I breathed in the night, as it entered my skin, my blood, it felt like I was holding unto an electric fence. I rode the waves,  letting them fill me to over flowing.

Then came the heat that warmed my body, causing it to tingle, filling me with wild erotic fantasies.  I reached out with need searching the dark.

I felt the strange one, not him, for some reason  as usual when my powers touched his, mine trembled.

Why he chose to come to me, I did not know. I couldn't read him, so he made me fear.

I hurried through the streets trying to put distance between him and I. He stayed with me even though I was moving faster then the human eye could detect.

I had to feed, it had been weeks. I had forced my hunger to a high pitch, that sang in my blood.

There a young man in the shadows, I did a quick read. I shook my head. It wouldn’t be him, not an innocent.

The night might own me, but it could never control me. I chose, what I did with who I am.

I ducked into Club Dance. I stood watching the girls move upon stage for a moment. It wouldn’t be one of them either, not that I’d never fed  on another female.

The man at the bar had the night rolling off him like a rich dark fog. I read him. He would be the one. This abuser of women. 

I walked over letting the hood fall from around  my face. Huskily I ask, “Buy a girl a drink?’

He was very handsome with rich dark hair and blue angel eyes.  A man a father would entrust his daughter to. 

The package hid the rot just like a red apple can look so pretty but be rotten at the core, this man was rotten at the soul.

We made light conversation, the kind that means nothing. The hunger was riding me so bad, I was thinking about taking him into an alley somewhere.

He looked at me and said, “Lets take our drinks upstairs, I have a room up there.”

We moved as one, up the dark dirty stairs to the dinky lifeless room.

In behind the door he begin to kiss me almost angrily. Tearing at my cloak, I moved away, pretending modesty. I still wore the blood covered gown.

He sneered, “Come to me .” When I stepped closer, he slapped me across the face.

I felt anger mix with the hunger.

I growled, “To Hell with foreplay.”

I reached out thrusting myself into his mind. It was like walking in a sewer.

He’d raped killed and not just women but  young kids as well.

Usually I feel some compassion for the person I feed on, but I felt nothing for this man.

I didn’t want to actually have sex with him so I tricked his mind into all kind of sorted thoughts, feeding off his lust.

For the first time when I pumped him dry of ever sexual emotion he had, I felt unclean. Coldly I took my well honed  knife and cut his throat, but felt no pleasure in it.

I felt the stranger watching.

As always he never seemed shocked or sickened by what I do. He just felt like he was interested.  Just for a second I looked back into winter gray eyes.

When I walked away from the club, I somehow felt like I’d been cleansed.