Unfortunately, the simulacrum had no animating intelligence. There was no widening of the eyes. No shocked expression. No cries of pain or f ear as Dr...k’s claws bit into his throat and tore with a savage twist. Drak panted, softly, looking down at the crackling, geometric patterns that his claws had torn into the blue-white shape under him.It was never satisfying enough.-Kill him. Feel his blood on your claws-The thought pinged into Drak’s head without actually forming in his own mind. A cold,. * * * * *Three houses down on Kenwood Lane from the Carters, the cute teenager had already dozed pleasantly off on the two-seater sofa in her bedroom, her long legs curled up underneath her. She had meant to take a nice hot bath before retiring, but she had gotten so caught up in her third re-reading of Jane Austen's Wuthering Heights -- which she thought was the most romantic novel ever written, next to Little Women, that she had quite dozed off. This was not so uncommon; she frequently. More

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