Sight

Edgar could see strange things. The shadows danced, dark one moment and then light, playing through the buildings and gutters. Colors blurred and jumped, strangely bright, more vibrant than they had been before. How had he ever lived before this?

His blood shot eyes darted over the streets. The Monastery was visible from this place, the steeple glimmering in the moonlight. It was quiet. People were asleep in their beds, dreaming terrible things. Edgar watched a man stumble home on the street, drunk and stupid. Not for much longer.

Edgar smiled and licked his teeth. It was a beautiful night. He looked down at the girl in his arms and ripped out her throat.