Love is Unconditional

The werewolf’s eyes dance greedily over his lover’s form, silhouetted against the window. She hums, washing the dishes, blissfully unaware of his presence. She still believes he is chained in the basement of their home. Those chains did not hold him tonight. She will finally understand what it means to be loved by a werewolf.


As the Sand Falls

I watch the sand trickle softly downwards. “So I’m really going to die?”
“Uh-huh.” The cloaked man in the corner said absently, looking at the knick-knacks on my library shelves.
“This is the part when you tell me you’re kidding.”
“Really? Sorry, I’m unversed in mortal slang.” Death said, taking the hourglass. “Well, let’s go.”