Vampires were predators, but hardly in the traditional sense. Wolves, tigers, bears, snakes…they all had to put effort trying to track down their prey, and then catch it as it fled. A tiring process that ultimately ended with them gorging on their hard-earned meal.

To their prey, a Kindred was indistinguishable from anyone else. And most Vampires spent almost their entire Requiems amongst the morass of humanity that filled this world. They did not have to seek their prey, they did not have to chase it. They walked amongst it every night of their Requiem. And Wilhelm, his senses ever altered by the signature discipline of the Mekhet clan, was never unaware of that. He could hear the thunder of a mortal’s heartbeat as he or she walked past him on the sidewalk, and the rushing of blood in their veins. He could see the pulsing of the veins at their neck, their wrists. Every night he was acutely reminded of the fact that he was a predator loosed amongst the unsuspecting prey.

And that was, ultimately, the difference. The Vampire’s prey did not realize they were prey. And Kindred Society took care to keep it that way. There was no charging forward to scatter a group of humans to reveal the weakest, no gorging on prey and letting its remains lie where it fell. Physical ability and instinct were of secondary importance when a Kindred hunted. Foresight and discretion were what mattered.

And as his victim closed the apartment door shadows fell away and Wilhelm struck, his enhanced strength meaning that the struggle was barely worthy of being called such. Fangs sunk into the neck’s tender flesh, and life’s blood poured down his throat. Life stolen, to fuel an eternal existence stolen, piecemeal from others. Not that he cared. Fingers pressed briefly against the carotid artery, checking for a pulse. Risking accidentally leaving a body lying around was just sloppy. But as always, he had not killed accidentally. The unconscious form was placed on its bed. And Wilhelm restored his Cloak of Night before climbing through the open window onto the fire escape, departing the apartment even more easily than he’d entered it.

Foresight and discretion…it was a game he knew well.