Strolling the park deep in thought before my feeding, I was rudely interrupted:

“Incoming!”
To my dismay I was struck in the head by a hooligan who bolted through the trees screaming:

“Psych!”
I dashed after the vermin, head pulsing into ears. What nerve of someone who should be terrified:

“Too slow freakizod!”
Hadn’t he seen my fangs? Hadn’t he noticed I was not to be reckoned with? That I was about to…
Smack!

An ache ravaged my brain like singing angels. What had I ran into? Nothing was there, except:

“Need a lift?”
Richly filthy hands he had but such strength to bear me up with his meek pale arms:

“Man I’m sorry I had the wrong dude”
He told his tale of his angry neighbor who had turned him to the authorities, several times.

“For being too loud”
At various evening activities with some hooligans I’m sure. I then recalled seeing him before:
“You’re that insane metal head!”
I had heard him late at night while snacking, which I was reminded of being famished. Time to dine.

“A rebel like you is needed in these times…too bad you’re my next course.”
The boy barred his teeth and raised his fist. He was old enough to die, his eyes showed seeing too much.

“Come on now, respect your elders…”
That got me knocked to the ground as that punk ran off howling to the wind. And to my dismay…

“You took my amulet!”
I tend to forget which ones had been turned