The blood moon

In the dawn that breaks without falling, before the dusk that rises with the bloodshot red emanating from all sides of the night sky, there was nothing comparable to the red in the eyes of the fangs lurking in the shadows. It was their strongest moments. The ones who saw through the blanket of nights that covered images in the darkest of skies where no normal human eyes could see. The blood suckers with fangs always as young and firm as their age in time. No one was too old to live and no one was too young to hunt. They hunted alike. Like the bats that crush down on insects at night, to the tiger tearing through the tears ripped on his prey by his teeth while on savage attack.

The life force of all supernatural life forms, the vampires. The beings with the eternal ability to live through time and all they had to do was just to constantly renew their blood sacrifice by picking any young human they’d like to live in for the next five thousand years.

It was also during this