Every full moon, the wolf would appear to devour another sheep — it was the way of things.
Always at night and always hungry, the wolf would appear to chase the herd until one could run no longer. When it fell behind, the wolf took the weakest sheep into its powerful jaws and disappeared into the night.
While most of the sheep looked away, one did not. It watched, saw how frightened the other sheep were, and offered comfort to others.
But the wolf noticed the sheep that watched, and on the night when the moon became darkest, it came and took it away.
“Why do you watch?” the wolf asked, not yet having devoured the sheep.
“To understand,” it replied. “There must be a secret that can save us all.”
The wolf laughed. “I will reveal my secret, for it cannot save anyone.” With that, the wolf became a sheep.
“You’re one of us,” the sheep gasped.
“One need not be seen as a wolf all of the time, but it is ever what I am inside. You see such things and that is dangerous to me, but you will watch no longer.”
The wolf bit the sheep, and the sheep fell into a deep slumber.
When the sheep awoke, the wolf was gone, and so the sheep wandered back to the herd. No one in the herd had ever survived such an attack, and a few accused the sheep of bargaining with the wolf, for how else could it survive? The sheep denied the accusation but could not speak the whole truth, for it understood it would be shunned.
On the next full moon, the wolf returned. When the herd scattered, the spared sheep did not run.
“Join the hunt,” the wolf commanded, and the sheep became a wolf as well.
The fear from the herd was palpable upon seeing two wolves, and the sheep smelled delicious to the predators, but the new wolf turned and faced the old wolf down.
“Why fight me when there are sheep for the taking?” the old wolf asked.
The new wolf answered, “Because I remember being one of the sheep, and I will watch no longer.”
And it became the way of things.
Copyright © 2016 Kevin A. Ranson. All Rights Reserved.
* * *
It felt like a parable kind of day today.
Yes, it hurts. Believe me, I know. 
You can buy fake blood, but it usually isn’t edible. For a character cosplay I’ve been working on for conventions, I wanted a sophisticated, dapper, vampire-about-town…walking about with a wine glass filled with his preferred drink of choice. To look good up close, you need something dark red but not fake looking, thick and sticky like it’s just starting to clot, and believably cloudy. And hey, shouldn’t it be delicious?
When someone says “You’re like a vampire!” to a living person, that’s a simile, a comparison using like or as. When some says “You’re a vampire!” to a living person, that’s a metaphor, a comparison NOT using like or as. Living people are not actual vampires because vampires are DEAD THINGS that, by definition, are not alive – otherwise, they would not be a vampire. Feel free to compare all you like, but the following is the ONLY definition of a vampire:
Some of you may be aware of the Vampire Community, not just fans of the genre who embrace the lifestyle but those who believe themselves to be actual vampires. Psychic vampires absolutely exist, stealing your energy or lending it with their very presence, but I’m not talking about (to quote Ian from 
58,800 words written in 48 days completes the first draft of this third book (out of a planned four-book series). Now it’s time for a well-earned step away, letting the words settle on the page for a bit before trading “good enough for now” up to “as near to perfect as any mere mortal can hope to be.”
October 24-26, 2014: 
Kevin A. Ranson 