A man was walking alone in the woods at night.
"I-I'm not scared," he reassured himself. At that moment he heard a clap of thunder and jumped.
When the crash subsided, he slowly collected himself.
"M-maybe George was right... Maybe I sh-shouldn't have gone this late."
His flashlight flickered and died. He dropped it in horror, the darkness now enveloping his vision.
There was a rustling of leaves near him, seconds later a twig snapped a few feet behind him. He spun around, terrified.
"H-hello? Anybody th-there?"
A deep voice replied, "tell me, are you afraid of the dark?"
After a minute of silence, he started to walk towards where he heard the noise. Nothing was there.
"It was just my imagination."
At that moment a man tackled him to the ground, gripping his throat with one hand and his mouth with the other. All of his face that was visible were his eyes, glowing like a cat's eyes in the dim light.
He tried to scream, to free himself, but he couldn't breathe.
The man bit down on his throat with inhuman fangs, draining the life from him drop by drop.
He tried to struggle, to get free, but he couldn't. He couldn't move. It was getting increasingly hard to move, and within seconds he had lost consciousness.
The man stood over his lifeless body, grinning.
"Famous last words."