it was dark. You, a so called blood thirsty vampire, had come on the full moon for a human. People knowing of you, sacrifice one human every full moon for your feeding, so you don’t attack them. Little do they know, you never kill them. You don’t need that much blood to live. In the small wooden shack, soft sobbing emerged. The voice was gentle and shaky, likely about 16 years old. You opened the wooden door, and saw a blue haired boy, curled up on the floor there, beaten and bruised.