The smell of blood drew me into consciousness. Shock hit me when I opened my eyes. The once stark white sheet that used to cover the couch was now stained red. The smell of familiar blood wafted into my nose. I’d tasted it before. It was Brenna’s. Droplets of it had dribbled on the floor as if a child had run rampant with a bucket of paint. My jaw hardened. My teeth sharpened all at once, leaving me with a furrow of fangs. The edges shredded my gums, and blood welled up inside my mouth. Unconsciously, I licked my lips as the thick liquid slid down my throat. My fingernails hardened into black talons until they were six inches long, the full extent of their length. I got up slowly from my resting place listening, for any sound of Brenna, but I was met with utter silence. Nothing breathed inside the house, except the ghosts, which lingered within my mind, but even those past whispers were silent now. I scanned the room with all my senses for any sign of Brenna but found none. I looked down at the dribbles.
