Compassion
My hands are blood-smeared, it are not my blood and I it did not also pour. This mark not. I tried to wash it off but then I stopped. Their blood reminds me of it, what happened at the last night. It is actually not strange, I knows such feelings. I kill humans, in order to drink their blood. Most die without pain. My style of people is not to be tormented. Not necessarily. But I saw too many wars. Humans are in certain respects superior to us in cruelty far. I sit here in my work room with all the books. Centuries met here. The thoughts of thousands of humans were written down and are located in the shelves such as curiosities. I think of the girl from yesterday. To their blond, soft hair and the tender face. Blue, clear eyes regarded me. It did not look into my eyes and had a fear of me. Why? Most humans see their death therein. She saw it in something different. In the measurer of a man, who erstochen it in a dirty side street has. I was not on the hunt yesterday. I spent a calm evening in a bar in the city and followed to my thoughts. It sat down to me and smiled. I sent it not away but ordered it a drink. She thanked you and conversed with me. It was pleasant. It was pleasant. We had fun together. Then a bulliger type came along and demanded it on to its table to come, the business would not wait. It did not want. It reached for its arm. It resisted. There I intervened and made clear to the man that he was unwanted. It understood first, only as I it nearly the arm fallow, did not disappear it. Their name was Anne. It was pretty and intelligent. I did not remember a minute to feed me at it. I enjoyed simply its proximity. It was warm and full lives. Their eyes radiated. Then it had on the toilet. It lasted rather for a long time. I decided to check rather. With the toilet was also the Hinterausgang. I heard loud voices from outside and followed them. In the side street behind the bar garbage cans and waste were located. The man of before it held it and insulted her violently. I became furious, wanted to place him to the speech. But I came too late. The knife was in its belly and the blood flowed from a wound. It regarded me. Fear. Not before me but before what happened now. I seized myself the types and struck him several times. Then I hurried to it. It was already because of the soil and groaned. Their blood seeped on the bitumen. “That I had differently introduced myself. I thought, if I die, then am already old I”, meant her. I stroked its cheek and answered: “I can save you, I can you unsterblich make.” “No, not so. I wanted children and grandchildren. I wanted to live my life like others also. You are a hunter of the darkness. I would not like that. If you remember me, then I will become unsterblich.” She groaned again and closed then the eyes always. Rage spread in me. I wanted to let suffer the types, him torment and kill. But that would have brought nothing. I took out my mobile phone and called the police. Then I ensured for the fact that the type could not flee. Its finger marks were on the measurer and its hands were likewise blood-smeared. Perhaps I would worry later still about him. I will never forget Anne, that I promised it. Only one night, but I had the feeling that I would know it already eternally.
