edited and rewritten

The Prince rips her throat with a slash, and crimson red blood splatters all over his body. Bright red blood adorns his sharp nails as her body falls with a thud onto the dirty ground. Upon his warm beige skin, he wipes the blood from his forehead staring at her dirtied body on the ground. Blood and dirt cling to her body, and her frightened dead eyes stare up at him.

Walking around her, his heavy black boots thud against the dirt and he bends down. Humans always did fascinate him, they're so weak. It's magnificent how they're still alive. He lifts her hand and feels her pulse. There's nothing there. She's dead.

"Hmm." He mutters to himself.

He stands giving her one last look then he walks away, leaving her body there. He didn't mean to kill her. He was hungry and accidents can happen. Eh, it's not like there's going to be a hole in the universe by her death.

He wipes off his hands and takes a cloth to clean his face before he goes into the Palace. He doesn't need the endless lectures from the King.

Many trumpets sound as they walk down the hallway. The servants and everyone else stand aside in a queue, bowing as they walk through. The Prince walks past them and pride swells in his heart at the sight. Without sparing them a single glance, he gets inside the limo that's waiting for him. There's a separate limousine for each one of them. The Prince, the King, and the Queen.

Inside the limo, the driver winds down the window. Showing the side of his shaven face to the Prince, he says, "Good morning, your highness. Your blood is inside the fridge."

The Prince nods, then the partition divider rolls back up. He cocks his head to the side looking at the mini-fridge. He opens it and then grabs the bags of blood, drinking all its contents.

The limo begins moving, and the Prince leans back looking out at the world. The scenery of the summer trees passes him by in a whir. He waits to arrive wherever they're going.

In the silence of the vehicle, his mind wanders to the night before. Stressed with work, he decided to let off some steam by feeding on some humans. Amid his feeding spree, he had forgotten about a meeting the King called. Oh well.

Ten minutes pass and the limo slows down until it comes to a stop. The partition divider winds down, "We have arrived, your highness." The driver says.

"Thank you, sir." The Prince says, his voice void of any gratitude, and the driver nods. The Prince brushes down his royal suit then the driver gets out of the vehicle, opening the door for him. As the Prince steps out, the driver bows before him.

The Prince, along with the King and Queen, walk into the café. As they walk in, people from outside follow their every move. This café is only for royals so they don't get the 'paparazzi-like' looks when they go in.

They sit at their table and begin indulging in small talk.

"I see that you were absent once more from another meeting." The King mentions to the Prince as he folds a napkin on his lap.

The Prince picks up the menu and sifts through it. He ignores the importance of not attending. "Oh, that was last night?" He asks, acting as if he knew nothing of it.

The King sighs with a frown, dropping his menu. "Don't play stupid with me. You knew that it was last night. We were to discuss many important things." The King scolds him. He gives him the lecture the Prince was trying to avoid.

The waiter comes up to the table and takes their order. Instead of responding to his father, the Prince decides to smile at the waiter and give him his order.

The waiter bows before the royals then he leaves with their order. The Prince turns back to his lecturing father, "Well I'm sure my absence made no difference." He takes a sip of his cold glass of water.

The King opens his mouth to say something back to the Prince, but the Queen acts as a mediator between them. "We spoke about many wonderful things, didn't we, honey?"

The King swallows what he was about to say and nods. "Yes, we did. You can part-take in that the next time we hold a meeting." The King takes a jab at the Prince.

The waiter brings out the food and they begin eating in blissful silence. The Prince prefers it this way, small conversations are useless and stupid. The silence is better.

Meanwhile, outside the café, many people with cameras are trying to sneak a peek inside. They try to take a picture of some of the royals, to be more specific, the most important royal family. Much to their dismay, the bodyguards push them away.

When they finish eating, they all stand and prepare to leave the café. "I still don't understand why we had to come here instead of eating breakfast at the Palace." The Prince mutters, and the Queen wraps her arm around his.

In an instant, he moves away from her. "It's to keep up appearances, your highness." She responds, dejected.

When they walk out of the café, all heads turn to them and the paparazzi swarm them. They throw out many questions to the King and Queen but no one dares to question the Prince.

"Your royal majesty, what do you have to say about the future of this country?" One reporter shoves the mic in the King's face.

The Prince's father, like the excellent King he is, smiles and answers the question. "I can say that the future of this country, if not this world, is safe, secure, and prosperous." He says.

Many of the female reporters blush at his voice as they listen to him. Then there's one reporter who looks at the Prince with hesitance in her eyes. She has a slight blush on her face, and her boss pushes her toward the Prince. She stumbles forward, and the Prince's light brown eyes rest on her anxious figure.

He cocks his head to the side as he waits to see what she'll say. "Um, y-your royal highness, may I ask you a question?" She asks him and everyone becomes quiet.

No one ever asks the Prince questions unless he initiates it. They're too scared to. They've all heard the stories about him and would rather stay quiet than voice their thoughts. Their fingers tighten onto the body of the microphones.

The Prince hears the heavy beatings of their hearts, and a small smile climbs upon his lips. He nods his head toward the reporter as if to say, 'go ahead'. She swallows then takes a deep breath.

"Um, what do you have to say about needing to have a partner before becoming King?" Her voice waivers as she asks the question.

The Prince sighs as he tries not to appear bored. Every single time. Every time they ask me a question it's this one.

"And I'll have one when I become King," is all he says then he walks away, leaving them with more questions than before.

His driver opens his door for him and he steps inside. He rests his body on the cool seats. Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes and thinks about what the latest news headline will be. It'll be the same stupid thing about his non-existent partner.

'Oh, when will you get a girlfriend? Why haven't you dated anyone recently?'

The Prince groans as he reminisces about all the irritating questions he's had thrown at him. None of your business, that's the answer. He has to 'keep up his image' even though that doesn't make any sense. His image is already tainted.

There's no use fixing it, no use in trying.

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