[img]https://i.imgur.com/q964FNz.png[/img]

Pain coursed through Morgan's being - his leg gushed red as the vampire could feel himself winning. The boy had proven to be more comptent than his previous quarry, but Morgan's face split into a feral grin. Panic was in his prey's eyes, a sure sign that--Morgan's scream ripped through the alley as he could feel the quick twist of the arrested blade, its sharpened edge digging beyond his gloves and into his pale flesh. Instinctively, Morgan loosened his grip, realizing too late his mistake as he felt a heavy boot punch itself into his chest. The vampire rose to a crouching position, pushed by the ferocity of the blow. It is here that Morgan's bloodlust took control.

Almost.

The world began to become red as long fangs beared themselves with a bloodchilling hiss. [color=fff200][i]'This is how it en--'[/i][/color] A sprinting figure caught the vampire's eye at the last possible second. Looking, Morgan realized that the sprinting figure was coming to aid his fallen prey, blade drawn, face as hard as the city's streets he ran upon. Every fiber wanted to feast, to rip out the throat of his boy. But Morgan's time was up - he had been noticed, and experience had taught him the boy was not worth the trouble. Without a word, Morgan's bloodied, dark form ran  down the alley, escaping the now unfavorable fight with a vampire's unnatural speed.