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...of his lips and biting hard.  He pulls away tearing chunks of flesh with him. 

"Is this how you like to get up close and personal with the guys John!"  He spits out the fleshy lump and wipes the back of his hand across his own lips, smearing fresh blood across his face.

Barely able to speak through his ruined mouth John cires out and lunges at Mark.  The two crash to the ground in a pile of flailing limbs, blood and spit.  John punches Mark in the face as hard as he can over and over again until he stops trying to to fight back.

Sitting back on his haunches he draws in a shakey and ragged breath.  Staring at his friend as he lies there.  A dangerous animal that he is not quite sure has been subdued.

The seconds tick by and the world continues to move along out on the street near by.

John is still sitting on his haunches, blood still running down his chin and dripping onto the floor.

It starts to rain.

And The Rain Tastes Like Bloodmature

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