From behind the steeple, the moon casts silver light onto the courtyard where cherry blossom sways gently in the night air. The cathedral serves as home to any miserable soul that will take it. This delicate structure is supported by cracked buttresses, the bases of which are plagued with withered spider vines. Sections of the roof are missing, the shattered shingles lying scattered among the rotting pews. The now leather seating had been completely over run by brown, putrid mould. There were holes in the stained glass windows. The floor was decorated with silver spotlights like a ballroom dance-floor. High above, bats went shrieking into the cold, clear night. Amidst all the darkness and disarray, a faint light illuminated an obscure lump of rock that served as an altar.

   From behind the lump came a rather odd looking man who was ashen grey, his mouth was drawn tight at the corners. He wore the black clothes of a Priest; the cuffs were torn and ragged pieces of cloth fluttered behind him. Faint orange candlelight danced upon his face casting shadows that revealed every wrinkle and edge. He might have been 50 but the look in his ragged eyes suggested an age far beyond that of human capacity. In those eyes lay a tired lust as if he had been in pursuit of something unattainable all his life. In his shriveled hands he bore an ancient book whose pages had turned a sickly yellow, and whose cover had been rubbed clean of its fabric face. Satanic symbols had been carved into the border of the cover.

   He brought the book up to rest upon the uneven surface of the rock. From above, a rusty cage descended on the man as he murmured vague incantations. The man then stopped and shut the book with much reverence.

He cast his eyes towards the empty pews that confessed no presence of life and in a dry, tortured tone he spoke, “You may rise.”

As if they had been there for the entire service, and had not just risen out of infernal nothingness, row upon row of dark figures had now stood. Hundreds of bright red eyes focused with the utmost of intensity on the caged man. Each eye seemed to be filled with a cannibal lust that was under more influence than even the most intoxicating drug.

   Simultaneously, a hundred deformed maws opened revealing impressive canine teeth. Within seconds the teeth had grown to nearly twice their original length. Fangs glistened in the moonlight.

Out of the crowd stepped a pale young girl with braided pigtails. Miniature canines poked out from underneath her bow lips. Then another older man stepped out followed by a young woman who was pregnant. Sections of her stomach bulged out; perhaps the child was trying to bite its way out to get the man?

   Soon the entire mass was converging on the caged man. As if he had fallen out of a trance, the man suddenly shuddered violently and backed away from the advancing death. The cage jerked slightly towards the ceiling of the cathedral and then continued its ascent. The last vestiges of safety had slipped away into impenetrable shadows.

   An elderly woman reached him first and seized the panicking man, with her grotesquely shrivelled hands, she held him down. At her touch he screamed as if possessed by a hellish demon. Her mouth opened as wider than an abyss and she brought her teeth to his neck. Her teeth punctured his throbbing artery. He let out one last bloody, piercing shriek, and his arms flailed wildly at the air. His eyes rolled backwards into his head. Blood cascaded down his neck and stained his soiled collar a crimson red. His movements became sluggish and slow until he moved no more. The elderly woman who was feasting on him let his limp body fall to the ground with a muffled thump. Frozen on his face was an expression of unspeakable horror. The woman threw her head back and let out a deep, throaty moan that tapped into the deepest wells of inhuman passion and contentment.

   Bloated clouds rolled along in the sky and hid the moon’s indifferent gaze. The entire chamber of the cathedral went pitch black as the patches of moonlight were snuffed. When the clouds finally parted and the moon shone brilliantly again, there was not a soul to be seen.

   Not a breath to be drawn.

   Not a witness to bear.

   All that was left was the holy man bathed in a pool of silver and red. His feeble body alone served as a testament to the animal passion of the children of the night.