Fangs. Demonic eyes. Weight on shoulders. Ground under back. "You are afraid. You have reason to be." Grin. "You fear what you can not comprehend. You fear us, call us monsters, hunt us. All because you eat plants and we eat creatures.
"You call it unnatural. Don't even comprehend how we come to be, let alone how we continue to exist. You don't even try to learn. You just judge. You are so stupid.
"But that doesn't matter to me; I just feed on you ponies. You see me as a monster, I see myself as a monster. You despise me because I eat you, I love you because you taste delicious.
"I am no hero. I am the very anti-thesis of a hero. And I love it! Being evil I so much more fun! I can do what I want and there's no concrete way to stop me without killing me!
"I am crazy. I am evil. I am a monster. I am a vampony. And you are my food!" Lunge. Blackness. Death.
I join the back of the crowd, still licking my chops after the meal. "Had a good breakfast?" asks my "friend", snapping me out of my revere.
"Oh, yeah, I did." I nod to the crowd, knowing the answer but asking it for my cover, forcing myself to stop my licking. "What's going on?"
"Another pony is dead. Drained dry. That's the third one this week."
"Has to be a vampony."
"You don't think they've come here, do you?!"
I raise an eyebrow at him. "You mean that cult? Don't be ridiculous We are too small and innocent for them to come and then just pick us off. And, if they did come, we would be exterminated due to our size. No, it could only be one or two who decided our village would be their feast."
"How could you know this stuff?!" he asks incrediously but with a smile.
"I've been around. I'd also lost family to a pack. So I have more knowledge of how they run than most." I turn and fake a smile for him. Ugh, I hate this part of the game.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He frowns.
"It was when I was younger; I'm past it now." I spin around and start towards my work. "Now, if you will exuse me, I have to get to work."
I hurry to work so my boss, the jewelry store's owner, doesn't get any suspicions of me, remembering what it was like to suck the pony dry, his screams echoing through the forest, growing weaker as I gulped down that oh-so-delicious blood...
I realize I'm here and check in with the owner before idling behind the counter, my wandering like usual. Oh, how I hate having to blend in. But it's for enjoyment. It's for the pleasure of seeing these pitiful ponies freak out as I kill them off one by one. They quiver, scream, run, accuse, kill... It's so fun to see how a community will break down, how connected it truly is!
Oh, the killing, the blood, the body, the scare, the fear, the distrust, the fighting, the death, the chaos, the joy! All worth thi hateful acting. Ugh, ponies have such boring, stinking lives! How can they stand not killing ponies for sport?! It
s the most fun thing you can do with the dull people!
Just a kill or two more and the fun will begin. The seed is planted and the ponies are sowing it. It will bloom in a few days. And then I won't have to act like a boring pony but a scared pony! One that makes the situation worse! Ahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA!
