[@Eviledd1984][@Cio]

Evren threw the door open and paused as if listening to Aava, but his attention was down the alley; an angry young man had left the bar and stormed down the street, just passing through the ghoul’s line of sight. A look of desperate hunger and determination washed across his withered features and he took off down the firescape. His quick bounds down the metal stairs sent low, rumbly echoes through the alley, like the growls of a wild beast.
His cheap sneakers quietly hit concrete as he advanced closer to his prey. His ancient features were set into a steely, emotionless look of sheer hunger, glassy onyx eyes ignoring all the world but the unfortunate young man he was taking strides to catch up with. Evren reached out and grabbed him, gripping his shoulder with his right hand and stifling the poor man’s screams by putting his left hand over his mouth. The vampire inhaled with a sharp hiss and bit into his neck with his maw of huge jagged fangs, chewing viciously deeper into his throat to exacerbate and deepen the wound. He felt his teeth scrape against the man’s spine as he settled into a gruesome nursing action, sucking blood out of the dying man without visible remorse or even thought. His vile fingers gripped the mortal’s fair skin, nails puncturing through his cheek and cut into his bicep. Blood seeped out of the corners of his mouth, down his chin and onto his ragged clothes as he tried to drink more of the man, greedily slurping up more and more gore.
The whole affair lasted less than a minute, but as adrenaline coursed through his immortal body Evren felt as though he was part of a massive fray. His eyes shot open and he withdrew from the cadaver as if it were burning hot; the prey was supine on the cobblestone, dead as could be, but nearly undisturbed below the shoulders. His head was nearly detached from his body, dipped into his shoulder limply and twisted upward at an unnatural angle. Evren himself had blood staining his mouth and chin, and ruining his clothes. His yellowed talons were tipped in blood, flecks of gore across his hands and sleeves, purplish on his skin in the dim light of the early dawn.