As of late, his most recent hunting grounds were as safe as it could get. Strolling in the shadows was, without fail, no more dangerous for him than fetching the newspaper in the suburbs, for where he’d taken up was the exact opposite of such a setting. It was an area that a simple trip to a corner store ran the risk of being robbed, stabbed, jumped. And as usual, what served as an unfortunate reality for humans made for a great time for him. When attacks were all but hourly, people didn’t pay so much attention to things that went bump in the night. They kept their heads down, scurried along. There was no need to worry about community backlash, because there was none. Everyone minded their business.
All of that privilege - the freedom from interruptions, the not-so-pressing need to hide - had quickly gone to Drystan’s head and made him cocky. Sloppy. Excitement and carelessness had merged into an arterial rupture for a late night victim, which in turn left him with a mess that couldn’t be solved with the quick wipe of a sleeve.
Resigned to the fact he’d have to make another stop at his chosen hideaway to get cleaned up, he turned to leave both the alley and the dead body it now harbored, only to freeze when he caught sight of his apparent onlooker.
He took a glance to one of his hands, noted its glimmer of blood; blood that soaked the front of him, providing a comforting but sticky weight. However enjoyable he found the substance, he could tell that wasn’t a shared opinion.
Opposite the one across from him, the ensuing staredown was more awkward than frightening. This wasn’t a hunter, he had nothing to fear, but that he enjoyed being caught literally red-handed. So unconcerned with the notion of being caught at all minutes prior, being thrust into that scenario had him floundering.
There were a number of lies - absolute bullshit - that flitted through his mind then and there, but any claims that it ‘wasn’t what it looked like’ were abandoned when the individual meant to receive them took off. The effect that perfectly valid response had on him was instantaneous, and he locked up all the more to keep himself in place, necessary to resist the brewing urge to chase. Previously sated throat ran dry, gums ached, legs twitched with the desire to run. He’d already killed one person, what would be the harm in a second, really?
There was little that would have swayed him had he decided to give chase, but gravity found itself spreading some grace. The sight of something that could’ve been torn straight from a horror comedy brought him back to his semblance of humanity. Someone who tripped into dirt wouldn’t be as satisfying a catch, and that rationalization was enough to calm him down.
Still, he took his time heading over and took the opportunity for a few deep breaths, clearing his head an increment more with each one. Once close enough to do so, the toe of a boot came out to nudge one of the intended escapee’s legs, trying to provoke... something. Movement, speech, anything that would bring home the point that this was a living, breathing human.
It was hard to not kneel down and sink his teeth into someone else, especially someone he suspected wouldn’t put up much of a fight. He hadn’t attacked this one, hadn’t set out to kill him, it was an accident. A meal he could indulge in guilt-free. He’d have done just that if not for the persistent thump of a heartbeat, a nagging reminder of the life he would be taking. As much of a non-issue that had been a few minutes ago - hyped on... monster adrenaline, as he had been - he didn’t typically like to kill more than necessary. Having just drained someone to death, it definitely wasn’t necessary. That didn’t mean he didn’t want.
“Hey,” he spoke up after a moment, somehow managing the audacity to sound bothered. “Hey, the playing dead thing isn’t going to work here, I hope you know that. And - and you know what? You’re pretty stupid, aren’t you? Who runs from a... well, I guess you don’t know what I am, but still. Stupid. Not to mention rude. How do you know I didn’t get stabbed back there? Maybe if you’d offered to call 9-1-1 for me instead, you wouldn’t look like a total idiot right now, huh?” he huffed. “Something to keep in mind... if I don’t eat you.”
