The smell of the battlefield was brought up from memory. It was the smell of blood and decaying bodies. There was no such thing as the smell of victor... and defeat, they both were foul to the senses and he could not discern the real difference between them. In the end, it had always smelled sweetly sick and coppery. Like a feast gone horrible wrong; a feast for Gods that hunger for life. He smirked then, at the unbidden thoughts that had reminded him of bad poetry and idle philosophers trying to. Shewas kinda cute, a bit of a big girl, but still quite cute. I wondered ifshe'd look good as a vamped up witch. I've always had a thing for biggirls. I also wondered how I'd look as a vamped up witch, or even in herplain witch costume. As a long-time cross dresser, I always wonderedabout those sorts of things. Halloween was a favorite time for trannies,but I hadn't had the courage to go out dressed yet."I'm Tom, I'm here to see Brad," I replied."Oh," she said, "I'll let him know."She headed. More

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