Roaming around the city were the once fair citizens of Plagas. Something had happened to them though, they were fair no more. As they walked around and moaned and groaned, they had smelt the girl's perfume and flesh. She smelt fresh, something that many of the Plagas could not say if they could speak. She was in the church, they knew that, but getting to her was matter at hand. How were they going to. One of them started to pound on the heavy church door. The pounding sound grew louder and louder in each passing minute. For now, these Plagas were not hungry, they wanted something else. They wanted the girl's body. The pounding grew louder still, but unlucky for Miss Graham, there was already a Plagas in the church.
Once the minister of the church to the good people of Plagas, the man stumbled out of the shadows, still adorned in his minister gear. There was a steady stream of blood flowing from his mouth. Even God could not save him from this fate. With a roar, the thing charged her, with something besides feeding on his mind. As quickly as he had appeared, he had pinned her hands to the ground with his own, and was staring her down. The pounding seemed to stop as the minister snarled. This was not good for Miss. Graham. . .