She had watched him his entire life. Outside, in the cold and the dark, she waited. Clinging to other side of Adam's bedroom wall she patiently monitored his maturity and growth. How many nights had he gazed out the window and seen only his own reflection on the blackness of the glass pane, unaware of the buxom figure just inches away, looking back?
She loved him, in a way. She had cared for and protected Adam from the shadows, keeping him safe and exacting terrible revenge on those who hurt him. Cruel teachers might vanish. Families of neighborhood bullies would move in the middle of the night, leaving their belongings and no forwarding address.
Her subtle psychic influence had cultivated the boy's fondness of horror movies, monster comics and the novels of Steven King, Dean Koontz and Clive Barker. This would make harvest easier and tonight was harvest night. The adult male contains more than a gallon of blood, and Adam had finally reached maximum yield. She would do her best to make the process as tender as possible.
Xie xie for stopping by!
