The night air was cool to the touch, icy like her heart. There she sat, under a wise, looming willow tree, in an invisible shade. The leaves swayed in the wind, humming a quiet song. The song was interrupted by foot steps. It was her cue, her calling, telling her it was time to feed. She crouched like a predator waiting to pounce, for that was exactly what she was. All emotions and thoughts, everything human, had been torn out of her. All she knew was that she was hungry, and what she was hungry for.
Her victim. A slender young male, spiked dark hair, glasses, unexpecting. The moment he stepped on the corner, she could smell his lush, sweet blood. The moment he stepped by her, he was hers. She leaped, baring her fangs, ready to sink them into him. But it was at that moment that she realized that he had been expecting her attack. He whirled around, seized her wrists, and threw her against the willow. Letting instinct take over, she jumped to her feet, something he really wasn't expecting, and planted her fist in the middle of his face. The sight of blood trickling down his cheek drove her crazy; she lunged, ready to taste his blood. She felt a sharp prick in her neck, she stopped. She could hear a stream running, the noise got louder and louder, until it was a river with a roar like a lion. Her world turned black like her heart, and she collapsed onto the wet grass.