Bakura sighed. He looked at his pale skin, his white hair. Looking into the mirror, he could see the faint pink glow of his eyes. He slammed his fist angrily into his counter. The wood cracks. He sighed again. Warily, he looked around the room. There he saw the pictures of his dead loved ones. He became angry again.
The next morning, walking down the street in the rain, Bakura realized he hasn't fed for 72 hours. He takes out a small pocked mirror caked with dried blood, and sees that the wrinkles were coming back. A terror springs up inside him. He rushes down a familiar alleyway, seeing the remains of his last meal partially hidden behind some garbage bags. A woman in her mid-thirties turned down the alleyway where Bakura was hiding. She was tall, had long, black hair and was dressed in a tight leather suit.
Perfect, Bakura thinks. As she nears the dumpster he was hiding behind, his senses prick up, searching for anyone else that might be coming down the alley. No one. He jumps out at full speed and tackles the woman, slitting her throat before she could let out a sound. Blood trickled out of her throat, mixing in with the rainwater and forming a small red, sticky stream. No! Bakura thought franticly. He plunged his now sharp fangs into her throat, drinking the blood as its sticky redness stained his shirt. Bakura felt himself looking younger now, a little color returning to his face. His hair grew softer, and color returned to his eyes.
Bakura dragged the remains behind some more trash bags. Blood was still coming out of the body. Then he heard footsteps. Bakura fled the scene as fast as he could, hoping not to be caught.
The next morning, he turned on the TV, expecting the worst. There, on the first channel he turns to, is the story he had been dreading. "Woman found murdered in alleyway". He slumped down into his chair. "FUCK!", he screamed out. Everyone knew now that there was a murderer about. Not that they knew that it was him, but they still knew there was one lurking the streets. Bakura imagined what would happen if they found out it was him, They would throw me into a prison and torture me, then kill me with a silver knife! His ears pricked up, thinking he heard someone approaching his room. The footsteps continued on, down the hallway.
Thank you for reading, this is only page 1 of chapter 1. Review if you would like to.