He read the texts and the prophecy. “That has to be the dumbest thing I have ever heard of,” he laughed.
The woman sitting across from him gave a dirty look. He shook his head and closed the book.
“Blood moon, seriously? Sounds a bad 50’s horror movie,” he thought, the grin not fading. The book lay open on the table as he headed to the door. He stepped into the warm night air and walked towards his car. The light around him seemed, somehow, not right. Moths fluttered around the incandescent lights, nothing strange about the artificial gold beams that emitted from them. He heard someone call out down the street; the sound made him jump. “I’m reading too much of these old prophecies,” he said.
In the east, the glow of the full moon began to crest over the trees. “Is there haze in the air tonight?” He looked around him. There was a taint about everything as though a layer of grease covered the world. He ran his fingers across the roof of his car. A dark brownish substance covered his fingers. He did not want to wipe, whatever it was, on his pants leg so he bent over and rubbed his fingers on the concrete; more of it collected on his fingers. A shuffling sound came from behind him, he turned in time to be grabbed by dead hands that ripped through his flesh. The moon made its way over the tree tops a bright crimson.
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