Dwayne rolled around in the pool of blood leaking from his wife’s body. Some part of him wanted to be horrified. Some part of him wanted to scream. But that part was lost in chaos of what he had become. The warm red liquid felt so good. He shivered with pleasure as the red liquid slid over his skin like a sheer silk robe.
‘Wayne?’ Megan’s voice was weak from blood loss. “Are you still in there?”
Dwayne inhaled the bright scent of her fear, but did not answer her call. He sighed with delight and wriggled in the warm liquid again. This would end all too soon. Megan would die and he’d have to leave this crimson bliss. He looked at the woman and frowned. She was staring at him with dimly lit eyes. Something akin to pity stirred in those wide pupils.
“The children?” She asked, her voice full of concern. “Them, too?”
Rage surged through Dwayne. Of course she wanted to know about the damn bastards fast asleep upstairs. They were fine. Whatever hexes Megan set on their rooms held.
Dwayne grunted wildly and flopped onto his stomach. The squelch of cooling blood made his stomach turn, but he felt compelled to bury his face in the gel.
“Wayne,” Megan croaked, “Can you hear me?”
He grunted again and smeared her blood on his face. Suddenly, the thing in him lurched in terror. Megan’s sweet voice chanted softly. The words tugged at the man inside the blood-soaked monster.