It's weird how easily snow melts on my skin, yet the cold fails to freeze me. The bus stop is littered with old newspapers and Red Bull cans. There's a Vitamin Water hidden under a thin blanket of snow and I can still smell the strawberry-kiwi flavour that it once held. 

I like sitting out here on the bench, instead of inside. I can smell the humans as they run to catch a bus, or cross the street--eerily looking over their shoulders at me. I can hear the lilt of teenage voices across the street describing their last concert, or whatever. A car passes by, spraying slush over the teenagers and they both laugh and scream in surprise.

My hunger is slowly returning and I am starting to feel the same urge as before. I lift my head up as a cold breeze sends me smells from nearly everywhere in the city.

Tonight it will happen. I will feed. 

Leaning back on the bench, I stretch my arms out. My trench coat adjusts easily to my movement as I lean my head back and taste the air. Tonight is perfect. 

A police siren sounds off in the distance and I can smell the distant stench of blood. Suicide blood, so weak and grotesque. That doesn't concern me, but my next feed does. Quicker than any eye can see, I am up on my feet and they barely make a sound as I walk closer to the road. 

Those who run in groups told me that I was hopeless when alone. They have no idea how wrong they are. I smile and let the change carefully advance over me, the otherworldly senses seeping slowly into my soul. It overtakes my humane strength and whatever other useless things humanity has inflicted upon me.

A woman is alone as she walks towards the bus stop where I stand. Her short red hair is partially hidden under a wool cap and her green eyes are daringly catching glimpses of me as she inches closer. She is in a rush to catch the number thirty-five which will take her to the Jane Station. She is full of  pride, I can hear it in each footfall and she has no queries about my appearance. 

"Hi," she says brightly. She believes she is safe, that she can trust me. "Waiting for the bus too?" 

I smirk. She shouldn't talk to strangers. "Me?" I point at myself mockingly and she nods carefully, finally feeling some oddness in my behaviour. "No, I'm waiting for something much more," I smile and bare my long teeth, "entertaining."

The End

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