At0micAndy

Day One A New Death Dawns The mole didn’t notice the nick in its skin as it burrowed through the graveyard or the drop of blood that it left on an ancient bone long buried beneath a slab of stone, a stone worn faceless and smooth by centuries of wind and rain, a stone no longer indented with the name of the occupant of the grave. The mole just kept burrowing as it searched for food beneath the soil of the unkempt Gloucestershire graveyard. A hunger, at first all it felt was hunger, a deep longing for food for sustenance, a hunger, a longing that comes after hundreds of years of abstinence of starvation. A craving so uncontrollable that nothing could have held it back from a hunt for food, nothing would stop it feeding, nothing as trivial as a few feet of earth and a slab of stone as it rose to the surface and stood under a black moonless night and sniffed the air, a scent brought a snarl and quicker than the eye could see it was gone, prey to catch, food to be taken, strength to ...