He walks out into the night,
treading silently on the man-made earth.
Not caring that he walks among the unreal.

The moonlight shines upon the lush night grass.
His pale skin carressed by air colder than his heart.

He stops, staring with eyes that court death
at the lonely figure shrouded in the darkness
beside the trees.

His next victim.

As he walks towards her she meets his gaze,
her eyes tell her tale and they beg him to end her sorrow.
She sees him, loves him, for what he is.

Not a blood-thirsty immortal,
her saviour.
 
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