Stolen Blood

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A soft breeze ruffled the lush leaves, making them wave goodbye to the setting sun. Fuila sat on her porch in the shadow of her red cottage, relieved to see it go. 

With a gust of wind came a buzzing mosquito. It struggled to keep a steady course towards her forearm. Interested, she watched as it sat down and stung her. Slowly it swelled and turned dark red. A wicked smile crept upon her lips when it flew off. 

It didn't get far. Barely a meter away it lost hight. Moments later it lay motionless on the porch. 

Sucker.

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