He took a breath. But it only took in the smell. What was that smell?

"Ahhhhh"

It was the smell of struggle, sex, drugs, and death. It was a strong smell too. He breathed in the night air again, and gazed at sky. It was a grand night for a kill. But who would it be tonight. A couple was walking toward him form the left, as he stood in the midle of the concreate path. They were both drunk, but she more than he. Drakeon was in his punk gothic clothing, this man and his date were both modest. He wore nice jeans, with a black colared shirt. She wore Jeans with butterflies down the side. A white tank top, with a black bra underneath.

He wonered to himself how to approach these two. They both were intoxicated, so it would not be to hard. But the guy seemed to be armed. His pants were being held up by whatever was there in the small of his back. A gun perhaps? More likely a nife...He sighed, and turned away from them, but did not get out of the way. THen he heard another coming fast to take his kill maybe?

He turned slowly in time to she a blur heading straight for them, 20 yards away. Drakeon kept his face impassive, and just watched. Keeping himself on gaurd just in case. He knew it was not his sire....