The night was cold and dark, frigid even, and there wasn't a single soul in sight. A thick layer of snow had fallen, but the storm had subsided, leaving only a thin layer of clouds for the full moon to filter through. Among the sparkling white of the freshfallen snow, not a sound was heard.
A thin man with dark hair slid out of an alley, his crimson eyes seeming to glow against the dim streelights. His footsteps were basically silent in the snow, and he glanced over his shoulder as he reached up to wipe a small smear of blood from his chin. He was sharp dressed in a thick coat lined with a fur collar. Nobody would suspect that he just coerced a young woman to her death not minutes prior. He saw not a soul in the frigid streets, so the man with a mysterious gait walked alone and unheard, his deed not yet discovered. It was a dangerous thing for a man of his type to travel alone. Vampires, as myths and legends call them, are not the extravagant accented counts and countesses who fly through windows to capture unsuspecting ladies' lives. No, no. They are animals. They travel in packs like wolves, depending on one leader to guide them in migratory patterns... but this vampire, Anastas, travels alone and hardly feeds as regularly as needed.
It can become quite dangerous, or rather he has to stay on his toes. Being alone in an unpredictable and cold world leaves not a ton of room for mistakes... especially when it is your life on the line. He had managed to survive 148 years this way, and he isn't about to screw up now.
So Anastas adjusted his collar and stuck his hand deep into his woollen pockets, glancing side to side in a shifty manner every now and then... a man like him must always stay on his toes.
A thin man with dark hair slid out of an alley, his crimson eyes seeming to glow against the dim streelights. His footsteps were basically silent in the snow, and he glanced over his shoulder as he reached up to wipe a small smear of blood from his chin. He was sharp dressed in a thick coat lined with a fur collar. Nobody would suspect that he just coerced a young woman to her death not minutes prior. He saw not a soul in the frigid streets, so the man with a mysterious gait walked alone and unheard, his deed not yet discovered. It was a dangerous thing for a man of his type to travel alone. Vampires, as myths and legends call them, are not the extravagant accented counts and countesses who fly through windows to capture unsuspecting ladies' lives. No, no. They are animals. They travel in packs like wolves, depending on one leader to guide them in migratory patterns... but this vampire, Anastas, travels alone and hardly feeds as regularly as needed.
It can become quite dangerous, or rather he has to stay on his toes. Being alone in an unpredictable and cold world leaves not a ton of room for mistakes... especially when it is your life on the line. He had managed to survive 148 years this way, and he isn't about to screw up now.
So Anastas adjusted his collar and stuck his hand deep into his woollen pockets, glancing side to side in a shifty manner every now and then... a man like him must always stay on his toes.