A totally sensible phrase

_Damn_, he thought, flying home. _That can't be true_.

The fires disagreed. Sweeping low, he could sense lifeless figures shambling aimlessly in the ruins.

_That old senile lizard is just having a joke at my expense_.

A faint glow on the horizon signaled he was almost out of time. Annoyed, flapping harder, barely avoiding a pointless and fiery demise.

Inside the evercool of the stone fortress, he was able to relax, shedding the leathery wings and ridiculous smallness for a more comfortable aristocratic demeanor.

_Is it possible? Did that maniac's plan really succeed?_ He cursed himself for not taking it seriously.

Down to the crypt now, waving off the moldering sycophants. _I'll envy them soon. How depressing_.

Mahogany doors swung open; he stormed inside. Ignoring the red opulence, uncomfortable warmth.

The woman in white just stared up at him, the teacup at her lips forgotten.

_Count's fangs, this is pathetic_.

"You're... the last one" he hissed. If he could restrain himself, they both might live.