The human chilled me to the bone.

The three year old, following his mother, sat down on the stool barely one meter away from me with a big smile on his face and jerked his head around metro, looking curiously at everything and anything. Terrible! I didn’t want him to look at me. I stood stiller then a statue and stared into a point of darkness, praying that he wouldn’t look at me.

His eyes glazed over me and a jolt of energy shot down my spine. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt this child in any way, but I knew that was exactly what would happen if he made a comment about me or pointed at me. I’d have to respond and the hate filling me would spill out somehow. I can barely keep it under control, every third second my face jerks a little bit, or my hands clench. Being surrounded by humans didn’t do good for me.

But he was just a child, and he didn’t deserve that.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like this by choice. I’d love to be charismatic and slick like Dracula but I feel like I’m stuck. I don’t really have any friends. Any time I speak to somebody their either screaming or running or bleeding out to death. I’m socially isolated, living alone, just a blood-craven vampire.

His eyes stay on me for too long. I wonder what he’s thinking of, perhaps it’s my height and size, or perhap’s my bleak, ghost white face, or my blood red lips. Just don’t make a comment kid for both our sakes.

Images of slaughtering humans come into my mind. I liked them, because humans as I saw it, were creatures filled with insecurities, and jealousy and hatred and greed. Each time I’ve opened myself up to a human they’ve bitten in my that’s leaved me aching for months after. My bites aren’t even that bad.

But this child didn’t have any of that, not yet at least. The only thing in his eyes were curiosity.

But please don’t start a conversation with me. That will only lead to you getting hurt kid.

A shape sitting in the corner of the metro caught my sight. It’s another monster. I suck the blood out of humans. She sucks the souls out of them, gives them depression, ruins their personality, and she’s staring intently at the little kid, drolling at the prospect of tasting his sweet personality. She’s a Soul Eater.

I thought about stopping her, but who would I be to say that? I kill humans on the daily. It would be too hypocritical.

Then something happened. The kid smiled at me and looked away

Suddenly, my tongue had the craving for soul eater blood.

I’m just a monster filled with hatred. I know what I am, but still, sometimes, I like to think that I’ve still got a good heart in me, no matter how twisted.