The next excerpt is from the second short story of my book 'Blessings of Death'.
It's titled 'Vampyro'.
'The dying soldier lay in agony. Blood pouring from his wounded abdomen. The battle had been well fought by both sanctions, and although our man had done more than good in the heat of battle, one of the Turks was quick to fire a crossbow. As the serfs of the Turks carried away the rest of the dying, they ignored the plight of this mortally wounded man.
Soon he was alone. He knew the cold touch of death would be upon him in moments. "Do you wish to live?" A strange voice came from behind the shadows. The soldier was bewildered. Was this real? "Yes or no!" The soldier, gargling on his own blood, made a sound that fairly resembled 'yes'. "By all means then, do so!" A pale white hand reached from the darkness and pulled the arrow from his quivering body. At once the soldier screamed and passed out into a sleep like trance.
Inside his mind he could envision horrid eyes staring from a midnight background. He could hear child-like voices chanting a word in a repeating rhythm. 'Manifesto! Manifesto!' and a demonic howl. A cry of hate. Many times he would awake to feel severe pains in his body. It seemed as if he was dead, but of course he wasn't. He was beyond. He was far beyond....'