((Please, before you post, give me written consent to bite you... Lol...))

The flashy techno blared.
The air was thick with vodka.
Mortals were everywhere and where there was mortals - there was blood.

The lonliness pushed into Morton. He unwillingly sucked it in and took a seat at a bar, watching woman in skimpy outfits dirty dance with their co-ed friends while, next to him, men were getting shit-faced and ready to take advantage of the first girl they came into contact with.

Morton ordered a drink and the when the bartender delivered, slammed it quick and felt the pain run down his throat.

These days, the pain was pleasure and the pleasure is what Morton yearned for. Years of sorrow. Years of pain, distrust, lonliness. In a life that is immortal - these traits are common. With no future of death, why rush things?

Mort felt the alchohol sting his brain. Why do I come here? he asked himself. Worthless. Absolutely, fucking worthless...

A shout above the music directed his attention. A fight had broken out. Disgusted with the environment, Morton trailed out the door without paying and stood at the edge of the street. A mortal passed but he payed not attention, just turned the opposite way and walked on the sidewalk of darkness.

Passing alleys and buildings that had gone to shit, Morton heard something. Standing at an intersection, the sound echoed from across the street. Intrigued, he followed it.

Aislinn hummed to herself as she hefted her pack a little higher on her shoulder, her plain brown hair fluttering behind her as she sped along the sidewalk; weaving around people with her head ducked down to avoid catching anyone’s eyes. Erlina was home asleep, safely tucked away and under the watchful eyes of an elderly neighbor. Aislinn was walking as fast as she could toward home and ducking drunk students to get home and let her baby girl know they might be able to get a bigger studio after this latest sculpture was done. Erlina had taken to art as quickly and happily as her mother, and Aislinn loved every minute of it.

Pride gave a bit of a bounce to her step as she continued down the sidewalk, head bowed and still humming. The cool air made her warmth breath fog and brought a chill to her already cold skin so that she huddled deeper into her heavy jean jacket, shrugged her pack higher on her shoulder again, and quickened her pace.

It was one of a thousand nights that she walked around late feeling like a pray animal amongst predators, but she contributed it to her distaste for the rowdy college students and ducked her head a little lower, trying to appear as small and uninteresting as possible.

“Just let me get home.”