Justice

It's been three weeks. Three weeks since I've started this hunt. Normally my targets consist of teenagers and young women as they are more apt to follow a child on a search for her mommy. All that is required of me are a few tears and pleas for help. Sometimes, however, I find a new target. One that is as deserving of death as I am willing to give it.

This particular target's name is Otto Fischer. A big, burly guy that has been convicted of three counts of child molestation. Hidden in the tattoos along his arms are nine small red hearts, each representing a young girl that he'd preyed upon — that is six more than he's been charged with. The only thing about this creature that isn't despicable is his scent. The smell of his blood is like a beacon to me, so rich and sweet that I would be incapable of resisting it on an empty stomach.

A sudden sound jerks me back to the present.

There he is, right on time. Every evening at eight o'clock sharp, Otto emerges from his shabby excuse for a house to walk to The Red Door, a bar located three blocks away. Silent as a shadow, I dart past Otto and duck into an alleyway a few yards ahead of him. Quickly, I work up a good cry, allowing him to hear my quiet sobs. Otto's footsteps falter as he eyes the dark passage.

"Hello?" he asks, interest in his voice. "You okay?"

Feigning fear and hesitance, I slowly shuffle into the dim light of the street lamp. Just as I knew they would, the man's eyes light up with need. I carefully conceal the disgust I feel as he takes in my appearance: a small, slightly mussed, girl dressed in leggings and sneakers with a t-shirt dress. Judging by his expression, however, one might assume he's found a winning lottery ticket.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he says softly. "Where's your mommy and daddy?"

I shrug my small shoulders. He takes a step toward me and seems pleased when I don't retreat.

"How about you come back to my house and we'll call your mom?" he suggests, resting his hand on my shoulder. Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I agree. Otto engulfs my tiny hand in his and leads me back the way he'd come.

"My name's Otto," he says amicably. "What's yours?"

"V-Venessa," I stutter weakly, glancing up at him through my lashes. He squeezes my hand and says what a pretty name mine is. I grind my teeth and thank him.

As we walk the short distance, I stare at his heavily tattooed arm. I can see the veins rippling under the skin and my jaw aches. His scent is nearly overwhelming and I can finally force my gaze away as he opens the front door.

"My phone's right back here," he instructs, pulling me through a surprisingly neat living room and down a short hallway toward a closed door. I comply and wait patiently for him to open it. As he does, he gestures for me to go ahead of him, pushing lightly on the small of my back, stroking my hair as he does so.

As I pass him, I finally allow my canines to elongate. I feel them press into my lower lip and I part them slightly. I wait for Otto to close the door and turn to face him. He doesn't notice my fangs immediately and reaches a hand down to touch my chin.

"You really are a doll," he says. Then his brows furrow as he looks at my mouth. "What the hell?"

I grin up at him, flashing my teeth in a predatory grimace. Fear and uncertainty take over his features as he backs toward the door.

"You hurt those other girls, Otto," I growl, advancing on him slowly. "I am a literal creature of the night, yet you still find a way to stoop beneath me. Preying on little girls is demons' work."

I listen to Otto's heart beat faster and faster until his breath becomes ragged. He steadily walks backward until he hits the door.

"What are you?" he demands, his face pale.

"Your worst nightmare," I answer with a chuckle. I open my mouth wide as I pounce onto the terrified man. He tries to scream as I sink my fangs into the soft flesh of his throat but my hand under his jaw keeps his mouth shut. He tries in vain to fight me off, but my strength is too much for him. I swallow mouthful after mouthful of his rich blood until his struggles become weak. When there is nothing left to take, I allow the body to drop onto the floor with a thud.

As I watch, the twin wounds on his neck seal themselves. I swipe a hand over my lips and dig a hand into the pocket of my dress, pulling out a small vial. Very carefully, I remove the cork and drip two drops of the liquid onto Otto's body. Immediately, the exsanguinated flesh begins to sizzle and smoke. Finally, I turn away. The window lifts open without a sound and I quietly leap through, closing it behind me. When I'm nearly fifty yards away, the flickering light of a massive fire illuminates the pavement around me.

Sometimes being a vampire, cursed to eternally walk the earth as a child, isn't so bad.