I knew my target had an affiliation for blood. The only way I knew that I could get him within my sight was to give him what he wanted. I found the site where he made his kill. The body was still there, dried and cracked from the lack of fluids. My target’s killing style was unique. I knew that he would never come back to this spot without bait being set. So I pulled out my knife and set to work on a small vein in my arm, the same used for giving blood. I finished giving about a pint on the floor surrounding the body of his previous victim and waited in the shadows nearby. I did not need to wait long, and my target approached cautiously. He seemed slightly confused, thinking he had previously drained his victim. Soon his hunger overtook reason and he began to feed on the essence I had left behind. I prepared to make my move, but I soon realized that I might have given too much of my blood for the deed. I felt faint and dizzy, and as soon as I tried to approach silently, my steel- toed boot scraped the floor and my target spun around, alerted to my presence. I tried to get my bearings as the room spun while my target jumped forward ready to defend his own life. I threw my arms up in defence as his hands tried to close on my neck. We both fell towards the floor, locked in a deadly battle that only one of us would leave from alive. As I fell backwards, however, I threw my arm and legs in the air at the same time, launching him behind me. Both of us scrambled to our feet and he charged me again. As he approached rapidly, I fumbled with the inside of my coat, reaching for the weapon that would save my life. He connected with me as soon as I had my weapon out. We both fell to the floor again, him on top of me. I struggled briefly before I realized that he was no longer moving. I pushed him off of me to find my spoon lodged between his ribs. I sighed in relief, removed my weapon and walked away from the bloody scene. I need a hobby…