I remembered that night. The wind, the rain, the storm… and the blood. I hadn't meant to do it. I had meant to do what most couples do- make love.

It was my first time, and I was unsure at first of what I was doing. But instinct took over and I became the master of all her dreams. I was better than anyone she had ever been with; I could see it in her eyes. I'm very perceptive like that. I can read emotions, feel fear on the wind. I can also smell blood.

She was beyond the point of her climax- her cries told me that. Still, she wanted more, and I gave it to her. Easy. But usually I'm wonderful at keeping my control under check. That night I epically failed. I never felt so much in one instant- pain, pleasure, need… it was too much for me. As I came, I bit her shoulder, cutting cleanly through her flesh and grinding against bone. Spasms wracked my body and I gnashed my teeth in the wound, splattering her blood all over my face. She screamed in pain, and I looked at her. Her eyes were widened in fear, blood dripping down her creamy bare shoulder. Normally I would have cared about her pain, her fear. But I could feel none of it.

The scent was all around me, the taste flooding my mouth. I licked it off my teeth and lips, instantly wanting more. I had lost sight of who I was when the blood filled my throat. I wanted more. Needed more. I could feel the lust building in me again.

She scrambled out from underneath me, her eyes like that of a doe in the crosshairs. I could no longer see her face; all I could see was the crescent shaped mark, weeping blood, on her shoulder. I licked my lips, no more intelligent than an animal now, and stepped toward her. She stumbled backward, then turned and ran. I followed.

She ran a long time before I caught her, probably longer than anyone I've hunted since. The night was dark, so I couldn't see her, but I could smell her blood leaving a trail behind her, being diluted by the rain. I felt the vibration of her ragged breathing on the air, and ran faster. Finally I dived on her, pinning her to the ground. She screamed- but fortunately for me the thunder roared its battle cry at that moment. I could not sate myself on the street, this I knew. I grabbed her and lifted her, seemingly sapping no effort from me, and carried her up the nearest fire escape to the roof. There I laid her down, and strattled her to keep her still. She quivered and whimpered, and for a moment, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth. The smell of the blood was maddening, but I needed to calm her before she woke the whole neighborhood. "It's okay," I whispered to her. "I lost myself… I'm sorry… I love you." I stroked her cheek, and kissed her again.

This time she kissed back, and sighed. I could hear her heartbeat slowing.

"I'm sorry… here…" I started to kiss her wound, as we usually did to each other kissing each other when and where we were hurt was an old joke of ours, and she understood it now. "She chuckled and whispered my name into the dark.

"Mmmm, hey, that hurts a little… hey…" she trailed off as I began to touch her again. "On the roof? C'mon, someone will see… hey, we don't even know whose roof this is!"

I laughed a little, and stroked her harder, drawing a gasp from her. "Maybe… but if they do, they will have never had a show like this before." Unable to wait anymore, I thrusted into her.

She cried out in a combination of pain and pleasure, then laughed into the night. Arching her back, she tossed her head and screamed my name. Seeing her react to me like this would have made any other man insane with desire, including me a few minutes ago. But it was no longer enough for me. I needed to taste her again. I needed to feel her life exploding into my mouth. I began to softly stroke her wounded shoulder with my tongue, catching the blood- streaked rainwater as it cascaded from her. This was what I needed. This is what would sustain me, bring me to climax. I stuck my tongue under the flap of skin that I had almost completely bitten off, where the blood flowed fresh and thick. I moaned as it flowed over my tongue. I lapped at it as a dog would lap water, drinking it faster than it pooled to the surface. Even this wasn't enough. I needed more.

I nuzzled her neck, kissing it with increased pressure till I felt my fang- like teeth break the skin. As the blood emerged anew, I thrusted into her faster and harder. But even this was not enough to satisfy me. Just as the thunder crashed above us, I bit deeper into her neck, her jugular just beyond my teeth. She was screaming now, but I didn't care. Blood flowed freely into my mouth and I took a moment to savor it before digging my teeth in once more.

For a moment her jugular vein was a rubbery, pulsing rope between my teeth, then, unable to bear my lust any more, I snapped my jaws shut, and severed it. Now her throat was a fountain, gushing my utmost desire. I guzzled it, moaning, screaming, climaxing in the night. I pressed my lips to the crater in the side of her throat and drank deeply, her life pooling behind my lips again and again. Careless about the mess I was making, I tore her open with my teeth and fingernails, trying desperately to quench my thirst. I ripped at her chest until I found her heart, still beating feebly. I tore it from her chest with my teeth and chewed it, savoring the metallic taste that filled my mouth with each bite. I savored her heart, and chewed slowly, needing to extract the blood from each cell.

Swallowing what remained of the heart, I continued to drink from the hole in her chest. I had no idea that one person could hold so much blood.

Hours later, I stared down at her mangled form. Never before had I tasted anyone else's blood. It had made me crazy, and I had killed her. Seeing her this way, I felt no remorse for what I had done. I knew I should, but I wasn't altogether certain I was still human enough to feel those emotions.

I remember rushing back to her house into the night, the rain beating roughly onto my back. I remembered the long shower that followed, how the water running off my body had been tinted crimson. I remembered her parents' questions, and my alibis, my story that someone had robbed the house and taken her. I remembered the funeral, the condolences, the fake tears. But of all, I remembered the irresistible way her blood tasted most.

I loved her, once. We laughed together, we cried together, we kissed and cuddled together. I was as normal as the next guy. But no longer.

Tearing myself away from my reveries, I opened my eyes, feeling the familiar stirrings in my body.

It was time to hunt.