-<Matt's POV>-

I opened the door to the place I once called home, the door creaking open eerily. Darting inside, I stayed to the shadows, attempting not to be seen in case anyone was awake. It was nearly midnight, a crescent moon curving gracefully in the sky, providing little light to the ground it shone upon. Perfect night for a snack.

My red eyes narrowed hungrily, my mouth curving into a grin. Sharp white fangs poked through my slit-like smile, my ginger hair spiking back perfectly, providing the perfect frame for my pale white face. At least, I thought it was perfect. That's what it looked like on the missing posters I guessed were me. My new black hoodie helped most of my body to blend in, dark blue jeans and violet sneakers finishing the outfit.

I snuck through the house, through the living room and the hallway, spotting the first door. Human smell was strong behind it, making my mouth water. Fresh meat... I cautiously reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door to see a bedroom. A brunette haired boy slept in a bed with green sheets, his tan skin complementing well with his hair color. He was only visibly wearing a white T-shirt, the rest of his body covered with a heavy green blanket. He was fast asleep. Perfect...

I felt my grin widen as I approached him, almost drooling at the aroma of his blood. I could almost taste it already. My red eyes widened excitedly as I leaned over the human, jaws opening hungrily. Sweet livestock, you will not be wasted...

"Hey! Who are you?!" The sharp voice startled me, and I turned to see a man with spiky golden brown hair, his eyes black sockets. He had a British accent, and wore a black tank top with blue boxers. He was holding a harpoon in his right hand, glaring directly at me.

He flinched, however, as I turned to face him. His face twisted with shock, and I cringed as he spoke again. "M-Matt? What are you-"

Not allowing him to speak anymore, I hissed maliciously, leaping at him, mouth gaping revealing frightening fangs. He didn't expect this, as he barely had time to hold up the cold metal spear before I shoved I'm down. Holding the rod to my chest and pushing me away, I staggered backwards, a little stunned. Damn livestock! You ruined my meal!

And now your going to die for it...

(Word count: 414 [not including this.])