While Bryant follows the demon into its cave miles away, the snow has continued to fall. Back in the Brazilian quarter the same dog is once again whimsically running through the streets. It\'s late now, and the only sounds that can be heard are that of tires on broken glass, and the slow, sweet melody of snow fall. The roads are now covered in the angelic white powder, the vampire\'s car being only one of a few cars that escaped the icy death. The baby has grown quiet. Whether it has been soothed by its mother, or something more sinister, only the supernaturals know.
The streets are empty now, save for one loan figure. Veronica the lesbian walks up and down, pacing the social work office that she\'d been at earlier today. Veronica thinks of Miss Jessica, Mr. Kurt and Mr. Bryant, and is thankful that they tried so hard to help her. Yet, when she\'d gotten to the shelter, she\'d found her spot taken by another, with the only explanation being a paperwork error. With nowhere else to go, Veronica has come back here, in hopes of finding Miss Jessica.
She is cold, with no proper winter coat to keep her warm. Her long flowing locks are covered in ice and her breath looks like fog in the night. Yet still she paces, up and down, and up and down. She hears a sound. Is it Miss Jessica? Is it Mr. Bryant?
Crunch Crunch Crunch
Footsteps in the snow grow closer. Veronica can\'t see the owner of the feet, for as it had been established it\'s to dark to see.
"Miss Jessica," Veronica calls out. No answer.
Crunch Crunch Crunch
Veronica thinks that she should run, but as she turns a hand wraps itself around her throat. She can\'t scream. The cold and the hand have seen to that. Her terror can only be conveyed through her eyes. The last thing she see\'s is a pair of white fangs as the move towards her throat. Red blood hits the white snow. Veronica is dead.
The vampire drops her dead body on the doorsteps of the social work office. Nobody will care if another dead dyke is found. The vampire goes off into the night, its agenda accomplished. Another left behind taken care off, another leech taken out of the system. The dog stops running, and goes up to the body. It sniffs, licks, and then cries. The dog is sad. It howls at the blotted out moon.
/end
