Corn Maze Menace

Edward

I ran through the countryside of North Dakota, hoping to catch a whiff of a tasty morsel. Though I primarily thrived on the local wildlife, from time to time I indulged on something sweeter – humans.

Mmm, I could almost taste the elixir and tanginess of adrenaline-enriched blood. Yes, adrenaline enhanced the sweet bouquet of a human's crimson life force.

On occasion I'd feast on those that deserved a death sentence, like murderers and rapists. Over time, however, I'd developed a bitter aftertaste from feeding on the plague of the earth. Their thoughts alone were something I'd keep for an eternity.

I allowed myself this indulgence of "falling off the wagon" once a year. I didn't hunt for humans on my birthday, since it was hardly something to celebrate.

No, I hunted humans on All Hallow's Eve.

Last year, I had fed at a co-ed party where the hosts were participating a movie night, looking for the "Best Movie Scream." No one had heard poor Ben and Angela scream as I'd drained their bodies.

What? At least I allowed them to climax. Technically, when they'd screamed they'd still been in their orgasm-induced high.

Sex – I had no taste for such an act. The only thing that brought on carnal urges was that of my bloodlust. If a grouping of deer did nothing to satiate my thirst, then I strove to find more. I preferred mountain lion anyway – much more fierce.

From the millions of thoughts I'd heard throughout my existence, I knew sex could be something pleasurable, but I'd found no one I'd want to share it with. I'd encountered others of my kind but had never sought out companionship with them. I preferred my solitude; besides, their thoughts were usually annoying.

Others of my kind had asked me why I didn't just feed solely on humans. Though I never really divulged my reasons to anyone, I had asked myself that question often. The truth of the matter was, with my gift of mind reading, I felt just as monstrous as the self-deprecating, destructive and selfish humans I fed upon.

I didn't want to face an eternity as a monster. Despite my feelings, I still couldn't go one-hundred percent vegetarian. I had no doubt that I would always be a monster, but just not twenty-four-seven.

I stopped abruptly, coming to an almost screeching halt on the fauna of the ground. I heard three distinct screams pierce the night. I listened and realized that though the screams were from fear, they also seemed somewhat subdued. It was like they were actually expecting the fear. I ran toward the screams, the forest turning to cornfields, and came upon more voices. There were several and some screeches, and I realized that they were coming from a "haunted corn maze."

Perfect.

If I searched among the locals who were paying to get scared, I'd be able to pick off a victim or two. No one would second-guess the screams. I brought in a fresh pull of air to help find a tantalizing mouthful. What I found was – perfection. It was everything and nothing.

It was everything in the way that it reminded me of my human days, where perfumed lilacs and jasmine graced my mother's garden. It was nothing, because I'd never come across a scent so invigorating and nothing would ever compare.

I stalked closer, ignoring a man dressed in a ridiculous werewolf costume. A werewolf in North Dakota, the idea was laughable. I found a group of three young women, two of which were with their dates. The fifth wheel was a pretty little thing, not much older than I'd been before my change of eighteen.

The scent wafting from her lithe form called to me in ways that none had done. I needed to savor it, because I'd never come across it again. If I had known that it existed, I would've sought it out until I found her.