Note: Here we go. Stay with me!

"Run, Brigid! Go, go, go!" Erin yelled pushing Brigid in front of her as they both ran through the neighborhood park towards their home. Erin knew they wouldn't make it but if she could do a fake-out and attack the guy then Brigid might make it in time to wake the neighbors for help. Erin looked behind her but didn't see anyone. Suddenly there was a loud rustling in the trees above them, the crack of limbs breaking, as a man landed in front of them. Brigid and Erin skidded to a halt as Brigid let out a choked scream. Erin spun Brigid around behind her. Two months had passed since the freak show and a walk through the park had seemed like a good idea until Erin had a very hard flash too late.

"Go!" She yelled. Brigid hesitated but knew if she didn't there would be absolutely no chance of help arriving. Brigid ran as Erin faced-off with the one who had been following them this whole time. She grabbed a cracked branch and with a yell brought to the side of the man's head with a sharp crack. It did nothing. The branch had cracked in half and didn't so much as make the man's head turn from the impact. He laughed and advanced slowly. Erin spun on her heel and tried to start running again but in the blink of an eye the man was standing not even two inches in front of her. Erin screamed and instinctively reared her right arm back ready to punch the creature but he moved so quickly you couldn't even see the movement from one second to the other. His hand was suddenly holding her left fist and she heard her wrist crack as he slowly forced her hand back. He continued to move it, smiling the whole time, making Erin cry in intense pain. She looked at the man through her tears and knew it wasn't a man. Creature. Purple skin. Red hair. Red eyes. A sick madness behind those abnormal eyes. This was the purple Brigid had seen.

"You know you're quite a spritely thing, aren't you?" The creature released her. She fell to the ground cradling her left arm to her chest grimacing through her tears, her mouth open but incapable of a scream. He grinned, his teeth yellowed with age, and knelt beside her.

"This, love, is not generally how we do things but you had to go and muck up centuries of rituals. But lucky you, yes indeed, lucky for you that I have my own personal rituals. I like this town and I'm going to perform as many ritutals as I want. I'm going to try them out first on you. You're quite a catch. I'm rather pleased you have been offered to me from the gods. Perhaps when I drain you dry I'll get a touch of those abilities in your tiny head! Then I'll get your sister's abilities. Yes, I'll be quite the little god then and able to do ritual after ritual after ritual in this town and the next and the next and the next." The creature giggled like a greedy child.

Erin gasped out in broken sentences. "You won't...get to. The police will come..."

The creature tilted his head as if having pity on her. "We both know that won't happen, love. But two drained bodies in one night will give the papers something to talk about."

Erin screamed trying to kick him. "You leave my sister alone! You leave her alone-guk-gk." The creatures hand had her by the neck as he pulled her face closer to his. A psychotic glint passed through his eyes.

"No." He whispered.

Erin tried to wiggle free, crying, and slowly feeling her vision go hazy. The creature threw her over his shoulder and felt pain in her arm but she couldn't focus. Finding a spot well off the beaten path of the park near a large culvert Erin was tossed to the ground like a lump of meat. She started to try and crawl away but this only caused amusement to the creature and with a single foot rolled her over onto her back.

"Okay, lovely, here we go. Watch carefully." The man punctured a hole into his wrist until there was a tiny bead of blood. He pulled out tiny bottles and jars that had been hidden in the hidden culvert. He was muttering to himself as he made a green mud paste mixing his own blood with it. He began humming as he tilted his head back with his eyes closed as he marked a cross and circle on his forehead continuing the line down the bridge of his nose over his lips and under his chin. He opened his eyes and muttered something as he continued to hum. He then took the paste and holding her head in a vice grip marked her forehead with a single thumbprint then made smears from under eyes down her cheeks to her jaw like how tears fall down your face. He ran his finger over her lips and grew silent.

He hid his jars once more and licked the wound on his wrist which caused it to heal instantly with barely a trace. Erin couldn't move. She didn't know why. All she could do was look up into the stars her eyes going in-and-out of focus like she was under a spell. She felt her right arm lifted and a deep cut in the shape of an X on her wrist. She gave a muffled cry as she felt his mouth close over the wound and the sensation of suction began. She felt gulp after gulp after gulp of her blood being sucked out of her. Her vision blurred, she felt cold, she knew she was going to die. She tried to project flashes praying they would be felt by her sister or anyone with the mental capacity to give a warning of something, anything that had to do with this creature.

There was a loud whoosh of wind and suddenly her wrist was bare against the cool night breeze. She tried to lift it but couldn't. Her ears were ringing but she heard loud muffling sounds. Suddenly there was a frustrated cry and she heard a voice bellow. "SHE WILL BECOME ME! SHE IS MY RIGHT FROM THE GODS!" Then nothing. Silence. Crunching grass near her head. A red blurred figure stood over her and lifted her wrist to his mouth. Yes. Death for sure now. But there was no sucking sound, only the feel of a rough tongue licking the wound. Once the mouth was removed she could slightly sense that there was no longer a feeling of bleeding. She tried to lift her wrist to look but couldn't move. She tried to speak but couldn't. She was entirely at the mercy of this red thing above her. Slowly she felt her body lifted from the ground and movement through the now chilled breeze. The last thing she remembered was a wet cloth rubbing her face and a cold, rough hand smoothing back her hair.