Did these mortals fear me? Oh indeed they did, but it was not my skin, this body, these limbs, or these eyes from which the spirit of life had flown. No they feared me because I am a mirror reflecting back their darker sides. This is what they fear and they love it, they are fascinated by it. The proverbial moth drawn to the flame, I am that flame. Like the flame consumes the moth, I consume them. Not whole mind you, though I could, for otherwise within years I would be without food and what would become of me then? I would cease to exist, for without mortals there cannot, shall not be even a single Nosferatu. Yes that is what I, we prefer to call ourselves. Why? This I do not know, it is just the way things are.
Back to the window, I looked outside unto the streets of Vienna. Such a diverse menu, such a varied palette to paint the night with. I decided to go down and mingle with them, see them, hear them, smell them, touch them, and taste them. Who of them would answer my silent call? These beings that have no natural enemy, who of there superior beings would submit to my game of predator and prey, who would cast aside his dominance to become submissive? This is one of my lures; I free them of the chains of status, obligation, responsibility and virtue and give them comfort, release, and submission in my arms.
Though I am capable of going out by day, I do not prefer it. I am a nocturnal creature; it is the way I am. The sun does not harm me though it does scar some of my kind. Do not ask me about the physiology of me kind, I am not a scientist, I am a romantic. How could someone who has the most intimate of contacts on a regular basis not become a romantic?
I went outside clad in the clothes of an average man of Vienna, no cloaks or frilly shirts for me; I need the attention of the individual not the crowd.
I seated myself in one the expensive coffeehouses of this grand city. I looked at the people around me, taking in the sights and sounds of this establishment. I heard talk of the affairs of the royal family and the rebellious Elisabeth, or Sissy as she was so charmingly called. What I was looking for I did not know. The dark brown polished wood and the strong smell of delicious coffee dominated the place. Again I looked around and I saw him; a student born to a family of means. He was simply gorgeous with his locks as dark and brown as the wood and his eyes just as dark but supported by an intellect that lit them with a fire that drew me to him. This time I was the moth and he consumed all of my attention. This boy, I wanted to be his prey as much as I wanted him to be mine. His form slender but definitely masculine, he stood slightly taller then me. I wanted him; I wanted him to want me. I waited with the patience of angels for this angel to leave so I could follow him, to play my games in the streets of Vienna, to begin a hunt where I was bot predator and prey.
He left with friends in a carriage. Though such a Vehicle would be impossible to follow on foot by mortal men, I was not a mortal man and I have certain advantages that allowed me to follow them running on the roofs of the city. I followed the boy home to his rooms that his parents rented for him. Then I had a stroke of luck, the boy kissed one of his friends on the cheek and while his friend assumed it was just friendly affection, I saw desire burning in those deep dark eyes. So this boy could desire me as well, I wanted to awaken that desire and I knew that such a feat was within my grasp.
The carriage drove on down the street and out of sight. The boy went to his rooms and lit several oil lamps. He had splendid rooms with dark green designs on the wallpaper and furniture of fine wood. He closed the curtains except those of his bedroom. He undressed down to his undergarments, heedless of the fact that he was being watched. His body had a fine tone. Then he looked outside through the windows in the double doors that lead to his balcony outside his bedroom. I was watching him, he could not see me, and somehow this was intimate.
The boy closed the bedroom curtains and extinguished all the lights except the one in his bedroom. His silhouette shimmered through the curtains, merely a vague shade, the curtains where too thick to make out any details. I leapt from the roof unto the balcony outside the boy's bedroom. I landed with grace and without making any alarming noises. A double door and a curtain were all that separated me from the boy's direct presence. I waited as if savoring the moment. I smelled the night air, taking in the refreshing scent, I felt a cool breeze on my skin. The doors where locked of course, it would have been easy to break down the doors but I decided not to. I picked the lock with my unusually skillful hands and it was not like I had not done this before. True, there are those who refuse or perhaps cannot enter a dwelling without an invitation, and there are those such as I who will enter a dwelling if and when they please. I listened; the boy was in his bed dosing off. He must have forgotten to extinguish the oil lamp in his bedroom. With a gentle touch I moved one curtain aside so my eyes could feast on the scene in the bedroom. The boy lay tucked in under his blanket, lying on his side his face turned away from me. His soft hair and skin seemed warmer in the light of the oil lamp, softer more fragile, and more desirable. I stood there wondering if I should disturb such beauty, if I should not just leave and savor my desire. No, my passion drove me on and without further thought I entered the room. Softly I closed the doors behind me. I could smell the boy's scent, sweet and soft like the rest of him. He turned so he lying on his back, his chest, shoulders, and the upper part of his chest where bared. He was till young save for a few downy hairs of puberty he was smooth, still a boy. I smiled; I could not keep thinking how delicious this boy was. I moved over to the side of his bed. I let my mind slip into his, making myself aware of the boy's current state of slumbering passion. I unlocked the passion gave hope and a promise of fulfillment to his desire. His dark eyes opened, he saw me, and he was startled, opened his mouth to say something or to scream. No sound came. The fingers of my mind caressed his desire, his urge, making it grow strong into an undeniable force. Then there was the moment of silence, I hoped it had worked, that he would want me as I wanted him. His look of shock turned to one of wonder and amazement. I was his mirror reflecting his hidden desires and he fell in love with the image he saw. He sat up exposing his torso, his eyes wide, deep dark brown eyes aflame with lust and doubt. He was my prey, I hoped his carnal instincts would make him my hunter. The boy reached out to me and hesitantly took my hand as if I where an Illusion that would vanish if he would touch it. But I did not vanish, I was still there and yielded to his pull and sat besides him on the bed. His hand felt warm and tender. The boy?s lips moved but no sound came from them as if words would have had broken the spell, mayhap they would have. I let the boy touch my face, let him touch me everywhere I wanted and surrendered to his caresses and moved in the positions he wanted me in. I had caught him, then I let him capture me. Our movements became wilder; refined passion became unbridled lust. His sweet scent became spiced by the smell of sweat as we worked to satisfy our lust. And I yielded to everything, surrendered to his body. When his mind was clouded by warm burning urges and his common sense was totally blinded by a veil of ecstasy; I drank of his blood, it was hot and sweet with a sting of spice brought on by his rhythmic movements. It mingled with the taste of his young and not yet full-grown yet hard as marble manhood that I tasted earlier. I held him close in the moist moments of his climax and he fell asleep due to exhaustion and blood loss. I wiped away the sweat from his brow, chest and groin as well as the product of his lust. Then I tucked his sleeping form in. I dressed myself and extinguished the oil lamp and left locking the balcony door doors behind me. I climbed down and walked the streets like an ordinary man letting the breeze cool my body that was still hot from my copulation with the boy and from his blood.
Back in my house I took a bath, I did not have the patience to let the water become properly warm and settled for lukewarm water. I savored the cleansing water dripping down my body; I cleaned myself not bothering with any further eroticism. I did not dress again but put on my bathrobe. I retired to my living room and sat in a chair near a window. I moved the thick red curtains aside and looked outside but I did not really see anything, for my mind was clouded with the image of the boy