All the Lonely People
“Look at all the lonely people,” Jake Mackenzie mused as the beat of the music pounded in time with my heart. Not that he could tell you who was playing. Some young rock group, pouring their hearts into music that no one was really paying much attention to.
The tune seemed somewhat familiar to him, but the group at best needed more rehearsal time, more likely a different career. The smoke from cigarettes, legal and not so legal filled his nostrils and clouded his vision. It was your typical crowded bar scene. Loud and annoying, the perfect place for Jake to be, he thought with a smile.
Jake leaned up against the bar and watched as the bartender cheated the drunk or high customers. A very aggressive young entrepreneur, he mused with a silent chuckle. He should go far, assuming that he didn’t cheat the wrong individual.
Listening in on snippets of conversations, Jake heard young couples flirting, business deals from the hit of some amazing strain of weed or pills, all the way up to the promise of ‘very’ enjoyable companionship.
“This was Satan’s place,” he thought, “and I blended in perfectly.”
Without turning around, he knew she had arrived. He could smell the musky, yet alluring fragrance of her perfume. Her stilettos clicked seductively with each footfall as she approached the bar.
Jake knew much about her; her favorite drink, what she smoked, even what she liked for breakfast. He felt that he had known her for years, but had never before met her.
Jake did not stalk this young woman. He did, but not for the reasons you may think. Not lust for the curves of her body, sumptuous as they may be. The delicate, tanned skin soft to the touch, held no allure to him. This young creature was desirable to look at, and many a man would gladly go home with this young blonde.
Scantily dressed in her tight outfit designed to attract men and to tease them with views of her flesh, her goal was to entice and frustrate. Yes, any man would find her a tasty morsel.
Well, so did Jake, however, not for the same reasons.
She was his prey. Tonight this young woman would be Jake’s to dine on.
She thought that tonight, she was the beast, the hunter. Little did she know she was the hunted.
A month ago, Jake had feasted on her friend. It was a joke of a hunt, to be honest, Jake had expected more of a fight from the bodybuilder, the self-styled, ‘macho’ man.
Laughingly, he was by far one of the easiest. Jake’s heart was set on a sort of a match; the victim’s supposed martial arts prowess against Jake’s supernatural ones. It never even got that far. One flash of Jake’s fangs and he was begging for mercy.
He even offered to help Jake get his friends in exchange for his life. The man had seen too many vampire flicks, Jake needed no Renfield. Even had Jake a need for one he scoffed, it would not be him. Through his blood, Jake knew everything he did.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.