PRIEST: Sanguisage

“Priest,” the voice whispered. A grating sound more akin to a rasp, “Thy cross is of little use if the armour behind it is broken.” “Step into the darkness, say goodbye to the light. We live in eternity, where every day is night.” Unknown Author “They had forgotten the first lesson, that we are to be powerful, beautiful and without regret.” Anne Rice This is another short story for this months BLOGBATTLE prompt word Hatch SANGUISAGE Maggie woke layered in perspiration. Trickles of blood ran from the edges of a silver cross the returning nightmare forced her to grip in sleep. She dreamt, as always, of Houghton Fengrave and Eleanor Carter. The she-devil dressed in innocence and smiles. A temptress her brother had been beguiled by when stakes were supposed to render her to ash. Maggie had fled straight into guilt. Driven by terror and not even looking to see if Jacob was following. She had lived, he was missing. Except she knew he wasn’t. Just not there as Jacob anymore. The trappings were yes, …

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