Lush color, the red rose patterns, the wooden walls. It was charming, clean room, and Lucy loved the place: she loved to lay in the peach-pink bed, spreading her turquoise night gown on the sheets, feeling blood and life filling her. She kept her glass doors open to the night and watched the autumn leaves raining to the floor.
When she had wandered to the graveyard and killed two grave robbers, the local peasants had spoken about vampires: no one did anything. When the children had started to die, they had called Van Helsing back.
It was better to wait... to wait that someone would come from the open glass doors, thinking that she was helpless.
Like those young boys with odd, ugly clothes and strange way to speak.
Naughty naughty naughty, filthy young droogs.
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