He was quietly seated on top a tombstone; still as a perched stone gargoyle. His albescent tunic now literally soiled as dirt peppered his clothing. He took in deep breaths; apparently his extrication from the grave took alittle bit more effort than he had expected.
The air around him was refreshing and cool, in the silent of the night, with full moon's lustre empowering his every being, he was unstoppable.
The night is still young and the newly risen demon required sustenance.
After a century of slumber, he could think of nothing except to feed. The ravenous hunger droved his every motive. He leapt to his feet and took a quick glance around as his body began priming itself for the hunt ahead.
The devil is loose.
-Zarae.P!nk
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