They sat at the wooden table with the chessboard between them, just as they had sat every evening for the last two years. The boy scrunched up his face and concentrated. He had never once beaten Alistair, but tonight he was close. Alistair stared at him with his piercing blue eyes, his spidery white fingers casually moving a pawn.

“You think I’m a monster, don’t you, Joshua?”

Josh didn’t answer. He pondered sacrificing his knight. Of course Alistair was a monster, how could he be anything else? Every full moon he chose a victim, a victim for his feast. And every full moon he grew stronger, so that each new victim was easier prey.

But Josh was not a monster. He was proud he had never tasted human flesh–that in the two years since he had been turned he had quenched his hunger on the night of the full moon with rabbits and squirrels.

“Maybe I am,” said Alistair, “But there are monsters worse than me in this world. You are lucky, Joshua; lucky you have me to protect you. I was not so fortunate.” Alistair took a long breath in and exhaled slowly, “neither was my mother . . .”

Continue reading the story in Writers’ Anarchy III: Heroes & Villains – Available now on Amazon.



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