I always knew that Mike would follow me. It was so easy I almost felt bad. But still this...hunger...this thirst was getting out of hand. I couldn't deny it anymore. I wasn't going to keep drinking the blood of those measly animals. They didn't satisfy. It felt like starving and only getting a crumb of bread to eat. You know that one day your going to snap. Now back to where I am. Mike. His smile is so pure, but i will get the last laugh. His hair is shining in the moonlight. It's the perfect night for some food. The moon is so large and there is no one around. How do I eat? I guess I will I start by just barely holding his warm and comforting hand. It was amazing how good it felt against my freezing skin. Slowly my hand drifts up to his strong fore arm. I can smell his blood pounding against the barrier the his skin makes. With a sudden urge I puncture his perfect skin with my razor sharp teeth. The ruby red blood is coming out in buckets, and by George I am laughing. A wicked laugh that sounds more like a malign demonic sound than my own nurturing voice. I feel the warmth of his blood. I sense the urge to take a taste. Slowly I lift his arm up to my lips and drink in the bloody fluid. What have I done? But it tastes so good...