No Last Words

‘How would it be if real life was really like this? Being mean and moody, high cheeked boned, falling in love with humans and walking around in the day time’

The man was slumped in his chair in the TV room of the homeless hostel. Three of his fellow residents were fast asleep in their chairs apparently unimpressed by the film and victims of one can too many of super strength lager

‘You know why I’m here and it’s time to end this once and for all’

The visitor stepped further into the darkened room and opened the bag slung across his back. The man rose from his chair. His body, once crumpled and twisted like that of the other old street drinkers straightened up to its full height

‘At this point in the movies I’d move in a blink of an eye and we’d have a fight to the death. I would of course leave triumphant, free to pursue my life that you seem so keen to end’

He shook his body to realign bones and tendons

‘And to think it’s you who believes they have the the moral high ground and can decide upon whom our kind can and cannot feed. Really my friend anyone would think you were human’

His laughter rose in volume and stopped as abruptly as it had began

‘Let my last words be that I……’

The wooden stake that had been thrown across the room punctured his back, piercing the heart and exploding him into microscopic fragments. The floor, chairs, sleeping residents and television screen were left covered in a fine layer of dust

‘No last words’

The visitor picked up his stake, banged it on his boot and returned it to his bag. He crossed a name off of his list that he carried in a small, black notebook

Walking past the staff who were unaware of his presence he left to ensure he would miss the coming sunrise

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