Seline Pov:
"Who are you?" a voice stutters as I approach.
It is dark, and the man cannot see me, but I see him. Yes, I see how he quivers, nervous breathing, clutching onto a knife in his pocket, hearing his heart beat like that of a gazelle at the sight of a lion, how he licks his lips as adrenalin courses through his veins. His dark skin is illuminated only barely in the moonlight that is found in the alleyway where I cornered him on his way home from work.
He stayed out late, drinking with friends, but I suppose that is better than beating his wife, which I see plays through his mind. He prays for god, for mercy, for forgiveness, and in the dark recesses of his mind, I see lost hope, acceptance, and past all that, I see something I do not see often: the eagerness to die. An eagerness that will be met with hunger, a thirst for him. No, not him, but of what he possesses within him.
"You want to know who I am." I asked, my voice low in my throat, my lips barely moving.
"Yes." Came the deep reply, a voice tinged in fear, echoing from the dark that surrounded me, me and my victim.
"I am the dark. I am the fearful and the feared. I am the stranger you meet on the subway, or your best lover. I am the pet you lost as a child, or the promotion you got at work. I am the light you walk in, or the shadows you fear. I am an angel, and I am a demon. I am fear itself, or I could be the most loved. I am you mother, your father, your sister and brother, your friends, pets, favorite items, I am your enemy, your hate, your fear, and I can be you. I am everything and everyone, and I am nothing… some call me Seline. Seline Ever Night, and you may call me death." I replied, lunging at the owner of the voice, biting into the warm dark flesh that housed my meal, the red droplets that thundered in stampeding bursts through blue veins, the life force of creatures on this planet.
The man screams, clawing at me as if to tear my fangs from his throat, as if that would save him; I only clutch him tighter to my person, snapping his spine so he can no longer flail. I hear his pitiful gasping of oxygen, knowing that will stop soon, continue drinking. Mouthfuls of this life bearing liquid sear down my throat and into my stomach, and what cannot be swallowed stains my lips a crimson red in the pale moonlight. His heart thumps wildly, but then; it stops before giving several pitiful, weak thumps and falls silent again.
The man is dead, the wound on his neck clean, and with one lick, seals to leave no scar or evidence save a single drop of blood, the last blood of this mortal mans' body. I lick this too, and all liquid is gone, housed within my own stomach, quickly being digested for nutrients to support and fuel my own person another day or two. I bring the cooling body to the receptacle the mortals use for recycling, setting him in, and setting the paper around ablaze, it making short work of the fuel of paper, and the body its-self. I lick my lips, my tongue catching the cooled traces of the man as I watch his body sear out of existence before me. I watch only for a moment more, and turn on my heel, walking into the shadows, out of sight, out of mind they always say.
I suppose I should feel sorrow, regret or remorse; but I feel nothing but content. Nothing but the satisfaction of a huntress finding and killing her prey, of cleaning the mess, and for saving humanity from another hold back it has to offer. I have freed the man of his sins, if you are religious, but I am not; I see him as the monster: wife beater, rapist, drug addict and a drunkard. I see him with no future, and therefore, no present. Not anymore. No, I feel nothing from killing him, I do feel for the pain I have endured, or rather, will endure, to his wife, his loving, devoted wife that has done nothing to earn his wrath, and in retrospect, my own.
I am the night, I am the shadows, the one last night an unfortunate-or fortunate- might see. I am Seline Ever Night, and I am a Vampire.