He can feel a warm sensation in his veins. It tingles. His eyes grow blurry so he shakes his head to regain his vision. He wanted to experience this, study it. He attempts to stand but his legs feel like jelly.

He examines the wound on his neck. It’s sticky and damp and he pulls a trail of the slimy substance away, holding it in front of his eyes.

It’s sticky and runny at the same time and grips onto his fingers as if attempting to holds itself there. It seems almost alive.

The attackers are completely ignoring him now and have moved to surround Moe who is still fighting.

Fuck! How could I have let him creep up on me like that?

The