Thrill

Running fast, swift
feet a blur
going so fast.
Wind in the hair
blowing in all directions.
She is running faster, 
faster than humans should.
She is something, 
something else.

With a whoosh
she is off.
Hard to track, 
impossible to follow.
But she can track.
She can follow.
Now she tracks, follows, 
stalking her prey.

She stops
smelling, 
listening, 
waiting, until, 
the chase is back.

Blood pulses in her victim, 
steadily, yet rapidly
he knows the doom that waits.
This is his end, his purpose.
To be hunted down and found.

With a final leap
she grabs hold
tackling her victim, 
tackling him to the ground.

With a strangled yell he fought, 
fought an already lost fight.
With a slight smile
she let her fangs release
leaning closer
sniffing, smelling the scent
the scent of blood.

Watching the pulse on his neck
she zeroed in watching waiting.
With lightning speed
she leaned forward
grabbing hold sinking her teeth.
Taking what was left of him, 
to feed her, 
to keep herself alive.

[A/N] Written for a friend who requested a poem about vampires.

Written: March 2011