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Hale's nose pressed against the glass of the window of the three story victorian mansion for which, he took as his new dwelling. The two sprawled bodies of a man and his wife lay downstairs in the living room floor, blood pooling around each of the corpses. He could smell it from here, his nose overly sensitive to the iron and salty smell. Down the hill from this large ancient home, was a small town, to which held about as much interest to him as a fly on the wall.
He sighed and pulled away from the window, leaving the small bed room from which he was in. The halls were lit brightly on either side of him as he made his way to the staircase, paintings and family portraits staring him down. Murderer.. they all murmured in his head. He chuckled and began his descent. Like he cared. Humans were nothing but cattle. Food to him. His lips instinctively licked the remains of gore from his perfect soft lips, then over a pair of bright, razor sharp fangs that disappeared at a moment's notice.
As Hale made it to the first floor, he turned to the living room, the concentrated scent of bodies becoming clear at once. He looked at the young wife and crouched down lightly over her form, taking strands of corn silk hair in between his index and second finger, twirling them for a moment, then let go. A surge of pity for the young girl felt distant to him. She was beautiful in almost every way. The way her lips shaped when he sauntered towards her with a cruel smile. Her bright, pine green eyes against pallid green skin.. How they looked when he took her in his arms, cradling her in front of her already dead husband, draped over an arm chair.. And pressed his lips to her soft neck.. How her pleas sounded pitiful, when he lay her down to the floor... To bring her husband closely to her...
He placed each of their hands in one another's and said a small prayer for his cattle. After all, he wasn't entirely a damnable cruel beast.
"...Best, I find a shovel..." he mumbled quietly to himself, leaving the two lovers in death's embrace right on the old rug. Digging a hole wasn't a problem, finding a spot, however, was. He was forced to bury the two of them under a lemon tree in the back yard, patting down the freshly turned earth with the shovel. He didn't even break a sweat. Dark black curling hair fell into his incredibly exotic blue eyes with an astonishing face. He looked like a model, no, even better than a mere model. But he thought nothing of his looks. They were nothing, but a trap for young girls with taste.
He went inside to clean the mess of the living room, turning on all the lights in the house.
The crown molding and neutral wall paint offered only mere beauty. But it was slightly boring. He would paint that later in his free time. The antique furniture could stay. It gave the house class. The kitchen would need some work.. He would refinish the cabinetry and retile it with a more modern feel. He counted a total of four bedrooms and two and a half baths. A storage closet and piano room. That, he counted, as a plus. He would need not worry about the police coming in and investigating the murders of Catheline Parryman and Robert Parryman. Their records, social security, everything, had been deleted. Or, at least, anything anyone could care about. After all, the rumor of their constant fighting as a new couple had gone arise, and the thought of a double murder was on most of the neighbor's mind's. That just about tickled Hale to death. The wife beater and the submissive housewife, finally at each other's necks. Or rather, Hale at both of their necks.
The night was a short coming. It passed by quickly for Hale. He stayed curled up next to the small brick fireplace, tearing and throwing family photos of the Parryman's into the hungry flame. As he went to tear at their marriage picture, he slowed down, placing the other photos on the hardwood flooring, looking into the eyes of the young new couple. There she should, pink roses all around her, the background full of blue sky, green leaves, and flowers. Spring. Her arm was curled into her betrothed, both their wedding bands a small glint in the 8 by 10. He found himself staring at the girl. Her soft slender frame in a white bodice, her soft corn silk hair replaced by chocolate curls, pine green eyes replaced by perfect, honey gold eyes...
No.. No more.. He must not think of her now. She must not be thought of. He growled angrily, flinging the picture into the flames. It was overtaken almost instantly. Picking up the whole bunch of pictures, he placed them into the fire as well, watching with cold eyes, as they turned into blackened nothings..
"....Dimenticare tutta la vostra bellezza...." Forget all of your beauty... he mumbled into the now dimming light.

Evangeline stood in the dim hallway, her back pressed against the wall. Everything seemed to spin around her, but the dark shape of the person stepping towards her in a graceful stride. Her stomach told her she should run, the pit of it twisting up to warn her of danger.. But something made her stay. She stood frozen to the oncoming stranger. Then the dim lights seemed to show brightly to his form. It appeared to be a boy, no older than seventeen. Dark silky hair curtaining over his right eye, the other one staring into hers, as if trying to dig into her mind.
Evangeline had but one thing to say to the boy.
"Who are you?" But her question was never answered, for he simply smiled and leaned in towards her. Her heart lurched in her chest.
"You know..." his words were nothing but a sweet sounding whisper, with little humor added. He chuckled darkly, leaning in to brush his lips with hers.....
Evangeline shot up, her bed comforter flying off of the bed. She stifled a gasp, her cheeks flushed.
"My heavens..." she murmured quietly to herself. Her chest heaved underneath the conservative nightgown she donned. Light penetrated the window to her right, from which her bed was merely a foot apart from. She crawled out of the bed in a childlike manner, standing in the center of her bedroom. She sighed, stretching her long arms and legs, trotting over to her vanity mirror to take a look.
Wide brilliant blue eyes, fierce and excited. Dark long ringlets of raven hair wildly dancing around her powdery doll like face. Still the small scar behind her right jaw bone from a car accident, now barely visible. Soft, delicate lips that could give off the perfect pout. She smiled. Still the same... she thought with satisfaction.
She descended the small staircase that led from her and her sister's room to the other rooms. Turning a quick corner, she saw Agatha casually leaning in her favorite chair, a bowl of unfinished cereal on the table. Agatha looked up from the comic section of the daily news and smiled.
"Glad to see Sleeping Beauty's finally got up." she laughed. The twenty one year old girl slumped in her seat and yawned. "I've got work in about thirty minutes. Mind taking on the dishes for me?" Evangeline nodded and watched as Agatha stood up. "Great. Now to find that damned dog. The little flea bag chewed up my shoes last night." At that, Evangeline giggled, pressing her hand up to her mouth to hide her overpowering smile. Agatha's cloudy blue eyes narrowed and she frowned. As she made her exit of the kitchen, Evangeline heard Agatha's "not funny..." murmur from the living room, then the shuffling and turning of things.
She then made her own breakfast, a toaster strudel and a glass of sunny D, compliments of the piggly wiggly down the street. As she sat down, she pushed at the spread newspaper. Then stopped. Something seemed to catch her eye.


MISSING:
Robert and Catheline Parryman of Northridge.

Catheline and Robert Parryman was last
seen in their house on September 16, 2008.
They have been reported missing by Jerry Sprig.

Descriptions of both:

Catheline is about five foot four with
long blonde hair and hazel eyes.
Last seen wearing a white summer dress.
Robert is about six foot two with short
cropped blonde hair and green eyes.
Last seen in a blue parka and faded blue jeans..

Any information about the two:
Contact 1-800-MISSING


Evangeline had dropped the paper. Catheline? Catheline Parryman? The Catheline who had made her the maid of honor at her wedding with her high school sweetheart, Robert? And they were both missing. It was now September 21 and fall was already turning into an icy winter. Evangeline stood up and sighed.
"Maybe the both of them went on a vacation with one another..." she mumbled quietly to herself, picking up her strudel and taking a small bite out of it. Warm strawberry goo began to escape the crescent bite mark from which she had bitten.
"Eww..." she muttered, sighing, then tugged a rag from the dish drainer, and wiped the mess from her hand.