Keefe looked around him and decided that the noise was too much. Panic was good, but the screaming was over the top. He had forgotten about it and made a mental note to wear earplugs next time.
The panic and fear coming off these people would be enough to sustain him for months. This was, by far, the most efficient method of feeding he had tried. Sure, he could scare individuals easily enough, but the fear of a single soul was exhausted after only a few hours.
He breathed deeply, arms outstretched and tried to ignore the woman sitting next to him, clutching a small boy and crying. At least she wasn’t screaming.
He would survive this, he knew. This was not the first time he had done this. It was still an unpleasant sensation, no matter how swift the final act was, but the payoff was huge and worth the inconvenience.
Glancing over the woman and child, he could see that the ground now took up almost all of the view out of the tiny window. What remained of the wing was still on fire, a trail of smoking debris following their descent.
It would all be over too soon and Keefe savoured every last drop of fear that he could. He could make out individual people on the ground now; they were looking and pointing.
Gritting his teeth, he braced for the final impact.