The Breed

Tara knelt before the alter, the rosary wrapped between her fingers. She gazed upon the cross. The image of the man hanging upon it a legend, a myth but deeply rooted in her soul.

The Priest regarded her, not quite sure what to make of her. He waited patiently for her to answer.

"Then what are you, exactly?" he crept closer to her still kneeling form. Although he didn't feel threatened by her, he was a cautious man by nature.

"I am their worst nightmare."