Soul Drinker: Vampire of Vampires

No need to be stealthy, they knew I was here, without even the lightest rustle of my clothes, or the smallest exhale of breath. I let my aura reach out and surround their souls, alerting them of the danger. They can feel the presence that makes terror grip their hearts, such a unfamiliar feeling to their kind, that they simply don't know how to do anything but panic, some of them even start to flee.
I let out a hollow chuckle as I step from the shadows. Those that had began to flee, stop, and turn to appraise me, confused eyes meet mine and turn away so quickly, a human would not have even seen it. It seems I do not look like what they were expecting to see, not that they know what to expect, nevertheless, I hear a few nervous laughs as they regroup.
I keep my aura up as their leader starts to take a few hesitant steps toward me, but stops when a he sees something in my face, which causes him to lose his nerves. I take him in, languidly, a tiger appraising it's hunt. He appears to have been around 20 when he died. He's also very lean, so much so, that he must have been starving when it had happened. Though the change itself always tones the body to perfection, you can still make out many of his bones through his slightly translucent skin. He can't be very old, his stance is that of the very young, very inexperienced vampire, and his steps, despite obvious efforts, are easily caught by my experienced ears. His eyes are what catch me off guard, they aren't the deep blood or onyx of the weak, modern day vampire, but a brilliantly striking shade of jade. My eyes are a kaleidoscope of colors, constantly shifting from one color to the next, while still being subtle enough to not alert people that the change is happening at all. Very few people even take note of this, but he stares directly into them, unwavering, long enough to witness the change. Something in his consonance changes and he seems to get braver and more nervous at the same moment. It had been a long time since anything had interested me and I have to fight the urge to lick my lips, I'm eager for a taste of his soul.

"What're you doing in our city, brother?" he asks, still chancing quick glances into my eyes, perhaps seeing a new change each time?

I say nothing. His voice betrays the fear and nervousness I already knew was there, but also adds a tinge of...something else, as if he wanted to ask me something entirely different.

"Surely, you must know the rules...? It's stupid to enter a coven's hunting grounds without permission or-"

I tire of the idle chat, too impatient to know what question he wanted answered to listen any longer then was necessary. His words are cut off when I intensify my aura and all the other vampires gasp as their minds suddenly bear the intense weight. "I believe you are all at a misunderstanding," I say as civilly as I can, "I understand the rules," I emphasize, and continue. "The real question is: Do you understand the rules? Do your Mothers and Fathers of the night no longer teach you the ways of things? Do they not warn you of the price to pay for the unabolished murder of innocent humans?" I sigh and shake my finger in the leaders face. "This place...you...monsters, are stained so much, it's simply...as hungry as I am...irresistible and revolting all at once." I release my aura completely, and they all fall to their knees, unable to stand in the intense atmosphere. I walk up to the now helpless leader and begin to slowly circle around him, a shark closing in on its prey. "It makes the hunt so boring. It's far to easy to follow a trail of blood you don't even try to hide."

"W-what the f-fuck are you?!" He stutters, clearly more afraid then he's ever been in his existence.

I cringe inwardly at the vulgarity of the words before responding, "Poor choice of last words," my grin fades away as I let the lust over the long anticipated meal take over my emotions, "But, I'll humor them. I'm not entirely sure what to call myself," I whisper, "The first and last of my kind." I fall to my knees behind him. "The hunter of hunters." I wrap my arms around him to keep him from moving. "The protector of mankind." I lean in to whisper the last words in his ear, "The vampire of vampires." I move my mouth down to his throat and nuzzle his neck, and he shivers in fear as I breathe deep to take in his scent. There's definitely something interesting about this one, I could still feel his fear, but he was also confused and, strangely enough, aroused. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to pull away or press himself closer, interesting. I didn't give him time to decide before sinking my fangs into his jugular. He screamed in pain and his body spasmed under me before the paralysis set in. I could distantly hear the others screaming in fear and disgust before sinking down into his world.

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We face each other in our minds, everything's quiet and dark.

"Why are you doing this?" He asks me.

"It's really too bad you didn't become a better vampire, the very fact that you interested me might have saved you, if it were not for your sins."

"You...remind me of someone..." He tells me.

"It won't matter, I'm draining you and I'm far too hungry to slow myself down, you'll be dead in a few moments. I want you to give up your mind to me, long after you and your friends are gone, I want to know your reasons. You're different than my normal prey, and that alone is why we are here now. Otherwise, I would have simply killed you, your mind spilling out as thin and fleeting as your blood on my tongue. If you refuse, there will be no chance of anyone knowing who you were."

