I need to feed! It hurts, I need it so bad. I'm so close, just need to wait for him to fall asleep. I watch closely, experience telling me the moment his mind begins dreaming. I place my hands on either side of his face, gently, so as not to wake him, and press my lips against his, and push my tongue past his lips.
Instantly I'm there, inside of his mind as it produces exactly the type of psychic energy I need, filling me with strength and life. Keeping me alive.
I spend the better part of the night feasting on his dreams. My presence becomes part of them, though I am able to affect them much more than he is aware. By the time I leave him, he has hardly any left.
I never feed enough to kill. My prey will only feel lethargic, listless, and devoid of emotion for a couple of months. No big deal. It's not like I want to do it, I don't have a choice. It's what I am. A dream-eater, demon of the lowest rank, living among humans as a basic necessity for my survival.
I only have to feed about once a week. The rest of the week passes like any other. For now, I work as a bartender at the local biker bar, Biker Bob's. It's the perfect place to find prey. Men and women both can satisfy my hunger.
I feed on Saturday. On Tuesday my prey walk through the door. I spend a little time getting to know him. After all, I have 4 days to go until the hunger drives me to feed again. I have everything arranged, set up a date for Saturday, and the unthinkable happens.
He stands me up!
The next day is bad. I don't work on Sundays, so I spend the day in my apartment, irritably throwing things, touchy, reactive. hangry. I blame it on my date, of course, and come close to deciding to drain him completely.
Monday, another work day, I can hardly get out of bed. I feel weak and lethargic, can't hardly keep my eyes open as I attempt to apply makeup. As bad as it is, I know I can manage. I've gone weeks before without feeding, each day worse than the one before.