"Master!"
It was faint, but it came again. Harker still has his wide opened mouth placed over Joan's expressionless face, as if he was going to bite her entire head off.
"Master!"
The sound was like falling rain, not soft snow. No, it was like the dripping of blood.
This had happened before. It was much clearer in his mind now, that night he became something else. He was about to die, and only his instincts saved him. He accepted it instead of fighting back, even when it was wrong, or disgusting, or whatever people may say.
He ate flesh.
And now he wants nothing else but to do that, his whole life.
"Master!"
The final call, like the final ringing of a bell, was like an offer to a choice. It was beckoning, yes, but it was still up to him in the end.
Which was stronger within him? To fight or to succumb?
