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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Gothic · #977670
I had written this as an english assigment. I did fairly well with it.
         Ah, would you look at that. It's going to be a perfect night tonight; clear navy skies, no wind and the early night stars. I wonder where I shall go this evening. To the plaza? To the cemetery? No. They will be too crowded. I don't need any witnesses, though I am always careful and no one ever sees me.
         I must remember to walk at a slow steady pace so I won't draw attention to myself; just appear as an everday mortal, except without the same boring bright fashions. I love my trench. It's almost like a cape when I get walking at my normal pace. As soon as it gets a little darker I will be able to blend in with the shadows save for my face and hands, but that will be fixed as soon as I find someone who is worth of the kiss of death. Haha, why don't I just call myself the Reaper. We have basically the same job; we both bring about death, though I can't help it. My lust for blood is very strong tonight, but it is quite reasonable, I have been dormant for six months.
          Hmm, I think I will head to the back streets and hunt for a criminal at the peak of his crime.
         My physical state is as it has always been, no changes, but I knew that were wasn't going to be any. My hair still as long and straight as always, my eyes still piercing blue since the day I was born, and my height is the same as it was the day I died.
         Better take a left here. Was that the sound of glass breaking a few blocks ahead? I must be. My hearing is sharper than ever. I can hear the river far off to the east, as well as the crowds that are still milling about at this hour at the Eiffel Tower. There doesn't seem to be anyone in sight. Even the rodents have found their havens. They must sense that evil is approaching. I am not evil. Just perceived as such. Stupid humans. Don't know any better. The one time I was witnessed indulging myself, I was called Satan and the work of evil. They saw my dark side for only a few seconds before they died. I had to make them pay for what they saw. I didn't want to, but it was inevitable. Don't need my little secret getting out. To the Parisians I am a wealthy and well-respected art collector that goes about business all day. If they were to find out about my secret life I would have to move cities again. I hate to move, especially once I have established so much. The life of a vagabond is only so good for so long.
         Someone's steady footfall has turned into an all out run. This is where I come in. Best to stop him in his tracks.
         Why hello there helpless criminal. Prepared to be sacrificed? You look so scared. You should be now that you are in my hands. The cops are nothing compared to me. Better pull him over to the dark alley over there. Pace yourself. If you are over eager you will kill him too soon.
         "Any last words?"
         Oh how I love the feeling of my incisors breaking the flesh and the first drops of blood hitting my tongue. His steady heartbeat is so hypnotizing. His blood is so warm. I can feel it moving through my skin; warming every cell, bringing temporary life to my otherwise cold pale skin. This man deserves to die. Look at his life. Thievery and murder sprinkled throughout it. It's appalling. Focus on the steady heartbeat mingling with your own. Focus on the blood flowing from him to you. Mm, that sweet copper that has been denied from my lips. He is near death. Close up the wound and drag him behind the dumpster. Take his loot and find another victim.
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