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By Alisa Morgan

He stepped into the crowded room, pushing the heavy drapes behind him. Feeling their weight on his back, he scanned the ballroom for prospective victims. As he walked slowly to one of the card tables, set aside for bored fathers and chaperones, he was conscious of the hearts of the throng beating, a smooth blanket of sound and feeling. He was soon aware of the gazes turned on him by hungry females, eager for the wealth and privilege he appeared to offer. He wondered who would make the first move. The room fell away as he studied them. The curvaceous brunette, already licking her lips in anticipation, the tall blond, nervously trying to decide on the right course of action, the.His train of thought was broken abruptly by a light tap in his shoulder.

"May I have this dance?"


The evening passed in a blur of women, smothering him with their overpowering humanity, but always his gaze returned to the dark-haired witch who had been first to approach. She was the one. As the evening drew to a close, he contrived to end a dance near her, and asked his victim if she was at all amenable to a short stroll around the grounds.

"I thought you'd never ask."

He blinked in surprise at her bluntness, but let it go. It wasn't as if it mattered particularly anyway. As they reached the rose arbour, he paused.

"Eleanor". He fixed her with his piercing blue eyes. "I have something to tell you". She looked up at him, unafraid. "I'm."

"Dead". She cut in smoothly. He gawped in amazement. She smiled. He wondered how he could have failed to notice the elongated canines before.

"Please." he scrambled for words, gasping in terror. "I'm sorry. I'm just a poor man. I just wanted a rich wife. I just. Please."

Words failed him as she sank her fangs into his neck and drank. As the body crumpled to the ground the crimson-lipped figure smiled benevolently. "I forgive you". She laughed, mockingly making the sign of the cross over the corpse, before becoming one with the shadows.

-- END --

This story also appears on the website The Refuge.

You can e-mail Alisa Morgan at

All work is the property of its author and is reprinted with permission. All Things Zombie owns none of the rights to the stories herein. For information on how to obtain the rights to these stories, please consult the author.

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