Somewhere to Hide

Another Wild Vampire and another one, and another one too, all smelled the blood coming from Max's bleeding shoulder, their nostrils flaring as wild beasts. They didn't need to command their legs to move; their bodies were instinctively drawn to the scent like moths to flame.

His inability to heal his wounds as a Vampire Slave was really a unique one in a million curse that could doom his life if he was to be able to die the normal ways.

Blood's sweet aroma wafted through the air, a deadly allure that drew the Wild Vampires inexorably near. Max's makeshift plan to stanch the scent with sand now seemed a futile endeavor; what a desperate gambit against the inevitable.

His fist, sunk into the sand, appeared to be a futile bulwark against the horrors that closed in. The Wild Vampires loomed, their eyes burning red with an unholy hunger...

Not as unholy as the abnormally silent Wild Vampire that was in the alleyway...