Moonlight whispers against the grey stone of the church, reverberating against the silence of the night. Blood drops onto the snow, staining the pristine white in taints of crimson. I stare at the contrasting colour and then reach towards the crack in the sky. More blood runs down my arm.
“Are you satisfied yet? Is this enough?”
No answer. The crack does not close. I go back inside the church.
The bodies are still there, but the blood is gone. Except for what remains on my hands. They never take that. I think it amuses them.
I hear a rustle, beyond the pews.
Did I miss one?
I move forward. A child crouches behind the altar and scuttles backward into the shadows when he sees me.
I smile, the sadness of inevitability behind the gesture. “You’re afraid, I understand. I must seem a monster to you. Were some of these…
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