He considers it for a moment, "Alright then..."

His eyes close and he let's go of everything. I become him, reliving every moment of his life.

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My name is Richard Fenleaf. I've been the leader of this coven for about twelve years, the gang and I love the blood baths we arrange frequently, often killing thirty or more people to the six members in our coven. Innocents always taste better, they always scream louder and satisfy me more than any other, the more pure, the harder I'll work to hunt them down. We usually never do it simply out of hunger, but more often for the sport of it, or whenever we're bored. I especially love ripping out the throats of rich young women and watching as the life slowly drains out of them while they plea for me to stop, for the others to help them, then towards the end, pray for help from a god I know doesn't exist, I always tell them, but they never listen.


If there was a God, he would have never allowed my life to be...to end up the way it did.


When I was young my father always drank, beer not blood, though sometimes he seemed to relish it just as much when he caused mine to spill. My mother was gone a lot and every time she came back she looked different. Sometimes it was her hair, sometimes her eyes, and sometimes she looked so different I had to ask, but she never remembered me, and she always spent the night with dad and was gone in the morning.
I never did go to school, whenever I asked dad why, he would beat me and tell me it was pointless for someone as stupid and worthless as me to even think about going to no school. I believed him until I got older, though, inside I still believed it, outside I fought against my worthlessness and self loathing.
I was always on the streets, basically homeless, wandering around until I got so sick I had to go back. Whenever I did, dad always beat me until I was almost dead and I would lie in the same spot until I could move well enough to leave, or until hunger made me drag my broken body away. I secretly wished dad would hurt me bad enough to kill me, I would think of suicide all the time, but was to big of a coward to ever go through with it. By some stroke of sheer luck on his part, dad always managed to stop just in time.
I started doing drugs and in the haze and murk in between finding more, and the bliss of the fix, I moved far enough away I couldn't find my way back home again. I'm still not sure where I lived, just that it was a large city and the back allies were filthy and filled with people that lived just like I did. I never made any friends, the others and I were nothing to each other but competition for food and sleeping space.
One night I passed out somewhere in the streets after not finding anything to eat for several days. When I woke up I had been cleaned and was laying, completely naked, in the softest bed I'd ever slept in, there was a needle in my arm and it was attached to an IV. I was afraid and ripped it out painfully as I tried to run, but when I stood up, I immediately fell onto the floor, blood seeping out of the tear I had made, quickly draining my strength. A nurse came in, picked me up and put me back into the bed, easily patching up the damage I had done to myself, I tried to protest, but either my words were unintelligible, or she ignored me, as she focused on the task at hand. When she seemed satisfied, she scolded me and told me to stay in bed and that I had been picked up off the streets, damn near dead, and that a very kind man had payed to have me treated. She gave me a shot, left and everything went black again.


When I woke up I felt better than I had in a long time, I was in a different place in a bed ten times nicer than the last, I felt uncomfortable sleeping on something so different then the ground I was used to. The sheets were white silk and the room was so well heated that the sheets were all that was needed on the bed. The only light on in the room was a lamp in the corner where a man was looking out the window. He looked to be in his 30's, but his hair had tinges of grey as if he had dealt with a lot of stress in his life, his face still looked a lot younger than it should have. I vaguely wondered if he had used that plastic surgery I had heard a bit about. He was wearing a solid white suit that must have been very hot with the temperature of this room. I remember chiding him in my mind for being so stupid to actually pay so much to be so uncomfortable. I could see a glimpse of stars through the glass in the window, which meant I wasn't in the city anymore.

When I started to stir, he turned around.

"You look like you've been to Hell and back," he said with a smile, "but at least you don't look like you're about to fall over dead anymore."

I mumbled a reply and struggled to get out of the bed before realizing I was still naked. "Where my clothes?" I asked him, but my voice was so faint from disuse, that I doubted he could even hear me.

