The Hunter and the Vampire
As innocent as a hunter’s adolescence could be, anyway.
The vampire lurched towards me, his canines distended far below his lips and bared in a gruesome snarl. His dark face was scarred, the white lines stark against his brown skin, and I sidestepped his attack neatly. My boots crushed more glass beneath my feet, and then I was spinning through the air, swinging back towards the old lady vampire and retrieving my stake. In one clean, swift movement I yanked it free, and rammed it through the scarred vampire’s heart.
Bab Populer