edited and rewritten

The Vampire Prince sits on the roof, lying down on his back as he looks up at the stars. The twinkling of different burning celestial bodies brings him peace. In his head, he identifies the different constellations and names of the stars. The cool air of the night cools down his warm body.

On a beautiful night like tonight, the milky way galaxy doesn't shy away from showing off its beauty. The twinkling lights stir around one another in a dance only they know. It brings light upon this dark, laden earth.

He moves his eyes from the sky and down to the people. They rush to and fro trying to get into their homes to avoid anyone who might be hungry enough to feed on them.

Even though feeding on humans—if they weren't blood donors— was illegal it didn't stop many vampires from doing it. It's easy to do, especially for the ones who are strong enough to enthrall a human mind. Like him for example.

He was the Vampire Prince, no one could throw such accusations his way and take action. It's fruitless to try.

He starts to hear police cars racing down the street. He rolls his eyes. Even with the progression of vampires in this world, humans still feel the need to hurt one another. What's the point of that?

He goes back to lying down on the roof, looking up at the night sky. The stars dance together, creating light into the darkness. Something he thought wasn't possible. When something is dark and it attracts light, that light gets drowned out. It becomes darkness also.

There is no way light can brighten the darkness.

He hears voices from inside speaking, they mention him. He gets up, sparing one last look before going inside to see why they're discussing him.

He walks down the long hallway with huge portraits along the sides. They're of his father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and so on. He'll have one when he becomes King—if he becomes King.

He goes to where he hears the voices coming from, he recognizes them to be Mr. and Mrs. De Clare, his family's lawyers. At this point, they're more his lawyers than his family's. Anytime they're called it's because of him. They're called to talk about stupid things.

He finds himself going to the meeting room. He opens the big doors without care. The room silences at his arrival. He strides in with power, not caring if he interrupted something. He sits in a chair, putting his feet up on the table.

Flora looks at his feet on the table with squinted eyes but she says nothing. Smart. She wouldn't have gotten them down anyways.

"I heard myself mentioned. What are we discussing?" He asks, folding his hands and placing them on his lap. Making himself comfortable.

The King looks at him frustrated, his temper short and he's tired of dealing with the Prince and his antics. This is the last straw. How dare he?

"I have looked past your horrible outbursts but this one I cannot look past. We must deal with you and you have no say in the matter!" The King loses his temper.

The Prince makes his face up. Why is he acting like this Because of those rumors of heartbroken girls and the lies they spew?

"You're all acting like this because of a few heartbroken girls? I'm sure they can get over themselves." He says, ignoring how upset the King is.

Out of all his scandals, the King seemed mighty perturbed by this one. Even though it's less disturbing than the rest. The Prince couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"No! I'm talking about your latest one." The King shouts and the room shakes.

The Prince creases his eyebrows. What 'latest scandal'?

"What?" He asks.

"You're expecting an heir!" The King shouts and the windows shatter.

Flora rubs her temples in frustration. She's tired of having to get men to fix the shattered windows. Could they tune down their anger a little? Even though the King's right.

The Prince gets out of his chair in an instant. The force from him getting up kicks the chair away. Twenty feet from where it was before.

"What did you say?" The Prince asks, his voice low. The window panes shake, threatening to break themselves off.

The King doesn't move a muscle. I'm used to the Prince's outbursts. The Prince needs to sit down and behave like what he'll be soon—a father. The Prince has done many dumb things before in his long life but this is the dumbest.

He will have an heir out of marriage. I've never thought of the Prince to be that reckless. Now, we can't fix his mistake. The King ends his internal monologue to focus on the raging Prince before him.

"You heard what I said! You impregnated a human! You're not even King yet! You will sit down and hear what we have to say. You no longer have a say. You lost that when you proved you're irresponsible and we can't trust you!" The King spits at the Prince.

The Prince's blood boils and he balls his hands into fists. Anger swells in his chest. He keeps his deadly stare at the King. Red fills his vision as he tries to stop himself from ripping out his father's throat in front of everyone.

His balled fists begin to shake and so does the entire room. Like an earthquake, things begin to shake and fall from their places. They smash onto the tiled floor.

"Your highness, please calm down and sit." Flora reaches out to touch his arm but he moves away. The meeting table crosses the room and flies out the window. The windows smash and glass flies everywhere.

The Prince says nothing, he turns around walking out. With force, he slams the doors closed and they fall off the hinges. While he walks back along the hallway. The portraits of his father and forefathers shake and fall to the ground, shattering.

He continues walking as the workers come out of their rooms to see what is happening. They see the Prince walking; anger controlling his every thought and they step out of his way. They don't forget to bow before him.

He flees the palace and to the commoners. Even though he's not hungry, he doesn't want food. He wants to make someone hurt. Make them pain so much they beg him to kill them.

He goes into the first house he sees and he grabs the first person he sees. He pushes them to the wall, aiming for their neck. He sinks his fangs into their neck and he hears a small cry. A cry like a child's.

He steps back immediately. Blood rushing down his lips, he stares at the small child before him. She cowers in fear, holding her neck in pain. No older than seven, the Prince observes.

She continues holding her neck, putting pressure on it. Feeling the immense pain, she doesn't scream. She only looks at the Vampire Prince with fear in his eyes. She thinks that if she screams for help, he'll kill her.

The Prince steps toward her, he needs to make the pain stop. He didn't mean it. The little girl scurries away, letting out small whimpers, begging him not to kill her. His heart weighs heavy, but he can't let her go feeling this pain. He grabs her by the shoulder, taking her up. The girl's tiny body shakes in fear.

The Prince turns her neck to the side and the girl lets out a whimper of pure pain. One of the purest. A child is too young to feed from. They aren't able to accept the hormone which makes the process feel painless. So they feel everything. It would feel as if their entire body is on fire. From their scalp to the tips of their toes. This girl is strong or scared of him. Through all that pain, she doesn't scream.

He bites his wrist then he brings it to the little girl's bruise. In no time the wound retracts itself along with the pain. The Prince lowers her to the floor and takes slow steps back. The anger that was there a few minutes ago, seems to vanish and he's only filled with painful regret.

Without a word, he disappears, fleeing from the little girl's house. He goes onto a random person's rooftop. He looks up at the stars. Even now he can't seem to recall their names.

His every being is filled with regret. What did I do? How could have I fed from a child? A child?! One of the most inhumane acts of all. Once Father finds out what I did, my future as King will be nothing more than a small thought to look back on.

He takes his eyes off the stars and down to the now empty street. The difference in how he feels before and now—is a big contrast. He scans each house then he catches the sight of a familiar curly-haired girl sleeping.

Adara De Clare, he thinks to himself.

He stands.