Nosferatu Stories

The first crack of thunder was not a rumble, but an explosion that shook the window panes. Mina sat bolt upright, clutching the blanket to her neck as a flash bleached the room of colour. A second, deeper blast followed, and then the rain began, not as water, but as something solid, like gravel hurled against the glass. Mina sank into her pillows. Here, in the Westenra house, she was warm and safe, shielded from the viole...