Updates July 13, 2019 to add links to the original posts.
Date: February 1
He handed her the leather book. It was in shambles, written in faded, funny letters.
“Can you read it?”
She huffed. “Just because it’s a witch’s diary from 15th century London doesn’t mean I can’t read it. American covens originated from Europe!”
Date: February 2
“So how did they kill werewolves before silver bullets? Bow and arrow?”
She snorted. “That’s why werewolves were a bigger problem, especially before humans could smelt silver. Trial and error for primitive weapons. It’s how they learned stakes worked against vampires.”
Date: February 4
“You want to convict a man backed by lawyers with centuries of experience protecting supernaturals from human laws? Kid, you haven’t got a chance.”
“What options do I have?”
“You have slightly better chances killing him.”
Date: February 5
“You mean someone chose this hell deliberately?”
He backpedaled, “I didn’t realize–“
“My mother was dead, and he was my only family. What other choice did I have?”
“It isn’t choosing if you felt it was the only option.”
Date: February 6
“Can you find vampires in the desert?”
“A few miserable ones. Too hot and too much sunlight to avoid.”
“So I would be safer there.”
“The desert has its own thriving supernatural community. You aren’t safe anywhere.”
Date: February 9
Between the borrowed wide-brim hat, sunglasses, scarf, and gloves, he probably looked like some rando as he left the bar just before first light. He walked faster, more worried about being seen than what happened to him when the sunlight touched his skin.
Date: February 14
They wait for eventide, when the sun isn’t as torturous and the moon rules the sky. That’s when they hunt. They drink to forget, though no vice can satisfy any longer. Only one addiction drives them.
You don’t have to become them–you can fight it. Resist.
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