“You are not the first person to find this place, though it is fitting for you to be the next one to find it. Tell me, have you reached the part in ...y husband’s journal where he met me?”I shook my head in a negative response, which got a short laugh from her. She gestured for me to sit down, and I numbly did so, while she did the same. “There is still a bit for you to learn, but the next chapter of the journal will give you a few answers to some questions that are burning in your mind. I do. Both of us wanted to taste the young black pussies displayed to us daily.One afternoon, after taking a baby boy back to the nursery, as I returned with warm water to bathe his mother, I noticed she was not her usual self but appeared to be in discomfort. Her breasts were large and her nipples were discharging thick white milk.“What is wrong? You look like you are in pain.”“My baby usually drains my breasts but I am now producing too much milk, my breasts really hurt.”The amount of milk seeping. Your brethren curse and breathe fire and break stone as they leap through the gaping vortex, and you hiss your excitement as you stretch your wings to join them. You land on a rooftop in a nondescript neighbourhood in an unidentifiable large city after what feels like hours of floating through nothingness. You could see the high-rise apartments surrounding you, smell the stink of mortals and the sweet promise of their blood, but you remind yourself that you have come for one purpose:. It was a photograph of a brown-eyed girl, a big toothy grin on her sun-freckled face. She had chestnut-colored brown eyes, and a big purple unicorn was painted on her right cheek. ‘Listen man…’ his captive started, but the man in black held a hand up, the palm open. ‘Stop’ the gesture said. ‘You know, life is ironic.’ The man in black said, his voice gruff and a bit strained. ‘And death is, too. That girl was crazy about horses. She had all kinds of horse posters and stickers everywhere in.