He surprised me by answering before I had the chance to repeat the question, "Your old clothes were so filthy and tattered I'm afraid I had to have them thrown out." He walked up to a dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out clothes that looked much too fancy to be comfortable."I hope you don't mind." Then he walked up to the bed and set them down, I cringed and gathered up as much of the covers as I could to cover myself. He chuckled and spoke again, "Your scared of me? After the things it looks like you've been through?" His eyes became serious, "You had multiple fractures and broken ribs, most which were from many years ago, and were never set and healed properly." He frowned, concern deepening his features, and looked into my eyes, which I didn't advert, like I normally would have. They were a vibrant shade of green and there was something captivating, and a little strange, deep in his pupils, it made me relax my deathgrip on the covers. "They had to break and reset most of them, as well as feed you by IV for weeks, you were more than half-starved and you slept through it all as if you had never slept a day in your life, the only time you woke up was right after you were admitted into the hospital, they told me you were so terrified that you ended up hurting yourself, and they had to sedate you." He looked deeper into my eyes with understanding, "You were so bad off they thought you weren't going to make it for a few days, but you pulled through."

He stopped talking and looked away, breaking the contact, I made a little noise at the loss.

"It's all over though, you don't need to be scared, and don't worry about paying me back. If there's one thing I have, it's money." He said in a voice I knew I could trust. I dropped the sheets, "You can stay here as long as you like." He looked back at me and I sighed a little in relief when his eyes met mine again. I leaned forward a little to study them better. "Well, the clothes are right here, I'll leave so you can get dressed comfortably."

He turned to leave and before I knew what was happening, I had grabbed a hold of his wrist and pleaded for him not to go. I didn't want to lose his eyes. I was a little stunned when I barely felt his hand, and had to check and make sure I didn't miss, but when I saw that I had it, my eyes quickly found his again. I didn't think much of it at the time. I threw it aside with the excuse that I hadn't had human contact in so long that I'd forgotten what it was like.

He didn't seem surprised and looked amused again, "Do you need help?" I shook my head. "Are you afraid to be alone again? Or that you'll wake up and be back where you were before?"

I thought about it for a second and lied, "That's it, how do I know I won't?" All I knew was that I didn't want those eyes gone, that I was afraid I'd never see them again.

He sat down on the bed facing me. "You just need to trust me, can you do that?" He asked.

He broke contact after, and his gaze moved down, my eyes followed his and I realized I'd dropped the sheets, at the same time I also realized his eyes were giving me a hard on. Instead of getting embarrassed and covering up like I normally would have, I answered his question. "I can trust you." I whispered.

His eyes left my growing erection and met mine again. This time with a much stronger force behind them that made me gasp and harden further. His voice was hypnotic. "You're beautiful, did you know that? That's one reason I couldn't leave you there in that street." He leaned closer, his breath mingling with my own, Deep in my mind I was revolted, but I could taste something so sweet in his breath I couldn't help but want more. "Even through all your sickness, and the dirt caked in your hair and on your skin and clothes, I saw it, and I wanted it. To tell you the truth, I would have left anyone else laying there, but you caught me in your snare."

His words sent a thrill down my spine that fueled my growing passion even more. I started to drown in his eyes and their pull made made me close the gap as I slammed my lips to his, eager for a taste of that tantalizing sweetness, that honey, the sweet taste that would lead me to my doom. To the beginning of the end.

I gasped when I could taste it on his lips and my tongue darted out and tried to force its way into his mouth, but it opened to let it in without a struggle. I could feel him smiling and again the revulsion hit, I wanted to pull away and vomit, but my eyes were still locked to his and I could taste the sweetness in his mouth, it was too much to resist and I let my tongue lap at his, taking in everything that it could. At last, he pressed back and gave me what I wanted. We kissed for what seemed like an eternity and as our tongues twisted, the taste filled up my senses. It's all I could feel, all I could taste, smell, touch, think and all I could see was the green of his eyes! It maddened me until that's all I had ever known and all that I ever would. Until he lightly brushed his hand over my erection and I was forced to break away and gasp for air as a new pleasure slammed into me. I fell backwards onto the bed as he stroked it again and I let out a very drawn moan of pleasure.

"You've never done this before, have you?" he asked.

His eyes were half lidded and I swore he let out a purr as I began to answer, "Nnnnh-nnnnnh," He bent down and licked the tip of my shaft and I screamed out the rest, "Oooooooooo!"

