A night like none.

Note: this is neither a short story nor a poem, it is a combination of both. I call it a conglomerate*. (not sure if there is an actual name for this sort of writing, if not then I invented a new style; I suppose)

He left the room a hallowed soul, dignified by the evil within him. Some say evil is not sacred, but I say judge not yet ye be judged. Surrounded by greed and satisfaction, he lurched over the unwilling townsmen, caressing the long and tattered crimson-black hair that cascaded from t...