In the musky smelling alley, he waits.
Covered in filth he watches,
watching and waiting for the night to fall.

Once the sun has gone and the moon has risen,
he is able to move.
He is confined to his dark alley when the sun is out.

If he were to step out to where the sun may spot him,
his pale skin would be scorched,
slowly burning. After a moment or so, he would combust.

His screams would fill the streets.
Women and children's shrill cries would join his own.

Men would pull the women away,
while others would attempt to appease the fire,
only to stumble back as the fire grew,
thirsty for more.

The fire would burn until he was consumed.
As it would die down, all that would remain would be his ashes.

No, he would not leave his alley until the night,
for he was one of the night creatures.
He is neither dead nor alive, neither human nor animal.

He is a parasitic being.
He is one of the many
nosferatu that reside in various cities around the world.