I cannot make you fall in love with me. If I made you fall in love, it would be fake or forced. I want it to be genuine and real.
The smell burned the man's nose as he walked through the dark halls. Why do these people have to be Italian? the man questioned, covering his face with his cloak. At the end of the hallway there was a door with a small pool of light illuminating the wooden floors of the townhouse. Silently, the cloaked man glided his way across the floor toward the light. The smell became sweet, his nose twitched. A thin smile spread across his face as a surge of power ripped through his body. He came to a stop, just mere inches from the door. Long pale fingers crept out from the cloak towards the door handle and closed themselves around the cold metal. Skillfully, the man opened the door allowing the light to fall across his body. The woman sitting up in her bed reading did not notice him, "go away Jimmy" she said, annoyed, and without looking up from her book.
"I'm not Jimmy," the man replied before lunging across the room to the woman.
A muffled shriek slammed out of the woman's mouth as the man's hand clasped itself across her face. The man's eyes turned red, and his sharp teeth morphed into long fangs protruding from his gums. All he could see was various shades of red as his animalistic instincts kicked in. He wanted food. He wanted her blood.
Laughing, he bit down on her throat, piercing her skin and allowing the warm blood to trickle down his throat. The woman's struggle became obsolete as the rush of adrenline and power increased with each bite. Her kicking became weaker as her life was beginning to fade.
When the man drank his fill, he sat up reached for the blanket and cleaned his face the best he could. He felt powerful and he wanted more. Quickly turning around he jumped off the bed and dashed out of the room searching for his next victim. Apparently that would be Jimmy. Jimmy was already asleep in his bed, blankets pulled up to his chin. The light was out, but the moon was illuminating the room. Again, the man opened the door and pushed his way into the room. He stood still, cold, yet he could feel the blood rushing around his body, I want you he thought as he looked at the boy. Moving closer he reached out for the boy's throat and closed his hand around the boy's neck. His long fingernails cut into his throat. Jimmy's eyes shot open in horror just as the man threw himself foward to sink his teeth into the boy. The boy reached for something on the table, but it was easily knocked away by the man who had a deathgrip on Jimmy's throat. Jimmy was growing weak, tired, and eventually the man felt Jimmy's body go limp as he drained the last of his blood.
The man stood up looking at his handiwork before turning to finish the job. Now all I need to do is light this place up and pretend nothing happened. Which is exactly what he did. The man went to the kitchen and unscrewed the cover of a lightswitch, exposing the wires and held a match to the wire until a spark ignited a fire. The man stood up and waited for the fire to spread before making his exit into the dark.
When the man woke up the next day, he went to the door to retrieve the local newspaper. The headline read, "Another Fire Destroys Townhouse." The thin smile appeared across the man's face. I enjoy reading my handiwork in the newspaper he thought before closing the door behind him. The man walked into his kitchen, "Breakfast dear?" his wife asked, smiling from the stove. Eggs and bacon. It's absolutely disgusting. "No thanks sweetie. I'm trying to watch my figure," replied the man as he sat down at the table. "I'll just take some toast."
"Daddy!" a small voice exclaimed from the next room, "come watch this video with me! It's funny!"
"Alright sweetie! I'll be there in a minute." The man got up, walked over to his wife and embraced her in a deep kiss. "Did you put garlic on the eggs again?" The man asked, recoiling with controlled disgust. "You know I always do," she replied. "And now you know why I don't like your eggs," the man laughed before turning away and exiting the room. If you weren't my wife you'd be dead.