Griffyd Fychan squatted low in the darkness, his muscled haunches bunching as he spread his clawed feet to grip the pavement. He felt the steady bump-thump of his heart as the decay of the creature he hunted wafted through his nose, across his tongue.
Vampire. An ambulatory corpse that resembled humans only in that they had legs, arms and a head. The similarities ended there. Griffyd had seen them up close as he had slain them, so he knew. Knew that they sported needle fangs and razor claws with which to extract blood from their victims.
Griffyd watched the offensive creature creep along the shadows of the brick wall of the grocery store, silent in its pursuit for the opportune moment the woman would step from the ring of light illuminating the store’s entrance and into the night that swallowed her car.
The woman shifted her bags, the jangle of her keys tinkling like a starter bell in Griffyd’s ears. He leapt from his crouch, springing the distance between himself and the vampire like a rock flung from a slingshot.
In a single, graceful motion, his clawed fingers gripped the vampire’s nape as he coiled his arm to draw the loathsome creature toward him, crushing his fanged jaws to its cold neck, shredding its head from its shoulders before it could even hiss. With another quick swipe, he snatched his fingers into the hair of the dropping head, then bolted backward into the deeper shadows, hauling his kill along with him.
Griffyd scraped a muscled forearm across his mouth to rid his lips of the residue left by the vampire. There had been no blood; the damned thing had needed sustenance desperately, yet the vampire-killer felt no pangs of sympathy in his beating heart. The creature he had slain had been dead already, its hunger for blood an abhorrent postponing of the decomposition nature had intended.
**To see more Sneak Peeks click here: