Lovers For The Blood Moon
The spectral crowd advanced, silent but certain.
Then one figure stepped from the darkness taller than the rest. Its face was John’s, twisted. A corrupted twin. His eyes cold. Hands cracked. A voice, John’s voice, but hollow:
*“I remember you.”*
Sarah screamed. I froze. David trembled. John’s real torch flickered somewhere in the abyss.
The twin advanced, reaching toward David. The spectral leader hovered above the altar. Roots lanced outward, pulling at flesh, stone, and blood.
The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was a hand, pale and broken, stepping between the altar and us
Bab Populer