It was dark, black as ink, and William could not breathe or see.
Panic and fear held him in its grip as he pounded against his confines, his fingernails raw and bloody from his effort to escape.
Above him, Angelus lay atop his grave in the deserted cemetery, one ear pressed closely to the newly turned earth. "Good lad, Willie, just a wee bit more..."
William heard Angelus and was buoyed with hope. Gathering all of his strength, he groaned and pushed, rejoicing when he broke free.
"Aye... Sire," Angelus smiled, then opened his wrist for his new childe.