Don’t Talk To Strangers

She’s rather easy to spot, all alone on the street in her red hoodie, ear buds in her ears. She’s practically doing everything they tell people not to do; singling herself out, not paying attention to her surroundings.  “It’s almost too easy,” The man thinks as he follows hers in his car, staying just enough behind that he doesn’t seem suspicious.  He drives a little closer and calls out, “Hey, little girl!” Even though she’s not all that little.  She looks to be about twelve, rough estimate.

She turns to face him, looking at him with bright blue eyes, huge and innocent-looking, practically screaming, I’m  vulnerable and can’t hurt anyone.  She takes her ear buds out and asks, “What?”

“What are you doing out here, all by yourself?” He replies, feigning concern, and doing a great of job of it if he did say so himself.

“I’m just walking home.” The girl says looking like a deer in the headlights, “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“Never said you were, darling,” The man chuckles.

The girl starts walking again and he starts driving again, asking, “So, where do you live?”

“William’s street.” The girl answers.

“What do you know,” The man responds, acting surprised, “That’s where I’m heading. “Then, as if the idea had just come to him, he says, “Say, why don’t I give you a lift?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”  The girl says tentatively.  She’s probably had it pounded in her head her whole life not to get in the car with strangers.

“Look, Williams Street is another four blocks.” The man reasoned.

She’s clearly tempted by it now; he can tell she’s thinking on it. At last, she says, “Alright.” She runs to the door and opens it, saying as she gets in. “I’m Honoria, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Honoria.” The man said in his friendliest manner, “My name’s Wolf.”

Honoria laughs a bit, saying, “Of course it is.”

#

They drive for about five minutes then Wolf makes a right turn, which is not the way to Williams Street. Wolf expects his victim-to-be to start freaking out as she realizes what’s happened, but instead, she calmly says, “You know, Wolf, I’m surprised you didn’t wonder about my name. Why it’s so old fashioned.”

Wolf blinked. “Okay, I’ll bite,” He says, deciding to remain cordial, “Why is it so old-fashioned?”

Honoria turned her head to look at Wolf and says coolly, “Because I’m older than I look.”  Then she smiled, revealing a mouth with two rows of pointy fangs.

#

Honoria watched from a distance when the police find Wolf’s car, and his mangled body.  Watching their baffled expressions as they wondered how the stab wounds on the neck produced so little blood never got old.

Of course, they’ll figure out that all the stab wounds were postmortem eventually. But they’ll never figure out it was just to hide the bite marks.

There were very few benefits to being a 150-year-old vampire stuck in a body of a pre-teen.  One of those ways hunting was almost unbelievably easy.  One look and people automatically wanted to help her.  Except for of course, those who wanted to hurt her.

And that was the type of prey she preferred.

It was simple logic really; she got to eat, and she did a public service.  Wolf wasn’t the first prey she had hunted, and he wouldn’t be the last.

Deciding to leave before she was noticed, Honoria but her headphones in and walked off. She really did need to be getting home.