From the shadows he watched her, noting the subtle swing of her hips beneath the white dress which clung snugly to her curves. Her heels clattered on the wooden planks as she crossed the dock. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings -- a potentially dangerous attitude in this part of town.

He followed at a discreet distance, careful not to attract her attention. The sound of her heels beat a counterpoint to the pounding of his heart, and he licked his lips in anticipation. It had been weeks since he'd taken a victim.

On this, his first night in Collinsport, that was about to change.

Silent as a shadow, he trailed the woman as she moved along the dark streets. It was after midnight, and few people ventured from the safety of their snug homes on such a black night.

When they came to the cave-dark opening of a narrow alley between deserted buildings, he made his move.

With the efficiency of long practice, he seized her from behind. One calloused hand covered her mouth, muffling her startled gasp. He pulled her roughly into the alley.

The darkness was redolent of the stench of brine and stale urine, a muddle of foul odors. A sliver of stubborn moonlight penetrated the gloom to fall across her upturned face as he pinned her against the wall.

Her eyes were wide, pupils nearly engulfing the irises. In the moonlight it was hard to tell, but he thought her eyes were blue.

Craving her terror, he leered at her. Freeing one hand, he fumbled at the low neck of her dress. "Go on, baby," he urged in a coarse whisper. "Fight me all you want. I like it."

She twisted in his arms, as if in response to his mockery.

"Oh, yeah," he encouraged her, licking his lips again. "That's the way...Struggle!"

Her hands were small, fine-boned, and delicate. He chuckled when she reached up and grasped his broad shoulders, her slender fingers digging into his flesh. The chuckle became a stunned yelp when she spun him bodily around -- and slammed his back into the wall. Hard. Brick scraped roughly at his skin through the cheap polyester of his shirt.

He gaped at the woman, who barely came up to his shoulder.

This wasn't supposed to happen...

She smiled, revealing long white fangs.

He tried to scream, but all that emerged was a thin wail. His brain ordered his suddenly paralyzed body to run, but his limbs wouldn't respond. He could only stare at those horrible, inhuman teeth.

"Go on, baby," she purred, her blue eyes mocking him. She laughed, fangs flashing in the moonlight. "Struggle. I like it."

She laughed again...

...and went hungrily for his throat.

----------------------------