By day, Connor was a normal boy. But by night...

By day Connor groaned when his alarm clock went off. He'd reach his arm out and swipe in the general direction of the blaring sound. Sometimes he'd manage to hit the snooze, other times he'd just knock the alarm clock to the ground. After hearing one or both of parents yell that he was going to be late, he'd get out of bed with a groan and begin to clean himself up. He showered, he brushed his teeth, and would throw on jeans and a t-shirt. He'd grab a quick breakfast, search for his book bag, and sprint out the door. If his twenty-something year-old car that he'd saved years of lawn-mowing money for would start, he would drive himself to school. If it didn't, he would run for the bus. Either way, he would get to school where he would spend time with his friends until the last bell rang and he had to make his way to class.

He was a good student, and would work hard in all of his classes. Though a scrawny looking boy, he was a great athlete, not only incredibly quick-thinking and moving, but also seriously strong. He was also constantly hungry. At lunch he could eat twice the food the other boys did, which left little time for talking. He flirted with girls, showered in the locker room, and participated in numerous extra-curricular activities.

He dated a handful of girls. Their parents always liked him, and even trusted him, and he always used a condom. When they eventually broke up, they always managed to stay friendly.

He was also a good son. He always managed to get his chores done before being told a third time, and even offered to help out when it wasn't necessary. He would help his sister with her homework if he had to, and would even hand her the TV remote occasionally. He never stayed out with his friends too late, and he told his parents where he'd be. He wasn't interested in drinking or drugs really, but he was popular and often invited to parties.

He'd do his homework every night before bed. He always put away his books, brushed his teeth, and said a quick prayer before crawling under the covers.

But at night, while lying in his bed, Connor felt different. Out of nowhere, he would smell the feint scent of blood, hear a soft Irish lullaby, taste a hint of dust, feel cold hands smoothing his hair away from his face, and see a pair of piercing eyes looking down on him with a pair of equally piercing fangs curled into a smile. And with all of that, Connor would finally feel content, and be able to fall peacefully and soundly asleep.