Hunter, like most vampires, enjoyed blood. If you were to ask him, he would tell you
how blood tasted almost exactly like honey. On this Sunday morning, Hunter had just finished
drinking the blood of a college student, when he remembered he needed milk.
Hunter lived in a small town called St.Coldsville and, like the name suggested, it was a
cold place. Freshly fallen snow covered the houses and nearby cars. All of the cars were black
SUVs. All the houses were tan two-story houses with a front yard that was covered in snow. It
was all very bland and monotonous, but Hunter liked it that way. Over the years the world had
changed so much, but St.Coldsville stayed plain, St.Coldsville.
The vampire boy walked into the shopping center that included all the stores that were in
the town, which was only 20. He had planned to go to his local supermarket, the only one in
St.Coldsville. Hunter was seconds away from walking into the store when something new caught
his attention. It was a bakery. The bakery had always been there of course, since St.Coldville
never changed, Hunter, for some reason, had never noticed it before.
"Sinclair's," he read aloud.
And even though Hunter disliked new things, he found himself walking towards the bakery and
into the front doors.
In the small bakery there was a couple at every single table except one. Hunter took a seat
at the empty table and pulled out his sketchbook. Even though the bakery was so crowded, the
shop was surprisingly quiet. Hunter liked it this way. Loud places made his head hurt.
