It was dark. Dazai a supposed vampire young bloodthirsty, had come on a full moon for a human. People who know you, sacrifice a human every full moon for you to feed on, so you don't attack them. What they don't know is that you never kill them. You don't need that much blood to live. In the small wooden hut, soft sobs emerged. The voice was soft and shaky, probably about 13 years old. Dazai walks over and opens the wooden door and saw a red haired boy, curled up on the floor, beaten and bruised.