"Good," He said, his cool breath sending a new wave of pleasure up my spine. "Then you are to be mine and mine only." He licked the tip again drawing it out for longer, making me squirm and gasp before he swirled his tongue around and down the length, moving it quickly and sensuously before taking the whole length in his mouth. I moaned again and my back arched as he sent wave after unrelenting wave of pleasure up my spine and through my body. I'd never felt anything this good before. Sweat covered my body making it slick and the sheets clung to my back. The pleasure made the drugs seem like nothing, and the pressure built and built until I felt like I would explode. Then he pulled away. I looked down and started to say something to make him continue, but his eyes caught mine again, and the words died before they could form, instead I whimpered. His eyes were smoldering with lust and something I couldn't place at the time, hunger.

He pulled away and off the bed and I whimpered again, wanting more. I started to crave that sweetness again, wanting to taste him. My erection burned and ached and when I looked down I noticed it was scratched and scraped and little beads of blood were beginning to form, the part of my mind that found this revolting, started feeling afraid as well, knowing that this wasn't normal. I looked back at him, confused, and noticed that he had removed his clothes and was climbing back into the bed towards me, I opened my mouth to ask about the wounds, but his eyes caught mine again and I couldn't think straight. He lapped up the blood, and we both moaned in unison before he pulled himself up, straddling me, I felt his erection rub against mine and I groaned, my back arching again as I pressed up against him. He held two of his fingers to my lips and I looked at him questioning what he wanted me to do.


Seeing my confusion he commanded, his emerald eyes burning into my soul, "Suck them." I complied easily and, much to my pleasure, found the sweetness here as well. It wasn't as strong as the taste of his mouth, but I wanted to please him. I sucked, and found that I enjoyed the subtler taste of it, I took more in and copied the motions he had done. He closed his eyes for the first time, threw his head back, and groaned, I felt his fingers twitch and I sucked harder. After a few moments, he pumped his erection against mine and the friction made me gasp. He used this opportunity to pull out his fingers and without warning, plunged one of them into my ass. I screamed out in pain and swore, but he held me down and kissed me, locking his eyes to mine again. The combination of his eyes, and the suddenly overpowering sweetness, washed away my pain and discomfort immediately. There was also a new taste I couldn't place, and as my mind drifted in the flavor and the ever deepening color of his eyes, I thought about it. I didn't even feel the second finger join the first or when they began to scissor, stretching my virgin entrance for what was to come.
When he was satisfied, his gaze became less intense and he broke the kiss. I hadn't even realized I wasn't breathing until suddenly there was air, and with it came the realization that the other taste was my own blood, again came the fear and the need to get away and retch. It must have shown in my eyes, because he suddenly focused his gaze again and pumped his fingers up deeper inside of me, hitting a spot that made me scream in in utter extacy. My vision flashed white and I begged him for more, he complied, and again and again I felt pleasure so great that it paled to what I had felt before. I never wanted him to stop, and I screamed again and again. In far to short of time he pulled his fingers out and I felt so empty that tears streamed down my face at the loss. He laughed at them and caught them with his fingers and tasted them, wetting his fingers with his tongue, he then rubbed his own erection, wetting it with my tears of pain and his own sweet saliva, keeping his eyes locked on mine so I wouldn't see what he was doing. I continued to cry, until he kissed me again quickly.
"It'll get better." He promised, "You said you would trust me, remember? Or would you rather I stopped." he pulled away mockingly and I threw my arms around his neck to stop him. He suddenly lifted up my legs, positioned them up and around him and violently plunged himself deep inside me. At the same time he groaned and covered my lips with his to muffle the scream of pain that I'm sure would have deafened both of us. The tears came again, the numbing sweetness coming much slower this time. The pain blotted it out well enough, that I knew I was bleeding again, I could feel myself go limp, all pleasure gone, yet all I could do was cry. The revulsion took over and I dry heaved a few times and struggled to get out of his grasp, but he held me, refusing to let go.

He moaned and released my lips as the struggle pleasured him, then commanded in a voice I knew I had to obey, "Open your eyes and look at me, before I have to hurt you further!" I had no choice, I felt my will crumble and move back into the recesses of my mind, my eyes opened to his, my mind fogged again, and he kissed me deeply, until I was lost once again in the pleasure of the sweetness, the deep emerald of his eyes. He once again wove his spell around me. The pain was gone already, and I was filled again, my tears were now ones of joy. The pleasure came back and I hardened quickly again as he slowly started to pump. His moans made my shaft ache and I wanted more.

