Edward knew the basics. Sacrifice the DSLR's resolution for an iPhone's secrecy. Intersperse the cleavage and thighs on your photoroll with plausibly deniable images. Don't dawdle: Shoot 'em and get out.
Somehow situational awareness never quite made the list.
He'd followed a C-cup blonde to the food court when a wave of otherness hit him --
slimeskin sourstink fleshrot
-- and there, a pudgy, lank-haired brunette staring. He smiled tentatively.
She returned it, revealing finger-long teeth in a black maw.
The iPhone splintered on the tile. Edward only glanced at it, but when he looked up, there was no one in sight.
Creeper by I Saw Lightning Fall
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