Her patience was waning fast. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. Oh! my dear, dear son, be warned in time. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. She thought of Capes. He warned her that it drove most men mad and that the process for choosing another to become a vampire was lengthy and protracted with good reason.
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