A Swelling Brood

The only thing louder than the sound of moans is the sound of flapping wings. A woman, her clothes reduced to rags, is held by six winged figures in the air. As their wings beat to keep her helplessly suspended they bite into her flesh wherever they can find the space. Restrained as she is she can do nothing but writhe as she is drained of blood. Not that she would do anything if she could - the immodest moans, puffy nipples and damp crotch are an indication of how much she's enjoying herself.

For some reason as the brood has grown so has its' ability to infect humans. Before bodies would be dead and cold for some time before they would rise but as the girl shows this is no longer the case. She's still conscious and has blood left to drink but already changes are occurring - her skin has grown pale, her ears have started to become pointed, and when her mouth is open you can already see fangs beginning to sprout. It's a development that pleases you or to be more specific pleases the unquenchable urge to spread.

But the numbers of visitors to the room has dwindled. Even with the increased numbers meaning you no longer have to wait for anyone to enter, being able to simply grab and overpower them as they come in, there's no way you can satisfy yourself like this.

You imagine escaping into the city, biting and turning until your brood grows large enough to blot out the very skies! But the only exit you know of is through the crypt. You growl out of instinct when you think of those...creatures out there. Those 'brides' are nothing but empty, vapid things - wearing fine silks and satin to distract themselves from the fact that they are nothing but slaves to a decrepit old man they call 'master'. No doubt they would look down on you, even attack you, for your freedom.