The Vampire

She walks along,

the poor ususpecting soul.

He walks in the shadows,

not a blade of grass misshapen.

He moves swiftly in the night,

the black of night seals her doom.

With lightning speed,

he grabs her hips,

and presses her body to his.

With a scream,

she tries to break free,

but the Vampire is thirsty for blood.

He moves her hair,

touching lips to neck,

as if teasing before he kills.

She cries as he bites,

pain flowing inside,

as salty blood goes down his throat.

With a lick of his lips,

he tosses her aside,

and flees to the shadows of dark