He sat next to the bar, slowly peeling a label off his bottle of beer. His black cowboy hat rested over his forehead as he leaned back, precariously balanced on the back legs of his chair. The sharpness of his nails went unnoticed by the rest of the people in the bar. They were too busy doing the Friday night ritual of trying to get a date for the weekend, or at least for the night. The men were more obvious, except for those trying to play it cool. The women were trying to act like they were out with friends, but the frequent glances around to the veritable meat market of wanna be cowboy flesh betrayed their true motives.
He chuckled to himself. He didn't think a single one of these people even knew how to ride a horse. Sure they all had the boots and the hats and the jeans, but all were too clean and new. The suburbs were probably as close to the country as half these people had ever seen. He hated being this far into civilization, but the masses of people gave him the best camouflage possible. In this city filled with strangers, no one would notice him. More importantly, no one would notice his feeding habits.
He glanced over the tops of his sunglasses at a pretty blonde thing. Some dumb looking guy was obviously trying to pick her up. He seemed a typical jock, probably could do more pushups than his IQ. She didn't seem like she was falling for his lines – or his biceps. As she kept turning away from him, looking back at her girly red drink, he saw his chance to move in. He stood up, the click of his boot heels inaudible over the sound of the music being played. People on the dance floor were trying to line dance after too many beers, but no one was noticing.
He reached the near side of the blonde. "Hey Buddy." He spoke past her to the dumb jock. "The girl wants you to leave her alone you fucking moron." He wasn't that tall, barely six foot, and his frame was a lot lighter than the jock's. He didn't back down an inch though as the guy stood up to his full height, a good six inches over him. He must have been outweighed by another sixty or seventy pounds too.
"Are you stupid, cowboy?" The jock started to crack his knuckles. As the two men approached each other, the blonde girl quickly got out of the way. Her sudden movement caught the eye of the bar tender.
The man behind the bar ran over, "Hey! No trouble in here, guys. Take it outside or go sit down." The bartender didn't back off until both the antagonists moved towards the back door. The blonde was left watching the men leave through the back.
He smiled as the door closed; the big jock didn't have a chance. He took his sunglasses off. Even in the dim light of the alley, the streetlights shone off his metallic golden eyes. Suddenly his arm snapped out, grabbing the jock by the arm and breaking it in one quick move. Almost immediately, the jock was on the ground, knocked unconscious. As he pulled the jock's body off the pavement, he smiled. The back of the limp body's head was split; a deep cut on almost to the skull was oozing blood. He smiled as he pulled the limp body up to his mouth, easily lifting him with a single arm. As he sucked at the back of the body's skull, the blood pouring down his throat, he glanced back at the door. No one would think anything when they found the unconscious body. A couple of pints of blood wouldn't be missed by the big lug.
