Silently I move, nothing more than a shadow in this strange, seemingly perpetual twilight. My footsteps are almost non-existent, leaving not a mark, making not a sound as I approach with the caution and the skill of someone who is nothing less than an expert. Well, I have had a lot of practise.

The silence around me is almost deafening, even to my own extraordinary senses. All I can hear is my own dark blood, pounding softly in my ears, like a drum. Suddenly my pace speeds up. My senses have picked up something, somebody, in front of me. Living, breathing, moving. Good. It has been many nights since I have had a feast, let alone from a fresh victim. The blood is pounding faster in my ears, like a tribal drum. I laugh softly to myself. The hunt is on.

The human is picking up it’s pace, fearing the darkness of these alleys that are my home. I often wonder to myself, why do they fear the dark? After all, the dark hides one’s fears, whereas in the light your soul is laid bare for all to see. I cackle evilly. Mortals are pathetic. Even from here I can feel the human’s fear. It is male, and even though he is half a mile away, I can still see the sweat clinging from his skin. He’s nervous, and I don’t blame him.

Around me loom dilapidated buildings, ominous in this strange dusk light. So softly do I approach my victim, nothing more than a ghost haunting these dark streets, thirsty for vengeance, thirsty for blood. Above me the moon shines, her ethereal light illuminating eerily, sending shivers down even the most hardened souls. But not mine.

I don’t have a soul.

I can see him clearly now. Walking quickly, sending nervous glances all around, his breathing fast and laboured. Licking my lips, a grin creeps into the corners of my mouth. Before I can stop myself, I swoop…

He struggles, but not for long. I am far stronger than any mortal could ever dream of being and even he, a young male in the prime of his life, has no hope of victory. Sinking my teeth deep into his neck, I suck furiously; stealing every last drop of the precious, dark red ether from the human’s broken body.

I don’t feel any remorse. I never have, and I doubt that will ever be the case. To me, humans are merely a food source, although admittedly, I some ways they do interest me. Such as how they can be so pointlessly violent. So many millions have I seen fall in the battles that have raged since the beginning of the human era; so many lives lost for reason neither of that neither side knew, and because of it they died.

Oh well, it’s not my problem.

Leaning against a cold wall, I allow myself to relax. There’s no need to worry, nobody’s going to find the body - not until sunrise at least. Exhaling deeply, I close my weary eyes. Tired, so tired. For so many years have I roamed this earth, for so many centuries have I watched from the shadows. There is a heaviness in my bones, like lead, weighing me down. The freedom of old times has now rotted with everything else in my life.

Around me I become aware of danger, and so force myself to my feet. So what if I’m tired? Ignoring even the slightest danger is, in my case, practically suicidal. My breath catches. They’re all around me. Damn! I shouldn’t have let my guard down, not even for a minute! I curse quietly beneath my breath. And then it dawns on me.

My victim was a decoy. By having me focus on him, they were able to sneak up on me… an ambush! I try to slow my racing heart, but still I panic. Ten of them, all with guns, and they’ve got me cornered. I curse myself inwardly… how could I have survived for so long, just to be killed by some pretentious mortals?

Suddenly I feel a blinding pain in my chest, causing me to drop to the ground like a stone. My body screams in pain, and yet I manage to force my eyes open a fraction. Towering over me is the figure of a man, the silhouette of a gun clutched in his hand. Our eyes make contact, and so softly I speak that none of the others there would even know that I had uttered a word,

“You finally have what you wanted.”

He looks at me, this man whom has hunted me to the ends of the earth for so long. He nods his head simply, a strange look in his eyes. Regret? It couldn’t possibly be…

Pain twists in my chest once again. I can’t breathe, my lungs are failing. Blood is gushing from the open wound, and I know that it is fatal. I sigh deeply, my last, tortured breath escaping me.

My eyes close forever, and the pain is gone.

By Lucy Sheers