Vampire Blood

I ask myself one single question: why do I enjoy blood? Is it something beautiful in the color? Is it the fact that I can literally hold life in my hand? Is it the power of being able to control the enemy's fate? I don't think so. I think I just like blood; warm and sticky, stingy and irresistible. It's taste as soft as the moth's scaly wing.

There is it: the blood, the wound. The truth: we will all die soon. But me, me, no. I don't die, no. I... I sink my fangs into the living flesh of another. It feels glorious. Living flesh, juicy and sweet. I close my eyes and take a moment. Revel in it, the magic, buzzing, building in my brain. Mmm, it is simply delightful. I hear a gasp and am pulled from my sedative state. My target is dying. I watch. I watch as the last wisps of life leave his eyes. I watch as his last breathe is breathed. I sit and stare, clicking my legs, curiosity bubbling over. After a bit I roll on my back, looking at the sky. The stars are pretty. Hmmph, I guess I'm going back to the mansion, I think, after moments of serenity pass by the sacred art of death. I'm going to say good bye to the statue. "Good bye dead man." I sing in a sing-songy voice. Good bye, I seem to hear him echo. I start prancing toward home and leave the body as another murder case to solve. It will probably end up going cold. Anyway, see ya and good night.