The Last Wolf-Warrior
He placed one of his gloved hands on her window and tried to look past his reflection in the glass. He tried, but he failed. All he could see was his haunting yellow eyes staring back at him.
It is lucky for me that Kirby is so inexperienced, he thought, shutting his eyes in an attempt to erase the troubling sight from his mind. It was a futile effort, and he knew it; the golden glow of eyes that were once black would always follow him, always linger in his mind. Otherwise he might have known what I am…
Without opening his eyes, he slowly opened the window and entered the room. He landed silently on the soft carpet and crept toward the sleeping girl's bed.
He could smell the blood…
The veteran star warrior shook his head. He thought he had overcome this urge. Over the millennia, he had found that he didn't even need blood for nourishment, as long as he had water. It had been nearly two thousand years since he had yearned for the taste of blood.
And yet, the smell of hers was so mouth-watering; the idea of drinking her dry was so tempting…
Meta Knight jumped backwards, landing next to the window. With the cool breeze blowing past his face, it was easier to think clearly. What am I doing here? he asked himself. He knew that part of his attraction to her was from the sweet smell of her blood, but there was also something else.
She's no more than a child!
He was jerked out of his musing by a small sound – a moan – and movement from her direction. "Meta Knight… Meta Knight…"
He tensed. Had she awoken? He relaxed when she went on to mumble, "No, Tuff, don't go near the wolf…"
Wolf…
He could never be with her, and not only because she was just a child. He was something dangerous. Getting close to her would only slowly kill her.
Meta Knight flitted out her window, into the welcoming darkness. He never looked back, and he didn't stop until dawn.
He stopped and looked toward the muted hues of the rising sun. Slowly, he removed his cape, his armor, and his mask; his sword fell to the ground beside him.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Most people thought that he was of Kirby's species, or a similar one. He would never admit it, but they were right. He was the same kind of being as Kirby.
Or he used to be.
His eyes had once been black, his skin once pink. He used to be that naïve pink creature.
Not anymore.
Meta Knight slowly opened his eyes and took a long, hard look at himself. He stretched out his arms, to see them shine brighter than the sun ever could. This was why he could never love.
He had lost his chance at love… for he was a creature of the night.
Vampire.
Hey, you might notice that the structure's a little different than my normal setup. No bold author's notes at the beginning, no signing it, that sort of thing. I'd rather not (and it's none of your business why not, so don't ask.)
Anyway, I just wrote this little number for a certain someone. YTB, did I do a good job? You better fucking like it, 'cause I haven't written anything for a while and I worked really damn hard!!
I don't know if I want to continue this… I could, if I got enough positive reviews. I have ideas to continue with this. It'd be a whole new fic., with some more background an' shit... but I don't know how happy YTB would be with that…