The man stood under the moonlight, hands clasped behind his back. The screams of the woman pierced through his ears, and he shut his eyes, tuning the screams out.
It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He heard footsteps behind him and turned, the smell of blood filling the air. His gaze fell on the woman walking towards him, blood splattered across her clothes.
She stopped in front of him and bowed. "Leader."
The man nodded, his gaze shifting to the locked door where he could see the shadows of two men cleaning the room. He turned to look at the woman.
"How is the turning going?" He asked.
The woman shook her head, stepping next to him, watching to take in the moonlight too. "Fifty-fifty. It's too unstable. Some are too weak to handle it, and they end up dying anyway," she replied.
The man cursed under his breath, his hands tightening into a fist. "We are running out of bodies and time."