I pulled my mouth away so I could beg. "Pleeeeeease," I panted, "ffa-" I moaned loudly, interrupting myself, then gasped it out again, "Faaaaaaaaaster!" Before I even finished, his pace increased. His mouth started to nibble and nip it's way down my chin, making it's way slowly down my throat, groaning the entire time, lingering, exploring a little more the further down it got, until it found a spot it was satisfied with and he sunk his fangs. The pain made the pleasure all the better and I barely felt anything else. I kept begging and he kept increasing the pace, until it was no longer a rhythm, just a reckless smacking of body hitting body, over and over again. The pleasure kept building and building and my cries of pleasure became a constant panting moan, until it was too much and I came all over both of us. He came only moments after, and I sighed contentedly as I felt his essence fill me. Exhausted, I fell asleep with his still hard member inside me.

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I woke up not knowing who or what I was. My dreams were filled with whispering voices, blood, pleasure, pain and terror. I felt far too hot and it occurred to me that I must have finally died and gone to Hell. My eyes were too heavy to open, and I became aware that my breathing was coming in short desperate bursts and that my heartbeat was thumping far too fast and far too faintly. It then occurred to me that I was only half dead. My body was wracked with pain and I willed it to die faster. I'd never experienced agony quite like this before. It came with a thirst that burned every cell in my body, as if I had just spent a month wandering in the hottest desert's sun. There was nothing I wanted more than a drink of freezing cold water.
Then suddenly something very cold touched my arm, it shocked me so much that I stopped breathing, I heard another whisper, this one sounded far away, but so familiar. I struggled to make out what it was saying for a while. It kept talking, but I ran out of energy to try to make sense of it, so I just sat and listened to the pleasantly familiar sounds it made. My breath never came back and the pain was beginning to fade as my heart slowed down, finally giving in to the death I had wanted so badly, for so long. The voice sounded louder now, as if it's owner was yelling. I felt my mouth being opened as another cold thing froze my burning lips. I wanted to tell it to let me die, that I would be much happier, but then, it happened.
Despite how hot everything already was, I felt fire in my mouth. Everything else went away and I was filled with electricity, It jolted my heart and I choked on the fire in my mouth. I sputtered as I tried to breathe and swallow the liquid at the same time. I could feel it burning my lungs as it spilled into them, but I didn't care. Air wasn't as important, wasn't as necessary as the fire. My eyes opened, but I couldn't see. It didn't matter, as long as I had this, I didn't need to see. My hands desperately clasped the cold thing at my lips when I realized that the fire was coming from it. My lips moved even more desperately against it as I tried to remember how to suck.
That word sparked something in my memory.

"Suck them." I remembered hearing that not to long ago, I recognized the voice I had heard earlier. It triggered another memory.

There was something else I had wanted before this fire, it was strange and sweet, and when I realized that, I knew that this fire tasted exactly like that sweetness, but multiplied a thousand-fold and that I had only found the sweetness recently and it came with both excruciating pain, and ultimate pleasure.

"Keep going!" I heard the voice clearly now. It still sounded desperate, but I didn't have a name, only a face, and I wouldn't have stopped even if it had asked me to.

My eyes began to see and focus, and feeling began to come back, cooling my burning limbs. I saw only colors and shapes at first, but with every mouthful of the sweetness down my throat, the clearer everything became. I saw the face that went with the voice, it sent a trill down my spine and I moaned, more sweetness spilled into my lungs and this time I couldn't control the coughing. More sweetness poured into my mouth and as I coughed some of it escaped and poured down my chin as well as back down into my lungs, but I refused to let go. His face changed from relief to horror as I started to choke, and he forced me away from his wrist. I cried out in pain at the loss, as I continued to cough out sweetness and it spilled to the floor, as well as the loss from the source itself. I attempted to reach out and take it back, but he was stronger, and I was thwarted again and again, frustrated I began to hit him, but it did no good, and eventually, he left. With the main source gone, I turned to what was spilled and began to suck it greedily from the carpet.

That was the position he found me in a few moments later when he brought back a tied and gagged woman, and brought her into the room, locking the door behind him. I froze and stared at her, curiously, and she stared back at me in terror.
I realized later what I must have looked like to her. I looked like a demon, straight from the deepest pits of Hell. I was a 19 year old boy with dirty blond hair and what had, by then, became jade green eyes, dressed in nothing but bruises, and a mix of fresh and dried blood. Most of which was on my face and neck, but some of it from the stitches I didn't even know I had, that had been ripped open by our earlier activities, and were now healing up rapidly. My neck still bore the marks of what had aspired, as they would heal much more slowly. And there I was, bent over licking blood off a carpet. She tried to scream as I slowly rose and approached her, my eyes darting back and forth between my creator and the woman, making sure that this was what he wanted. When he nodded, I was on her like a flash, starving, and out of my senses, I simply ripped her throat out, and drained her sloppily. Not even then realizing what had become of me.

