The deafening music.

The flashing lights.

The dark club.

The meshing of human flesh against flesh.

The smell of mortal lust and alcohol.

It was always the same to him, but no matter how many times he entered this dark paradise of human emotions and sex, the feelings of excitement and anticipation never left him. Though he spared himself a small chuckle at how he had obtained those or any emotions at all if someone were to get right down to it.

After making his way through the crowded bodies of people who called themselves adults, but were really no more than children in their mentalities, he sat at the bar, made the formality of ordering a drink, and scanned the area until his pale silver eyes landed on a young woman. She looked to be in her twenties with long blond hair, delicate features, slim figure, and brown eyes.

He could not help but smile in anticipation. Leaving his drink untouched, he made his way through the bodies until he was beside the girl he had spotted. He then smiled and she smiled back.

Looking at her he thought of how easy it was to hunt in this modern age. His prey was always such fools; following a stranger for their beauty. He mused that this was a race that had always valued superficial beauty and scorned bright minds. Turning away from such thoughts, he focused on his prey.

They began to dance in the ways that mortals do so that their bodies ground against each other. He could not wait for what was to come. And then, in the middle of their dancing, he felt eyes on him. Looking away from the girl, he met the sad blue eyes that seemed to be mocking him despite the melancholy feeling coming from them as the owner of these eyes took a drag of her cigarette.

It was her: the Watcher. He had named her thus because he had often seen her. Different from the sheep before him, never drinking, never dancing, always with a cigarette; his watcher sat and took in the club as if it was her own private show. Always there, but separate. Tonight she wore a tight red dress, revealing her hourglass figure while still showing a modesty and elegance that most of the women here lacked. It matched her dark pixie cut hair and strange blue eyes. Everyone here was supposed to be a sheep but, for some unexplainable reason, she always caught his attention. It was almost as if she was mocking him with that look in her eyes and the cigarette held lazily in her pale hands.

He mentally shook himself from these strange thoughts and turned back to the girl he was with. He gave her a smile, not that she would have noticed with how blood-shot her eyes seemed to be, but he never could tell when these mortals were able to understand what was going on through the haze of liquor and drugs, so he smiled, and he led her away to one of the rooms reserved for more private affairs in the back of the club.

When they were alone, he kissed her and could feel her emotions coming into him. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then the mouth was its doorway. The human soul is made up of an aggregate of emotions that allowed these mortals to live on as they do and it was this doorway that allowed him to feed from the emotions of his prey until they were no more.

From his kiss, he could feel her love of life as if it was his own. These emotions that made these mortals exist and gave him his life filled him with an ecstasy that never grew old no matter how many people he seduced. He could feel her lust, anger, and sadness and reveled in it. Then the both of them moved their hands in that age old dance until the girl was no more, but ashes and dust.

Feeling refreshed and aware that the night was still young, he walked back out into the club. He no longer needed to feed for the night, but that did not mean that he could not still enjoy himself so he began to lose himself to the meshing bodies and deafening music until he felt those eyes on him once more. He was never one to let his food toy with him, but enough was enough. For too many nights, the girl had been sitting and watching him, and he would not allow a mortal to be amused by him.

He went to her and shouted, "Who are you" over the deafening music.

"What," shouted the girl before she pointed at the back entrance.

Nodding, he took her hand and led her to the outside of the club that was crowded by other youths looking for a place to talk and be heard. Not that the smell of alcohol and drugs was any less potent. It was always so strong in these places that he couldn't even properly scent what emotions were coming from his prey. Then again, the surprise was always worth it and over the centuries he had learned that each sheep held different emotions. From the corner of his eye, he could even spot the remnants of drugs and cigarettes as the youths continued to talk to each other through their haze of drugs and alcohol.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he let go of her hand and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm not in the habit of giving out my name to strangers," replied the girl while taking a drag of her cigarette.

"Fine. Then why are you watching me?"

"Aren't you the arrogant one," replied the girl with a wry smile.

He scowled in response. He hated these types. The ones who put on a false bravado, but had eyes that were crying though no tears fell.

"Listen, I don't do one night stands and just cause I don't dance doesn't mean that my eyes are on you," said the girl with another drag of her cigarette.

"I know what I've been seeing," he replied with clenched fists.

"Well, if that's all, blondie, I'm heading back in," said the girl as she left, but he did not hear her over the obvious dismissal that he had just received

**************

That night began a strange pattern for him. He would still feed in his usual manner, lest he meet his demise, but after that, he began to speak to his watcher. At first they were just complaints and questions, but as time began to pass, they began to truly speak. They never gave their names, but he told her things of himself that he had never told anyone, and she in turn, did the same. He told her of his siblings, whom he had not spoken to in eons and she spoke of how her family had been long since gone. He had never thought that he could have something in common with a mortal, but his watcher was not just any ordinary mortal.

And so the nights passed.

And these nights turned into weeks.

And these weeks into months.

And it came to pass that he had been in the company of a single mortal, whom had come to know him, for over a year. Even so, for the first time in his long life, he had no desire whatsoever to end his watcher's life. He could not help the smile that began to form of his lips as he thought of tonight. The club was holding a special masquerade night.

Last night, he had stood next to the watcher in that place right outside the club that they often talked to each other at, and asked, "How are we to recognize each other with masks?"

He remembered that she was in black leather pants and a red crop top that revealed the piercing of a star with a crescent moon on her bellybutton while he wore the jeans and dress shirt that he always wore to the club.

"Don't worry," the watcher replied as she took her usual smoke.

"What do you mean," he asked.

"Even if you were to hide your face and your body was changed from some weird deformity, I would recognize you," replied the watcher with a wry smile.

"I'm still confused," he said at her strange and cryptic response. Although, when he had deciphered her words, he did admit that he felt a slight reddening arise in his cheeks.

"Just trust me," the watcher replied with a wider grin at his reaction.

And he realized that he did. More than he had ever trusted one of his own kind or any other living being, he trusted this mortal girl whom he had never even exchanged names with.

Finding himself amused at his memories, he entered the club in formal wear and a green and gold mask as he surveyed the crowd. He concluded that it was some parody of the masked balls from days long since past when he looked at how these masked youths moved in their evening gowns and suits. Wanting his feeding to be done, he picked a girl in a blue evening gown and sapphire and silver mask. Her lips were painted red and her hair was cut short and black.

Smiling to himself at not this meal, but what awaited him after; he played his game and danced with her until he led her away into that room that he always led them. And as he danced that age old dance, he kissed her and the girl's mask slipped away and for a moment, he met the eyes of his watcher. And with it, he felt her wish for death.

He could hear her cry out, "This wasn't supposed to happen" as he reached out his hand to her and faded into ashes.