The festivities were cut short, guests scattered as screams filled the air. Sounds of the living and the dead mixed while confusion misted over the warm summer night. While people fled the beach, the groom held his new bride fast to his side quietly. She squeezed his arm slightly, looked once at him and then back at the growing army of slow movers, looking over the driftwood for a possible weapon. Before she could move, he pulled a gun out- from who knows where- and calmly regarded the approaching enemy. His blood pumping, eyes burning, he felt a wild stab of excitement which he pushed deep down to concentrate on his prey. His deadly eyes cooled down, blank faced...the moon mirrored him.
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