Taste for Blood, or Taste for Death

Prologue
He was standing over the shelve on top of the fire place, looking through his box of memorabilia of souvenirs you could call them. Some of jewelry, twigs leaves, bones, body parts and other little odd and end.. The fire place roared and crackled with a newly fading fire. He smiles and talks softly to [...] http://bit.ly/OChtM