You always meet the most interesting folks on the train. Granted, the city is a big place, and really no matter where you go you meet interesting people, but nowhere near as much as on the train. it's one of the few places where everyone ends up. And it's also one of the few places where these people tend to get along, seemingly locked inside a car, often pushed up against other people, this is where those petty feelings evaporate. An oasis of fantasy within the reality of life.

I like riding the train, though not so much for what i just mentioned. I ride it for irony, really. I mean, take a look at it closely: the train is a method of transportation invented initially for shipping purposes.It's a boxcar, no matter how you try to change it around or liven it up. Boxcars with windows, riding underground in the subway system. It makes me laugh, really.

I like riding the trains at night. Less people, same diffusion, less inhibitions. People sing to their Walkmen, take up two or more seats, they seem to act far more natural than during the day. Not weird, just natural, casual, unlike the stuffy suits that press on board like cows during the morning and evening rush.

She's reading a book, "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn." I've read it, ridiculous title, but interesting story. But that's not what catches my attention. It's her. I can see right through her in fact. She's not reading, she's hunting. And what's worse, she's being static about it, like all of them. Different book, but the same routine. Which, in the end, is why I can't stand them.

I'm still twirling an old straw between my fingers. Can't really explain why, I just am. And if it weren't the straw, it'd be a pencil, or a pocketwatch, or something. I'm just nervous, and waiting for her to notice me.

My eyes are locked on her, my facade totally innocent. I've slipped into my schoolboy face, and it takes maybe 5 years off my apparent age. Its best feature is the hammy Luke Skywalker grin I spent a year perfecting. I look hopeless, naive, like a teenage boy just coming into his body. Works like a magnet.

She looks over at me and grins. She has lovely lips. I always tend to notice them first, and hers are beautiful. Not too full, but not thin, a deep shade of red that clashes with her pale complexion. The desire deep inside me wants to kiss her, to feel those lips with my own. But I can hold that in check.

It's all part of her method, really. I wouldn;t be surpirsed if most of this was a rudimentary illusion, meant to make her sexually more attractive. But from what I see, it would work. Her body is almost flawless, nothing out of proportion, nothing gaudy, just a streamlined perfection that would drive any male, and a good number of females, crazy with lust. It does have something of an effect on me, it stokes my pity. I hate going after the pretty ones.

She's suddenly beside me, I didn;t even see her move. Though i wasn't really paying attention to her at that moment anyway. I really should stop overthinking, it slows my reaction time. She sits, crossing her black stockinged legs and slipping her arm around my neck.

"Evening, babe, I'm Raven, and I couldn't help but notice you." Her lips grin again, this time more sensually.

Raven. Why the hell are they always named Raven? Ravyn with a y, Ravenne spelled old fashioned. Jeez, get a new name, Raven is overdone already. Whatever pity I was feeling is gone now. She's static, like they all are. But I can still hide my disgust under the facade I've built.

"J-jon." I stammer out. "Y-yeah, sorry about that."

She leans in close, I can feel her breath on my neck. "I don't mind at all."

She wasted no time on this. Normally, I get some banter, some fake laughs, some marginally subtle talk. But then again, this time I'm looking marvelously pathetic, so i suppose she thinks I'm easy. She acts turned on by my reply, moving in a bit closer.

"All alone, are you? On a Saturday night?"

I nod, willing the hairs on my neck to rise. Her grin becomes even wider.

"Oh, don't be afraid, I won't bite"

I grin sheepishly. Bull-s**t.

The train stops again, and more passengers get off. We're alone now, and she wastes no time pressing her body up against mine. She giggles, the cocky b**ch. But I still grin, allowing it to tremble a bit. She's a good actor, but I'm a better one.

Her tongue touches my neck and I shiver. Her other arm encircles my neck, she's very aroused by this, she wants to do it bad, she wants to feel the euphoria. I relax my body, seeming to give up.

I feel the twinge of her fangs as they sink into my neck. Bingo...

My elbow slams into her ribs, and she gasps. She's younger than I thought, if that reaction is still there. And what's worse, she's confused, bordering on scared. I can hear her thoughts now: this isn't how it's supposed to go. No it's not.

She tries to slip down the seat, but her reaction time is down. I grab onto her ankle tightly and hurl her like a club. She flies across the aisle and bangs hard into the seat. She moans, clutching at her head.

I'm already on my feet, towering over her. She painfully turns her head to look at me, and she starts to scream. I lash out again, and her cries gurgle off. Wrapping my hand around her neck, I lift her off the seat and hurl her across the car. Her body smashes right through the first handrail, and forces the next two to bend as she flies past them. She slams into the rear end of the car and falls limp.

I'm upon her in less than a second, closing my hand over her mouth. Part of me is laughing at the irony here: we condemn them for being so static, yet my hunting routine hasn't changed in a while either. Oh well, bully for me then.

Her eyes are wide with fear, tears of blood gathering at the corners. I really hate it when they cry, especially the cute ones. it makes the pity come back, the one human emotion I still seem to have.

"Why, kid, why?" I say, shaking my head. "Someone like you? it's not right." My fangs extend, the cloak of shadows bleeds from my body, my eyes burn red, and she tries to scream again. I can feel her body trembling, and the tears begin to fall slowly.

I shake my head and hurl her again across the car. She bangs into a pole and falls into a seat along the side of the car. I can't do it, but I have to. I hate it, somtimes it really isn't their fault, like it wasn't mine, but all the same...but I just can't sometimes. I keep remembering...

She staggers to her feet, she must have at least a few shattered bones. The shadows leaking from my body quickly surrounder, plunging the car into blackness. I hear her yelp. She can't even see...and now she's trapped inside a prison of shadows. She starts to scream. She knows she's lost, defenseless, alone, with me, and she knows I'm going to kill her. She's regretting every bad decision she's ever made.

I'm in front of her now, staring down at her. I can see her, plain as day. her eyes are terrified, tears are still flowing freely down her cheeks. I reach out and stroke one of them, and she cringes.

"But then again, it was your choice." I grab her and sink my fangs into her throat. She gasps, tries to struggle. I hear her sob once, then all is still.

Done. I can feel her blood flowing into me, joining with my own. It's a rush, like a freefall, one I will admit I sometimes yearn for. Maybe I'm not so different that she was after all.

My shadows retract as I walk to the door connecting my car to the next. The door slides open and I feel the rush of cold wind on my face. The night greets me as I step outside, and join with the darkness.

Yet another night on the trains.