“You think we’re bad, little blood bag? You should meet the ones of us who are really hungry – out there beyond that shiny fence which keeps you all so safe and sound, the rotters hunt the shadows, desperate for a taste of a pretty little thing like you. You think feeling the sting of my fangs would be bad? They’d rip the skin from your bones and listen to you scream while they feasted until there was nothing but a husk left in place of all you’d ever been.”
