The Unholy Smile — Gregory Douglas

The blood-red sun setting on the horizon only added to the evil and gloom that surrounded Gomay Island. The silent, mindless monks who crept stealthily along the dark winding paths were mere creatures of doom waiting for the ceremony to begin.

They knew who the next victim would be: She was young and beautiful, pure, and as yet, untouched. They would siphon her blood, gorge on her flesh -- but only when the moon was full, only after the sacrifice had been made, only after the devils work was done.

And she would writhe on the altar, screaming out in horror and pain. But no one could save her. There was no escape -- for she'd already succumbed to THE UNHOLY SMILE