The night was cold...the type where breath comes from beyond your lips in a fog. The streets were wet from the light drizzle that tapered off a little more, barely falling now. The sky was dark with clouds from the earlier downpour. It rained all day, showing that the Earth had a dark side to all those accursed sunny days. The heat was snatched when the warm, shining ball sunk below the surface, letting those that remained hidden from such warmth out to play.

Silence is something that everyone both likes and hates. Silence can cause fear, along with calming someone who's had too much of the opposite. With others, silence isn't taken into consideration. When by yourself, your ears open up to the fact that you are alone and are weak and vulnerable. Fear often leads to panic, and that's when mistakes happen.

Humans are beings of warmth, since their body maintains a constant temperature by working in sync with skin and body to keep them living. Cold, for long periods of time, isn't something they like very well. Some people are trained to ignore, or like to think they do. Animals have weapons against such things in nature, leaving them stronger than living humans. Animals learn to travel in packs, unless they are capable to defend themselves. Human beings trade intelligence for common sense.

Silence can be a good cover for developing haste and fear. Silence by itself is a good catalyst to instill the nightmares every human child is taught to believe in and learn to dread. A single footstep...a whisper of speech...all effective to make that lone traveler look back with slightly wide eyes and plant that little doubt of safety in their minds.

The cold also helps to numb intelligence humans are so well-known for, dulling senses with the thought of freezing. Cold that only humans feel.

Humans never like to give rise to the evil in this world, for they like to believe it doesn't exist. If it doesn't exist, it can't possibly come to get them. To hurt KILL them.

But the evil DOES exist in this world. Evil takes many forms, has many levels it lives in. Every living thing has at least a sliver in the back of their mind that makes them do from something as small to a practical joke, to kill for either pleasure or survival. Some take the evil and embrace it...some deny what they are...and others, like myself, ARE it.

Evil and darkness inhabit everywhere. Even such quaint places such as this. Parks during the day are a thing of beauty. The trees are so green, providing shade along with growing from the light of the sun. Laughter and activity fill the silence, even though silence in a park during the day is welcome.

During the night...silence is a weapon to the children of the dark. To those that embrace what they are...relish in it...ENJOY it. To deny a person that is a perversion of evil and magic, is to deny one's own life. Those that accept what they are, harbor the darkness and silence as their weapons to twist and use as they will. To hunt. To live.

No breeze in the night matters little if you decide how you want to approach the lone traveler. Plans thought out in lengthy magnitude often require open room for change. Especially when monitoring a group of illicit, young, reckless teenagers doing something they shouldn't in a place where they think they won't get in trouble. Under-aged drinking.

Waiting was the hardest part. To hide and wait and watch as they filled themselves with the sour, sweet, or tangy taste of booze...just KNOWING they would be easy prey and ready to attack. It wouldn't take much and a full meal would be right there, with little resistance. There would be no need for another late night excursion for many days if it was that easy. But hunting is NEVER that easy...

Around midnight, the group tottered off in small packs of two or three to their cars, challenging death as well. Spotting the weakest of the small pack was easy from before they separated. Following the one that walked away from the small pack was a breeze. Stealth was rarely needed due to seeing how the child wobbled on those high cut boots of hers.

She didn't seem aware of her surroundings, or that she was alone in a dangerous world, until a few dozen yards...when the cold helped sober her up. That was just fine. A good hunt is rare these days, a true terror hard to find. Humans become desensitized more and more with the bizarre twists that come from the deranged of the world. Those who embrace their evil might actually find existence ACCEPTABLE by humans, if they didn't live in secrecy to survive.

It was easy to spot her mood shift; seeing how her arms tightly crossed over that thick coat she wore to combat the chill, the stiff way her shoulders sat, the few times her head subtly shifted to either side. Checking for safety. If only she bothered to look at a higher altitude...

Jumping across the trees and watching above in the branches is easy when one's senses are developed way beyond a normal human being's. And the ability to fly helps. Hovering would be easier, but not as much fun. Taking delight in the hunt helps make the capture all that more rewarding.

Age helps to perfect the hunting techniques to their utmost peak. The weapons and senses given and attributed to the change at death help. It also makes the evilness of such an easy hunt curve the lips into a grin that would scare death herself. The weapons hidden behind that smile help to scare those that can't fathom such an evil exists.

The chill doesn't come to an evil I belong to, because I am a chill in my own right. I am a paradox, yet I don't care what I am. I only enjoy being it. To be a perfect killing machine, with few weaknesses. I am a monster...a hunter... And tonight, this girl is my prey.

Without a sound, barely breaking a branch as I fly into the open and drop onto the ground a few feet behind the girl I realize is nothing more than a short, mousey thing. She whirls around with wide eyes, clutching at the folds to her coat, before a small part of her relaxes at seeing something not so threatening. But then, that's what I like to appear as. I look like she does, another person out for a late night stroll. But that's where the casualties end.

She blinks behind thick eyelashes, and flashes me a hesitant, but friendly smile. "Hello... I didn't see you there." She quietly greeted, hands still tightly clutching her coat.

A small, mischievous smile curls around my mouth. Her eyes were confused at my sudden appearance, but that was natural. "That's because I didn't mean for you to." With lightening-like reflexes, I fly to her with a hand extended and grab her throat. She shrieks and only gets a single step back in retreat. Hands grip mine as she struggles, to no avail. Even if she was a weight lifter, she wouldn't be able to pry my hand loose. My fingers give a small squeeze, gurgles coming from her breath.

She gives a gasp of surprise as I float up and quickly press her back against a tree. Her face is the epitome of terror and horror as her eyes try to assess what I am. "Don't...don't, please..." She squeaks out, fingers clawing at my hands. Her nails dig moon-shape gouges on my skin, but in the matter of seconds, they heal and leave no scars. An evil smile curves my lips, revealing my weapons...and the things nightmares are made of. "You...what...ARE you?!" She heavily whispers, tears falling. Her eyes widen as far as they go as she stares at something she's unable to comprehend.

I can feel every bit of her shaking. Her erratic breathing is evidence enough.

The smile widens. What am I? It's simple. I am what I am. I am power. I bring death. I come to satisfy my hunger. "I am the forsaken." I mysteriously rasp. My hand makes it hard to go for an easy opening, so I open her coat and find a bared shoulder. I give her soft skin a sensual, appreciative look with my dark eyes. "So beautiful..." I murmur.

"No...NO, PLEASE!!" She whispers, the plead meant to come out as a shriek.

I ignore her human pleads, also the cries of pain as my teeth reach their goal. Her blood is warm, despite the cold. It tastes good on my tongue and I can't help myself.

I remember to stop before draining the last bit, knowing that my own destruction will come from draining her completely. As I drink, I sink to the ground until I'm cradling the mousey girl in my arms. She looks even more beautiful pale as death and as I hear her extremely shallow breathing, I take a bit of pity from what's left of the sliver of my own humanity and break her neck.

Allowing her to die. To do what I can and cannot do. Like I said, I am a paradox. I am alive, but I am also dead.

I am, and bring death.

I bring salvation to the living that eventually die.

I am a murderer.

I am a vampire that survives.