And my killing spree continues...
Her palms were completely burned,black scroch marks adorning them.
The trees held the same markings. Standing tall, shamelessly showing them for all to see.
His corpse collapsed, ashes covering the white of his bones.
Tears shed downward, landing softly on her burnt palms. With the salty feel to them, it onlly ignited the pain once again. More tears were produced, bringing the process full circle.
The images flashed in front of her eyes, replaying the horrors she witnessed. They slipped in and out of focus, blurring together as the flames licked at them.
Her control slipped away from her -- not him as everyone suspected. Her vision was overtaken into a world filled with different hues of red and purple.
Self pity flowed through her as her hands shook, the match falling from it.
"You can't be sure a vampire is dead till you burn them... Why not the same for werewolves?"