breathing. See, delirious and ecstatic, the flutter of her pulse in her bared throat. She's taken off her scarf, sweating in the frosty air, and her shoulders heave. Camphor and ambergris, the smell of the wet, dying earth. A hint of smoke, of sulfur beneath. You lick your lips, and watch her yellow eyes narrow.
Thirty years after disappearing in the night, a body finds its way home.
Content Warnings:
Blood
Plague
Entry to the 2026 Queer Vampire Jam!
