Petra watches as the man quite literally became unhinged, giving up that carefully manufactured façade he had forged so well for himself. One she had almost considered as iron clad, but she was a skilled creature. She could see right through him with those penetrating daggers she possessed for eyes, they sliced through that careful tenacity of his, layer by layer or perhaps, or it was more like cracking an egg. Regardless, it wasn't that difficult to call out to the monster that lay in wait.

Witnessing that hunger, that primal urgency and power that radiated from him was intoxicating, she could get drunk off that very sensation. She dared to play with those long locks of hair that would look so much better drenched in blood. The coldness of his skin started to alter to warm, with every deep pull of blood that he consumed. He stole that heat for himself.

This was the real Malek, or so she thought beyond that mask.

The trickster grinned that sinister toxic grin, unseen by him as he unravelled and yet she should have been wary of the monster she asked to come out and play. But Petra was never one to be wary but toy with that evil everyone possessed, playing upon emotions like they were mere toys.

He quite suddenly left behind that empty husk that was once human a heap on the ground. Her illusions lifted only shortly after he took that first tentative bite. The rabbit was a mere façade, but by now he knew that, by now he didn't care. A catalyst that unlocked that virtually dead flame within him. She was pressed against that wall roughly, felt the bite of the brick, as cold as she into her back. She didn't feel any fear as she looked into the eyes of the dangerous beast she had awoken from a dormant slumber. He seemed alive, more so than she had ever seen in those moments in the bar where he nursed his whiskey and shared his innocent tales of past.

His eyes may have roved the delicious lines of her body and yet she seemed entirely fixated upon the fresh, still warm blood that painted his lips. It drizzled lazily from the corner of his mouth and into his beard. It practically gleamed invitingly to the woman, that intoxicating scent of chaos, death and fresh blood. If it were a perfume, she would wear it.

Petra was trickster by nature, plucking hey prey's marionette strings like she were playing an instrument with skilled fingers. Oh how she loved to see them dance to her own twisted melody.

However, Malek seems to ignore her words, as though they are unimportant. He seems as vacant as the corpse at her feet and yet more alive than she had seen another vampire. She should have been wary playing with this loaded gun and yet she revels in it as if this was the drink she had truly wanted all night.

He leaned forward as if to whisper something in her ear and all she could see was that freshly painted death marring his once clean skin. She dared to take a taste, but a taste was all it was as her tongue darted out to lick the blood from his appetizing lips. Hunger filled her two toned eyes, that welcomed gleam of predatory instinct flared to life as she allows her tongue to taste the blood of his kill.

Maybe this blood was simply the start, they could have their fun and paint this useless town a glorious red. How long it had been since she simply unleashed the full potential of what she could do?

These tricks were merely parlour tricks to what she could truly do and yet she lays in wait. Smirking almost coyly at the monster before her. He may have won against her in strength but she was cunning and lethal. He brought his lips to her exposed neck, feeling the wet blood pressed against that vulnerable crook as though he threatened to bite her.

She was trapped. Yet she could not help that languid chuckle that escapes her. She could not be caged, not by him. She could feel her power dance about her like a suffocating aura of shadows. She was not a creature who played well with others and yet she is curious, playing this game she was not accustomed to.

Petra was broken in many different ways, but she was never defeated. She slapped those pieces that was left of her and created something dangerous, something stronger, something that was no longer human. She was the one that pulled the strings. After all, with powers like hers she had learned how to abuse them how to manipulate people. She allowed her illusions to caress him like devouring shadow hands. Feeling, pressing, suffocating. Her eyes almost grew darker as his voice that muttered into her neck, offering her that boy who had ogled her before. It was enough to hone her focus turned toward the human, reminding the feminine vampire of her own hunger.

Malek took a step back to give her some space, she peers at him a moment a mischievous look playing upon her face. A slow smile spreading across her full lips she already knew what he was suggesting before he said the words. She moved so quick like an attacking snake, removing herself between him and the wall. "I suppose he will do for now." That nightingale song escapes her lips.

She could feel the prickle of something dangerous rise up within her, it wanted to rise up like a mighty beast and challenge him to show him she could have them all, including him. He thought he had control but she simply could not be controlled, much like those dangerously elusive illusions that trickster wielded.

