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Supper Time - story by Alex

Written by Axel Fray

I stand beside the door as it opens. She walks inside and closes the door. She can’t see me, because I move too fast for her to notice. Wherever she looks, I move behind her. I can’t let her see me yet. There is no fun is scaring your victim too soon. She is probably my 1400th victim; for some it might be something to be recognized, but for me it’s no different than my past 1399 victims.

Once she is inside, she puts her handbag on the table opposite the door. Her phone rings, and she picks it up. She talks about stupid human things that all humans talk about, and then hangs up.

I’m getting bored, so I decide it’s time I hear her scream. I switch off the lights and sit on the chair beside the table. She swears, and then switches the light back on again. She turns around, towards the table, and sees me.

I hear a nice long scream. It pleases me. I almost smile when I look at her face so full of fear. I get up and stand in front of her. “Hi there,” I say softly, and she screams even louder, for now she has seen my fangs. People used to scream better back in the 1800s, when I looked more formidable in my outfit. Now, it is the year 2012, and the dressing style of people have changed. I am forced to blend in, act like I am one of them. Right now, I am wearing a black shirt and black jeans, so it is only natural that people are less scared.
My kind are more known to humans than we prefer. Books, movies, and stories have spread among humans that are, to some point, true. Most of them, thankfully, believe that we do not exist, which makes the hunting and killing even better.
As I stare into her eyes and smile, revealing my perfect set of teeth and two beautiful fangs, she stops screaming, and gets lost in the deep ocean of my two brilliant eyes. Now, I own her.

I scoop her up in my arms and take her to the couch. There, I lay her down in a sleeping position; and all this time she’s looking at me, and I’m looking at her. Slowly, I kiss her on the lips, and she kisses me back. I gently move my lips towards her neck and kiss her again.
I feel her blood pumping through her veins. The smell of blood flowing intoxicates me. I get excited. I get hungry.
I bite her on the neck. As soon as my fangs make contact with blood, I go into a frenzy. She moans. She likes it too. I turn my attention back to the blood.
The first few drops are the best. My fangs act as transportation for the blood: from her neck to my mouth. As soon as the blood reaches my tongue, my brain becomes ecstatic. I savor the taste. Every inch of my body feels renewed. I smile at the sound created by me sucking the blood from her.
Soon, I drain her of all her blood. She is dead. It has been a great meal, but now it is time for me to take my leave. The night is young, and there are others I have yet to taste.

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