Allyn and Ransom – 20

 

Grigore nodded in appreciation. At least this one was using his brain. He had watched from a distance as his prey had covered his body with dirt. Not that it made any difference in the grand scheme of things. Grigore still knew exactly where the young man was, even though he was a good quarter of a mile away. The lad was moving slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. If Grigore had been human, he might have lost him—but he wasn't. He could hear every footstep, every breath, his prey made, and smell his blood.

 

An hour passed. The bright moon was beginning to lower, casting long shadows between the trees. Moving closer but staying hidden, Grigore saw the young man pause for a moment, looking around and up. Intentionally, Grigore stepped on a fallen branch. It snapped under his foot. The lad spun around, panic written on his face and in the way he held his body. Instead of running, however, as Grigore had expected, his prey made a leap for a low tree branch, pulling himself up, then climbing higher.

 

Clever. You are definitely better than the others.

 

Grigore waited. His prey waited. After a time, very carefully, the young man climbed down to the ground. Inch by inch, he crept deeper into the trees, and closer to the wall surrounding the estate.

 

Remaining where he was, Grigore listened. A few minutes later he heard a low moan and the whispered words, "No. No. How…?" He knew his prey was at the wall. He heard him moving along it, undoubtedly looking for a tree—other than the multitude of pines by the wall—he could shimmy up to get to the top. The lad's breath was coming in terrified pants now. Grigore could read his dread—smell it emanating from his pores.

 

Silently Grigore followed, moving closer with each step. It was dark beside the wall. The young man was creeping along, dragging his hand across the bricks, obviously praying he'd find a door, a gate—some way to escape.

 

"You have played the game well," Grigore pronounced, finally stepping into view.

 

His prey gasped, pressing against the wall, his hands fisted in front of him.

 

"Because you have exceeded my expectations, I shall make your death swift and painless." Then Grigore attacked. The lad tried to run, to fight, to no avail. Grigore was on him seconds later, tearing open his throat, drinking deeply until his prey was dead. Then he picked up the lifeless body. Throwing it over his shoulder, he carried it to the burying ground.