He claimed he didn't share. "Neither do I, Malek." She replied darkly that cryptic edge dancing within her words. With narrowed her eyes, that name trickled from her tongue as if she could suck the marrow of it clean. She exposed those fangs in a strange unpredictable smile before slipping through the veil of shadows she created, she had always hunted alone. She moved toward the man that seemed to be searching for her, doing a poor job at trying to conceal his obvious stare. She didn't like the way he gawked at her, he had no right and it didn't stop most people. She could have ended him quick, but men like him, they thought they could have whatever they wanted. Men like her uncle, men like the man he had married her off to.

She moved easily toward the ogling man, trying to play it casual and clearly failing. "Do you have something to say to me?" Those sing-song lyrics were uttered almost too innocent, a delicate flirtatious smile upon her reddened lips, eyes void of any kind of real feeling. The smile was real because she was so very well aware of what was the outcome of his story. He greedily soaked her up, staring right at her boobs in such an obnoxious fashion that would make a woman with any form of self-respect skin crawl. "I can show you a good time." He uttered, his breath reeked of alcohol and arousal. He didn't even try to hide it, nor did her bother to wait to hear if his proposition was heard or even accepted. He was sitting outside waiting for some drunk girl to stumble out so he could take advantage. But Petra was hardly drunk and all too aware, of every hear beat, ever breath, every footstep. He reaches for her, his groping hands that were stained from cigarettes reaching so very close to her ass as he tried to pull her into his form. She viewed him blankly, blinking like she couldn't comprehend what he was doing. She could literally crunch him up into a tiny ball and discard of him. "I normally do not like the taste of scum" She slips away knowing the man would try to follow her. She called upon her illusions, those very real illusions she crafted so quickly that it was evident how second nature it truly was. "Come on now sexy, let me show you what a real man can do. You can't be dressed like that and not give it up.." It was that last sentence that snapped something inside of her.

He pulled her against him roughly but it was easy enough to pull away from his human strength, placing a firm immovable hand upon his chest, effectively pinning him there. She called upon her powers, large binding snakes seem to come from the walls and wrap themselves around him. The first one around his waist, pulling him into the wall and then around his wrists and chest and legs. Of course, there weren't actually snakes but it felt as real as day to him and he looked ridiculous like he was pinned to the wall. She thought snakes were fitting. But truly they were a kindness, snakes were wonderful creatures. He was lowly like a gutter rat. He began to scream and she couldn't have that. So with a flick of her hand, a python slithered its way into his agape mouth, or so he believed. His screams were severed and stifled. Tilting her head to the side to admire her handy work with a small smile playing coyly upon her lips. She imagined them suffocating and tightening their grip. She could see him squirm, eyes bulging like they might suddenly pop out. He squirmed like he could free himself but he couldn't, his mid effectively tricked his body. She touched him, along the side of his cheek and he winced at her touch. What a fearful little rodent he was, it was almost too easy to wipe that smug smile from his lips. "What? You can touch me but I can't touch you?" She feigned a pout, dark delight sparking within her eyes, a giggle escaping her. She could hear him trying to gasp for air, trying to mutter insults at her but they all failed. How could you speak with a snake in your mouth?

He tried with all his weak human might to escape and she smiles wider, moving closer to him, the choked screams muffled and hardly audible. He was about to pass out, but no, she wouldn't let him. Not yet.. She wanted him to feel this. She removed the illusion of the snake that was blocking the airflow from his nose.

One by one the snakes began to bite and strike at him, more snakes appearing from what seemed like the wall itself. She could hear his hammering heart rate and practically taste the adrenaline. She drew in a deep breath before she bared fangs and tore into his neck, she drank the hunger making her drink deep. He didn't taste that good considering he was a drunk and diseased, but the adrenaline pulsing within him made him taste better. She drank a mouthful ripping out his throat, bloody gushed fatally from that newfound neck wound. The blood looked black in that dimly lit alley, it trickled down her chin. She causally grabbed him by the wrist, quickly when no one was looking, his head scraping against the concrete. She sighed, displeased with her lack of satisfying meal.

She allows herself to look back, seeking out Malek, before simply walking away to find something better to wet her tongue. She dragged the remains of her meal into the dark confines of the club, not even the bouncer stopped her, in fact, he hardly saw anything at all with her illusions at her beck and call. She left the man propped up against a chair, he merely seemed innocently passed out. Leaving him, the raven-haired illusionist was lost in the crowd, the poor unsuspecting people interacting with one another completely clueless to the chaos that would soon reign upon them.