I Woke Up Dead on a Wednesday
Sure, I have my bad nights that result in the worst hangovers every now and then, but I usually don’t wake up dead. So when that happened on Wednesday, which let’s be honest is arguably the best day for that, I felt a very strong pull toward Newstead Abbey.
Call it a calling. Call it bloodlust. Either way, we gathered.
What followed can only be described as a full bat infestation. We drifted across the ruins, glided over tombstones, and lured in the occasional unsuspecting mortal. What we fed on wasn’t just blood, but something closer to lust, shared and amplified until it blurred into something ritualistic.
The spell that held it all together was cast by DJ Lili, who moved through the night like a Coven Mistress unwilling to release us. Track by track, she stripped away whatever was left of restraint, until humanity became optional and surrender felt inevitable. The Embrace wasn’t a moment, it was a slow unraveling.
The Hunger grew. Subtle at first, then impossible to ignore. And somewhere in that shift, we just stopped pretending we were separate. We fed on each other, on the atmosphere, on the night itself, while Hera lingered at the edges, watching as something like a Blood Bond settled into place, anchoring the entire scene into memory.
The remains are captured here.
Be warned though, if you look into these eyes for too long, it may not stay a photograph. It becomes a Compulsion.
Click them for a larger resolution and save.
This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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