WOODSTOCK

God love the hippies.

He hoped this movement lasted forever. The emotional climate was always calm and happy. He could live without their political beliefs, but the pros far outweighed the cons, in his opinion. No longer did he feel terror coming from his victims as he drained their life. The constant state of inebriation in the crowds he immersed himself in assured that they were oblivious to the finality of his actions. The crushing guilt he used to experience was replaced with a sense of resignation. This was the basis of his existence, and fighting it only caused him greater turmoil.

The last few years, he had moved along the fringe of society. Traveling from one group to another. Never staying in one place for long. The compounds were his favorite new development, without a doubt. Full of runaways and vagrants, lost souls coming and going without purpose or reason. He was easily able to survive off the inhabitants of any given settlement for an extended period of time. No one gave a second thought to those who were gone in the morning, assuming they had left in the night. It was not unusual to arrive with no possessions. To have no acquaintances. To move on with no word. The perfect cover for his victims. For himself.

Peace.

It was not an emotion that he had picked up often in his long and tortured existence. He knew to enjoy it while he could. He slowly ambled through the crowd, trying to get closer to the source. He had thought to skip this particular festival, but with the promise of a cloud cover on this day, he gave in to his restlessness and sought solace in the waves of contentment and admiration coming from the audience. The latter he attributed to the attendees who were coherent enough to register the fact that they were at a live performance of some of the most infuential musicians of their time. The ones who weren't were happy enough just to be around those of like minds and habits.

He continued to seek out the serenity that was so close. He was wandering farther from the throngs of people who were trying to get a good look at the stage, or a free toke off their neighbor. He was approaching the area where many were staying overnight, and the smells of human food and waste were repulsive to him. Just as he was considering retreating to his former position to soak up what he could get without suffering from the stench, he felt something new replace the feeling he so coveted.

Recognition.

Amusement.

Strange. He scanned the area, trying to find the person he was after. Then he saw her. She was gorgeous. All curls and bare feet and flowers and beads and sweat. Beautiful. And she was looking right at him. Twirling a piece of hair around her finger, wearing a knowing smirk. She strode towards him purposefully, stopping only inches from where he stood. He was frozen with shock. He was sure he'd never come across her before. He would remember, after all.

"Hey there, Cowboy."

She said it with a smile, and a hint of flirtation. He was surprised to be addressed as such. For as much as he blended in with the scenery, he was never one to completely abandon his roots. Most that he encountered were too intoxicated or unobservant to notice such a detail as the boots he wore.

"Howdy, Sunshine."

She blushed at his drawl. She confounded him with her boldness and embarassment. Two halves battling for dominance, and both winning.

He moved in closer, waiting for the fear and apprehension that should be surfacing. If she were of a clear head, her instincts would tell her to avoid him.

Lust.

Anticipation.

Not what he was expecting.

"Let's not play games, Cowboy. I know what you are. You won't scare me away, or charm me into anything."

Well, that he certainly could do, although it was only due to his particular 'gift' that he was so enabled. He was not, however, inclined to manipulate this woman. She greatly intrigued him. With that statement, she grabbed him by the hand and began to lead him across the field. They entered a small tent, and her scent was nearly overwhelming inside. It had others mingled in with it, both male and female. That was alright with him. The 'free love' ideology that was so popular now suited his needs just fine. He rarely needed to extend any effort in seducing women into seclusion anymore. Occasionally, he would partake of their offerings before he drank. The few minutes that he would spend in their embrace were the only companionship he'd had over the years.

As soon as the flaps closed behind them, she was pressing her mouth to his, grabbing his arms to pull him further in. His need was heightened by hers, and they were each feeding off of the other's desire. He was relentless in his taking, and she reveled in his abandon. Afterward, he refrained from draining her, much preferring her presence to her blood. Soon returned the sense of peace that had drawn him to her in the first place. She had no worries or obligations to weigh her mind, and was constantly pleased with her life.

She spoke to him of how she came to be there. Dissatisfied and rebellious, she left home at 15, in the back of a van belonging to a man she had just met. She spent 4 years traveling the country in whatever way she could, soaking up as much life and culture as was out there for the taking. She had spent some time with a band of gypsies, and had learned of his kind through their legends. She secretly always hoped to meet one of them; to find something new to learn about. He told her about his past, as a soldier in two armies. How he came to leave his former life behind to seek out something different.

He greatly enjoyed her company and fresh perspective, and could tell the sentiment was reciprocated. The thought if leaving here, alone again, caused him pain. He didn't want to give up the feelings that she was stirring in him. He stood and offered his hand. As she took it, he led her out of the encampment, into the unoccupied land beyond. They stopped walking once they reached the cover of the trees. He faced her, and pressed a hand to her cheek. He rested his own cheek on the other side, and spoke quietly into her ear.

"Stay with me."

Happiness.

Affection.

Not love. Not yet. That would come with time. But from the smile he could feel on her face, to the joy he felt radiating off of her, he knew he had his answer. He kissed her once softly on the lips, then moved to her neck. Her hand grasped his tightly against her face. He picked her up and ran with her as the screaming began.