From his friends. From his mother."NO!" he screamed, gritting his teeth and baring his new fangs. Hecouldn't do that to them! He respected them, looke... up to them, lovedthem all!Which was why he had to cut them up, of course~."STOP IT!" he wailed, tears now running down his shifting cheeks. Morethoughts and images flashed in his mind. Cut them up~! Slice them open~!Fill the air with blood~!He didn't want it. But he did. But he couldn't. But he should. But heloved them. So he had to.He sobbed. When he knew, he called me an 'ass bandit'. Which, I was annoyed with. John came out of the bathroom looking like a hurt puppy. I just wanted to kiss that sad pout from his lips. "Are you ok, dude?" "I will be, once I get a cold drink," he said surly. I looked at him and he looked like he needed some rest. He looked like how he was. Drunk. I said, "John, I think you've had too much to drink." I was literally running after him. He was so damn tall, and his long legged strides were 2 of mine. I. More

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