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(John) Mitchell (thisiswhatiam) wrote in hellascenes,

"Some, yeah," Mitchell answered. He had prowled the streets, mostly sizing up his competition, seeing who and what was around that needed to be noted. He hadn't seen anything much darker than himself, vampires were common, at least. He hadn't yet determined if that would make things easier, or harder, to survive while feeding the monster within, and in truth he didn't care. He was hungry, and that was what mattered.

he was hungry for blood, and there was a donor right in front of him. Out the window were his self righteous morals of before. All that he'd preached to the vampires at the funeral parlor was complete crap. Vampires were blood thirsty monsters, he knew that, and he embraced it now, rather than trying to hide it.

He just had to get this girl, Alex, alone somewhere safe, where he could drain her and dump her and be done with it. Her blood would keep him content for a while, until he sought out another victim, and another after that. It was a vicious cycle, but the drinking was a high greater than sex.

"It's a pretty dangerous place. You sure you want to wander these streets?" He'd give her an out. If she decided she didn't want to do it after all, she'd be safe. But if she insisted, and allowed him to walk with her, well. He was a monster, he didn't ask for the bloodlust, but neither did he choose to deny it any longer.