The Witch of Lompydonk’s dreams

‘The day is my enemy,

The night my friend.’

Black fingernails gripped Lompydonk Farncastle’s shoulder as the woman leaned in close.

‘Wake up!’, she hissed.

The bus was pulling up outside Grogans Pub as Lompydonk woke.

A flash of recognition struck when he sat facing his date.

Black fingernails scraped across her throat, tearing her neck apart.

Her insides twitched and hissed.

Lompydonk smiled.

‘I can see we have a lot in common’, he said.