He had no idea who he was fucking with.

No fucking idea.

I noticed him about five blocks-or fifteen minutes- away from home.

He clocked me, that was for sure.

Something about my face, my body, or maybe my walk gave me away. No matter which; he’d seen my secret shame some how.

The local news had been giving him press for weeks and it was clearly encouraging him. Stories of a man following women like me home. Stalking his victims late at night. Creeping behind them in the shadows as they made their was home from work, nights out with friends, even late night runs.

Grimy fucker. They called him a predator. I called that a generous analysis. A predator hunts in daylight. A scavenger would have been a more apt description of this weak little boy’s skill.

The police sketch was fairly accurate. Five nine, dark hair, round face.

Knife in his sleeve.

I could smell his sweat even at fifty yards. Drenched in fear and excitement. He was ready to pounce.

To his dismay, I never intended to lead him to my home. After an hour of twists and turns, I began to slow.

Letting him close the distance.

That’s right you little shit. Get closer, I want to taste your fear. I thought to myself.

He hadn’t even an inkling that his reign of terror would end that night. At the hands of the very same type of woman he’d been victimizing for years.

Well, not exactly the same. I’m not entirely human.

He drew near, his scent becoming stronger and stronger until-

Hello, can I help you

I snarled at him through gritted teeth, growing longer and sharper as I spoke.

My head snapped around as he drew back with his blade.

Fear filling his eyes, which were locked on my rows of razor sharp hollow fangs.

Yes that’s right, you should be very afraid. You’ve been hunting transwomen, and you’ve found another. Tonight though, tonight you’re my victim.

His fear tasted delightful, a delicacy as my fangs sunk deep into his neck. Releasing a paralyzing venom into his blood stream.

I released his neck from my horrific maw. He fell to the ground unable to breathe, let alone scream.

Are you scared? I asked rhetorically as scared as those women you murdered? You should be. You’re going to feel every second of this.

I delivered another vicious bit to his neck, swallowing the chunk I tore from it hole. Then again and again, all over his body. Slurping down his blood, his muscle, his sinew. The sweet taste of fear perfectly seasoning every bite.

When I was done, not even bones remained. I never waste a good meal.

The moral of the story? Don’t fuck with a woman walking home alone at night. You never know what secrets she might be hiding.

She may even be a vampire.