The beginning of the hunt.
The young priest in training came to me at sunset just as I had risen for the night. The fluttering of his heart was a most delicious sound but the reprimand would be great should I defile another of the clergy. I kept my distance even as he eyed me with equal measures of terror and intrigue. I had a new monster to hunt and to kill. A gentleman who no longer relied on the moon to bring forth his beast but could change at will and had developed a taste for young girls, maidens on the cusp of womanhood. Twenty six victims had fallen in less than that many nights and he would be on the hunt again. I kept only the picture of the man and committed the rest of the file to memory. The young priest fled as soon as I dismissed him, I think my fangs descending as I talked of slaughter unnerved him. It excited me. I pulled on a cloak once I had armed myself and I followed him out into the night. I would hunt, I would kill and after I would feed but not on the beast, he would leave a bitter after taste in my mouth.