Hunting

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Hunting isn't a learned skill. It's something a vampire can do instinctively. Letting the smell of human blood guide me, I darted forward on silent feet and grabbed the arm of a human male. The delicious scent of this one's blood was even better than the rest. I cared not for what he looked like, his likes and desires, what he felt as he saw me half-crazed with thirst, a goddess of death, beautiful and deadly. I was the hunter, and he was my prey. Nothing else mattered.

Just as I was about to satiate my burning thirst, the boy looked up at me. This wouldn't have mattered much, except for the fact that this boy who I was about to suck dry had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen, wide and innocent as he looked up at my face, into my blood-red eyes, the result of what I was. I expected this boy who had captured my attention to run, to cry for help, but he did neither. He looked up at me with such wonder, like I was his savior rather than a sign of his impending doom. I felt an unusual rush of... almost caring for this strange boy. I let him go, and almost flew as I ran away, finding solitude on the rooftops. 

I shook my head, trying to clear it. You idiot, Ashleigh, I thought to myself. What was wrong with me? I was the hunter, the Queen of vampires, and that boy had had the most amazing blood I had ever smelled.  Why hadn't I done it? Why hadn't I bitten, drunk my fill? That feeling, the weird rush of caring, was the reason. It was strange, but there was still nothing to stop me going back... When I imagined it, however, I found the idea intolerable.  

I found my meal sleeping underneath a bridge. They never woke up again.

I went back home and forgot about the boy with the enticing blood and beautiful eyes. I went through the motions of my daily life - Listen to annoying squabbling, resist throwing the other vampires in the fire, dismiss them when I get tired of it, search for a meal in the human world, hunt, repeat. I practically bored myself to death with my routine. 

One night after dinner, I was headed home and had to walk through a food shop. Walking past the counters, a fragrance assaulted my senses, so enticing that hunting it wasn't an option. It was necessary. I turned towards it, every part of me focused on the hunt, and I saw a flash of familiar blue eyes, filled with wonder and excitement. 

I remembered that night, the only time I had ever let my prey go. As the boy, the very same boy whose blood smelled better than the rest, who I hadn't killed, hurried towards me, I panicked. What did he want? Did he remember me, how I had almost killed him? His scent assaulted me again, commanding me to start hunting. I wanted to. More than anything, I wanted this human's blood in my mouth, on my lips, filling me, sating my thirst. No! some part of me screamed. I did not want to hurt this boy. Since I didn't have to breathe, I stopped. I wouldn't hurt him. I wanted his blood. The two were impossible to reconcile. I turned away from this delicious human, only to hear him shout at me.

"Stop!"

I froze, still not breathing. He caught up to me.

"My name is Jake, and I need to talk to you."

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