Night Falls

I was dead. No I was dying. My last memory were the blinding headlights of a lorry. I told myself if only I'd listened if only I'd stayed. But it was too late. The night had won. The fight was over. That's not the beginning. Far from it my story began in a small town up North in Lancashire a tiny place called South Hill. A place where I was just a seventeen-year-old and the words vampire werewolf and witch were creations of fiction.