Proloque

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I walked through the dark streets of my hometown. I was on a hunt. That's when I saw him. A person walking down the street. I'd have to make this quick. As they walked by, I pulled them into the shadows, covering their mouth. I sunk my fangs into their skin, knocking them out before taking their blood. Once full, my fangs retracted. I turned the person around. He was young, early twenties. He had short, spiky brown hair, and tan skin. I slowly moved my hand over his face, wiping his memories. No one shall know of my deadly secret.

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I prowled through the woods, smelling the air. A lone buck, a mile away. I transformed. It was painful, but I needed food. I found the deer, and pounced. My canine teeth pierced through the it's hide. I cut the  throat immediately, wanting it to die quickly. I felt the pulse weaken, then die out. I ate the deer, leaving behind only, now clean, bones, and a clawed up hide. I howled, the moon above me. I smelled the fresh Irish air. Time to go home.

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