You may see them walking among us. I know you have. Even you know you have. They are the silent, the cunning, the whispers in your ear. You feel them across the room staring at you. Late at night as you walk from casino to casino they follow you. They are there. When you cross times square at midnight they are sitting on a bench staring at you. They are the cold wind, the creeping thing that walks before you. They drink, but it is not whiskey or cola. The flavor they want is something primal, something different. It runs through you, pumping through your system.
It is the primal force in all of us. It will run across their lips in a rapid crimson gush. The force will send them spiraling into a spasm of euphoria This is their one primal want, it is the one craving that sustains them. It is the blood dripping from their lips. They are the darkness that hides from the light.