Kyrian walked slowly down the street, reddish colored eyes looked around slowly. His long black hair flowed down his back and fluttered in the light breeze. He licked his lips, hungry, needing to feed. Needing blood. He was tall at six feet two, his body pale, but defined with perfect muscles. Being a vampire had made him near perfection. Though, there was a single long scar that went on his shoulder blade and around his side to his hip. A battle scar from long ago.
He licked his lips as he entered an old abandon building. Maybe there was a hobo hanging out in here that he could easily feed from instead of killing someone with a family. He walked in slowly, always aware of his surroundings. He didn't need a slayer or something attacking him.
He licked his lips as he entered an old abandon building. Maybe there was a hobo hanging out in here that he could easily feed from instead of killing someone with a family. He walked in slowly, always aware of his surroundings. He didn't need a slayer or something attacking him.