It’s hard when your dead, to feel alive. We will randomly choose a new wayward town and try to find a new way to make it all fresh again. It never does though, you always just end up doing what you did before: stalk, kill, eat.
This one town Hammond found, Charlesville I think, had the most beautiful family of four. We watched them for three weeks, stunned by their complete happiness. It’s not like I’d never been that happy, and Hammond was generally smiling, but for three weeks this family enjoyed the best last days of their lives. When we went inside, we both felt a reverence for them and quality of life. Their blood was the sweetest I’d tasted, but it wasn’t life.
We never spoke about that, or about when Hammond shut the door on me in Summerwood when he went into the nursery. It was just the way it was with us. Eternity be damned, the same communication problems happened dead or alive. Neither of us broke the barriers of our current friendship, if you could call it that. I’d call it death.