The carnage left behind was atrocious. It looked just like the night of the Full Moon Gala.
Bodies scattered all around. Homes burnt to ash. Debris was everywhere. Business had been crushed. Roads cracked and broken.
Groans escaped from a handful of wolves clinging to life among the wreckage, their faces marked by devastation and surrender. Vampires strode past, spears in hand, with swift thrusts to their skulls, granting them a final death.
The smell of death, fear and iron clung to the air like a lifeline. Filling it and flooding the senses.
Blood stained the soil, screams haunted the air, so much that the their voices echoed in the wind. Like the pain left a permanent scar on the land.
Violet looked at the massacre, and where guilt should have been, an empty hollow space was there instead.
She felt nothing at the moment. No sadness, no anger, no furry. Nothing. Like everything that made her, her, had been cleared out and she was just an empty vessel.
