"BOYS OF THE NIGHT - #3"



The moonlight streamed through the hotel's sixth story window. Kevin's coal-black eyes slowly opened. His face was buried in a an oversized pillow, while his lean body was engulfed in a sea of blankets and silk sheets. He groaned and turned onto his back lazily, wrapping the soft coverings tightly around his body. A long-fingered hand came up to run itself through carelessly touseled black hair and his gaze fell to the glowing numbers next to his bed.
10 o'clock PM; he'd slept in again.
"Shit," he moaned, slamming down the alarm clock that was on snooze. He sighed indifferently. There was a lot more night to go. Still enough time to have a little fun.
He stretched and smiled contentedly in the warmth of the bed as he stared at the white speckled ceiling. Kevin loved this hotel room. He rented it out every time they were in town. The place was massive. The bed was covered in black and red silk sheets, blankets, and pillows - fit for royalty. A large jacuzzi was set into the marbled floor completely, so that until he was about to walk over the edge of it, he had no clue it was even there. Scented black and red candles were set out along the edges of everything, casting an eerie glow to the room and filling it with the aroma of a musky frangrance called 'Dark Desires.' Kevin had very picky taste. Also very expensive. He'd lived the high life for 228 years; he wasn't about to stop now just because he was a busy Backstreet Boy.
He rolled out of bed and walked over to the huge bay windows on the other side of the expansive room. His tall, sinewy body glistened in the moon rays as the skin on his lengthy muscles was pulled taut over them. He was a glorious Ventru, so sophisticated and business-like. He was darkly colored all over, hairless, smooth, beautiful. Kevin looked to his left, spotting the full-length mirror on the other side of the room. He stared at himself proudly, admiring his body slowly, savoring his own pride. A small chuckle escaped his throat as he thought of the myth of vampires not being seen in mirrors. "Oh, the lies...," he laughed quietly, thinking of how disappointing his life would be if the the myth was the truth.
He pulled on a pair of boxers and edged closer to the windows that over looked New York City. Gently, he braced his body up with his palms, pressed against the thick glass. His once black eyes turned an alluring shade of grey-green as they scanned the city, his hawk-like vision seeing everything that was going on below. The bright lights of NYC were shrouded in a thin mist, dulling them on that fall evening.
Another night . . . alone, he thought, depressed. No one filled his bed last night, nor the night before that. His soul belonged to his mate, but his body belonged to no one. Kevin stared at a tattoo parlor and wondered what his hunting partner, AJ, was up to. Probably something horrible . . . something sick. He smiled at the thought. But the happiness was momentary - fleeting. It was lonely being a solitary hunter. And tonight, he would have to eat. It would be a week tomorrow since he'd last killed.
The city's bright lights drew Kevin's attention. His eyes immediately searched the dark streets for a meal. On a corner down near Park Avenue, a lone prostitute stood.
His mouth twisted into a huge smile that eventually grew so large, his fangs were openly exposed.
"Hello," he said to himself. Darting away from the window, he pulled on a pair of jeans that were lying around and then his favorite Polo shirt. He grabbed his keys and ran out the door, locking it securely behind him.

"Jesus Christ, Dan. That's horrible. Get it out of here!" shouted one of the swarming cops. The sun was now up in the early morning sky, casting light everywhere. The unfortunate hooker's body had been found by a homeless man digging for food in a trash bin. Her dried up corpse was being wheeled away on a stretcher to the coroner's office. A crowd of people had gathered at the site, hoping to catch a glimpse of the body for some sick kick that most get at staring at a car wreck or at a funeral procession.
Among these avid onlookers, a tall, dark man stood. His sunglasses were thick and black, blocking out the sun's light all together. His long black trench coat seemed out of place among the others as it flapped silently in the breeze of the early fall morning.
He was puzzled by humans. After all, it had been over 200 years since he'd been one. People were so eager to see and hear about death in movies and in real life, yet they feared it, and fought it to the end when it came down to facing it themselves. Kevin shook his head, confused. Not spending any more time contemplating the life and beliefs of people - whom he viewed as something equal to a large herd of cattle - he walked off into the distance, hoping to catch the hotdog vender before he got too far down the street.