Every girl's parents warn her about Internet predators. But Mommy and Daddy can't order me around anymore.

I've been talking to him for a month now. I see him at the end of the dark street and start running in excitement.

I stop.

He's not a nice-looking boy, but an overweight middle-aged man. He grins at me with yellow teeth, and I grin back, my growing fangs gleaming in the streetlight. His eyes widen. My claws hook onto him before he can run.

Blood runs into the gutter. His screams, mixed with the ravenous, wet sucking sounds of my feast, fall on deaf ears. How considerate, telling me to meet him in the deserted part of town.