Something I wrote a while ago
"So what’s your name?" asked one of the necromancers with a Welsh accent.
"I'm Blaze, who're you?" I replied.
"I'm Bronwyn. So," she said, "you're a vampyre."
It was dark outside and nearing 11 o'clock.
"Yeah, I am. So you're a necromancer."
"Yes." She yawned.
"Tired?" I asked.
She nodded. Her eyes were pink and her pupils were massive. She rubbed her eyes and pushed her long blonde hair back.
"Well, I'm going out now. Will you tell Cosmo for me?" I requested.
"Which one's that?"
"The one with white hair and black eyes. Absolutely gorgeous."
"Your boyfriend?" she said.
"I wish," I said, smiling.
She nodded, wished me luck on my trip out and went upstairs to bed. She knew why I was leaving. I was going out hunting, which was a lot harder now than it was 200 years ago. I worked my way through the throng of vampyres and dark sorcerers to the front door.
"You’re going out?"
My red hair swished as I turned, my green eyes darted to the owner of the voice. It was Gryphon, leaning against the wall. I'd gone right past him and not noticed. His tousled black hair swept across his face and his Iota followed the left side of his face, from forehead to chin. His Iota - tattoo - was of entwining serpents, their fangs bared and tongues lashing Gryphon's face.
"Hunting. Want to come?" I asked.
"Sure." He pushed off the wall and accompanied me out of the house.
We walked down the street into the dark which was no feat for our eyes. Together, with my eyesight and Gryphon's hearing we walked all the roads in our part of the city. We still couldn't find anything suitable so we did the most dangerous thing we could ever do: we left our territory and went into the next.
We wandered the streets which didn't belong to us for three hours before coming across a drunken hobo on a bench. Together we drained him, our noses turning up at the booze and drugs in his blood. Nobody would notice his passing; he was an unwanted homeless guy. He was just one of the many homeless in the city.