Only after I was sated, did the magnitude hit me full on.

I woke up, saw the woman in my arms, long since dead, and recoiled in horror as I dropped her and flew to the nearest corner to escape, whimpering in fear. My stomach twisted when I felt the sticky blood drying on my face and chin, and I tried to vacate my stomach. Very little blood came out, as my new vampiric digestive system worked very quickly to absorb my meals. I groaned and curled up into a ball shaking while my now forever dry eyes, tried to cry. I would have been glad to stay that way forever, had a small touch to my shoulder not startled me out of it. I leaped up and bared my fangs to defend myself from the threat, only to realize who it was.

He had pulled back his arm and now looked at me with a mixture of sadness and joy, how he pulled it off, I'll never know. "It's fine my love," He reassured me, forcing his green gaze on me once more. "That woman was nothing more than a criminal who seduced many men, poisoned them, stole their money and threw them away like trash. Those are the kinds of people we feed upon, we are the judge and the jury of humanity."

With those eyes on mine again, I felt my tension leave. He drew closer and looked me over as he caressed my back, soothing me further. As he did, I realized I could no longer smell the seductively sweet aroma from before, I also realized that the world was much clearer than before. It was more than just my eyes. The smell of blood hung heavily over the room, making my newly sated thirst burn very slightly for a moment. The little lamp that had seemed overly dim before now shone a little too bright, and I couldn't look at it directly without my eyes hurting. Its light revealed a much clearer view of the room than I had gotten before, every detail laid out before me for my convenience. My eyes strayed to the bed and the evidence of what had happened there. My mind flashed back as I saw both my blood and cum staining the ruffled white silk. I felt dirty and sick, but the hands of my assaulter were still rubbing my back, and that feeling was enhanced as well. I could feel every miniscule movement of his fingers as if it were magnified, every tiny pull as the tiny pores in his skin caught every tiny ridge in mine. I wanted to pull away and run, but as my eyes refocused, they were caught in his once more and run, turned into lean in, which I did.

Satisfied, he spoke again, but continued his motions on my back, "My name is Enim, Enim Fo Rewolf. I'll be teaching you how to live as a proper vampire should: killing only when necessary, and only of those that truly deserve it." He looked as if he was remembering something as he spoke the next few words, "We don't attract unwanted attention to ourselves that way."

"But...vampires don't exist." I muttered with little conviction in my voice after seeing what I had done, and still feeling the slight burn of hunger for the blood that still permeated the air. The constant rubbing, as well as the smell and his eyes had a mind numbing effect and I could feel him start to effect me again. I disregarded my own statement, and before I lost all coherent thought again asked, "But, why me? Why not just kill me and be done, surely you could feel my desire to die?"

His rubbing started to become less of an act of comfort, and more out of the lust that was once again building in his eyes. "I told you before, you're beautiful, even more so, covered in blood." His eyes broke mine as they trailed down my body once more to my hardening erection. "I simply could not use and throw away such a rare treasure."

Without his eyes on mine my mind cleared up slightly, I remembered the horrible pain and I took a step away from Enim with disgust plain on my face. "No!" I exclaimed in horror, "J-just leave me alone!"

His eyes snapped back to mine as he took hold of me before I had the chance to flee, and he pulled me back to him. His eyes literally burned into my very soul, and everything went away.

I watched, helpless, as he layed me back onto the filthy bed and proceeded to lick the blood from my body. My mind screamed for him to stop as he began to suck me hard once more. I died as he raped me again, my body acting of it's own accord, urging him on with guttural noises and screaming moans that drove me mad.

And as I went over the edge, everything went black.

Eventually he must have left me alone long enough for me to run away, I don't remember much about the escape itself. I didn't gain my senses back for about a year, I'm not entirely sure, it might have been less or more than that. I fed on anything and everything that happened to get in my way, I was hungry all the time. By the time I gained consciousness, I was deep in a forest miles outside of Chicago. I was naked and covered in countless forms of unnamable debris, only some of which was blood.

