ELEANOR
Blood.
It was everywhere.
On the ground, in his hands, in my hair where it had sprayed when he—
I shut my eyes, but it didn't drown out the sound.
That sound.
The wet sound of flesh tearing from bone.
When I opened them again, he was standing over the body—or what was left of it—blood dripping down his arm, his chest rising slowly and deliberately.
And for a heartbeat, he wasn't a man at all.
I could see something darker, taller and heavier leaking through his outline.
Its shoulders were hunched, its head bowed, like the most fearsome of predators.
Dark smoke poured from it, engulfing the sunlight around his form, and his eyes… his eyes weren't golden-brown anymore.
They were on fire.
I blinked hard, and the image vanished just like that. And then, he was just… him
