Fade Spooktober
Fingers clenched around the Lamia’s fang pulled from his gut. Vision faded to the dull blank of the psychometric savant, as flickers of their fight flooded backward to the haze of the fang’s transmogrification. Hazy images, damaged by exhaustion and venom coursing through the blood lost and spattered into the concealing rain.
A woman wrapped in paper and rags. A tooth slopped from its greying loose socket, as the clip-clip of heels strutted along the confined space. An alley?
‘Well, here’s a woman whose had a few rough and tumbles.’ The voice. Caleb peered through the murk of his lost concentration, a sultry alto as clipped as her resounding heels. Familiar. ‘Want to get back at the men who did this to you? We’re here to help, dear. Don’t spoil the offering.’
The tooth slid to the ground, the swell of images with it. “I know that voice.”
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