I wandered into the city and eventually found my gang, which was under a different leader at the time. His name was Mich, he took me in after a bit of humiliation and starvation, which was his sport. I quickly settled in with pack life and the others took a liking to me almost instantly. I found out that my eyes were unusual, which caused the others to often ask about my past. I always froze with the question, and tried not to let myself remember and they soon knew not to ask, though I constantly got curious stares from time to time. Mich was more than often cruel to all of us, going out of his way to prove how much stronger he was, than we were. The others stayed with him out of necessity, they tolerated him because they were weak, I was different.

One night we all went out to feed. Mich had drained three people before allowing us to hunt. Letting my senses take over, I started to track a woman who was walking alone down the street. She was absolutely stunning, and I was captivated by the sensual swinging of her hips with every step that she took. I imagined how sweet her blood would taste rolling onto my tongue, how soft her skin would feel as I broke her bones underneath it, until I could hold myself back no longer, I pounced. When I had almost reached her, something slammed into my side and we both went sprawling to the ground. Looking up with a snarl, I saw it was Mich, and he was holding me down.

"This one's mine!" He growled, grinding me into the pavement.

The woman screamed and started to run. My vision went red at the prospect of him having her. I could still taste her blood, still feel her skin, and I could not lose her, not to him. I remembered all the cruel things he had done to me and the other members of the gang, and my mind snapped. "NO!" I screamed, and my voice echoed off the walls around us, as I threw him, with all my might, off of me. He flew fifty feet before crashing into a dumpster hard enough for the metal to mold around his body, and I was there already, right in front of him. His eyes were shocked as I ripped his head from his shoulders and crushed it with my bare hands, still in a blind rage. By the time I had calmed down, many of the lights had come on from the noise of the massacre, which had woken up every human within a half a block. I quickly pulled a match from my back pocket, threw it at Mich, who caught fire instantaneously and ran. It was later declared by the pack, after they had found me, that I was the new leader.

I never knew why Enim hadn't looked for me, I know he could have found me easily. Still I kept expecting him. I jumped at every noise or shadow for years, I never would satisfy the gangs curiosity at these behaviors and I suppose the simply wrote it off as the same reason I wouldn't answer any questions about my past.

There was never any doubt that I wouldn't heed Enim's words about not hunting innocents. Perhaps it's because I was one of the bad guys once, that I couldn't hunt them. It was the fact that I could relate to them too easily, understand the motives that pushed them to commit the crimes. While the higher class got everything that they needed, or wished for, without a struggle, the so-called criminals, were desperate people, just trying to get by day after day, just barely scraping by.

And even in my new vampiric life, I felt cornered. I struggled inside, wrestling with myself every single day, while outside, I was the great leader the pack wanted, and needed, to survive.
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The world flooded back as the last few drops left Richard Fenleaf's body, entered mine, and he dies with a slight exhale of breath. I sigh too as I let him down slowly, and release him, before standing up to take in my surroundings once more.
"The pack" were where I had left them, their eyes wide and searching, but seeing nothing, my aura eating away at their sanity. The seething stench of their terror is still filling my senses. I'm not nearly as hungry anymore, but I do have a job to do. One by one I drain them, mentally as well as physically. Me ripping their minds open as easily, and without consent, as my fangs tear open their skin, and begrudgingly take what little pieces of them they have to offer. These creatures hold nothing of interest to me, and I let the bits and pieces of memory I steal, pour into the back of my mind to be as forgotten as my mind allows.
When I reach the last one, I see that it was Richard's one and only friend. I don't care quite enough to pull up his name, though, I do come to a decision. Sealing away my aura completely I step up and crouch before him. He doesn't move, his mind now occupied by horrors of it's own making rather than whatever my aura had been feeding it. I lean close to his ear, whisper a few ancient words, and his eyes begin to focus. He recoils when he finds me so near and I cover his mouth before he can scream.

"I've decided to let you live," I mutter, bored with the situation once again, "In hopes that you will spread the word of what you have witnessed on this night. Not in a cause of retaliation, but as a warning to all of your kin as to not draw my attention with the spilling of innocent blood." I recite a few more ancient words as my fangs delve into neck for the final time this evening and I draw only a few mouthfuls of blood. I let the taste and smell of it linger, before pulling away and continuing, "That wound will always pain you as a constant reminder, as well as allow me to find you no matter where you might flee. Should I find it necessary to hunt you down." I remove myself from him entirely and let his screams fill the night as I slip away into the shadows once more.