(Character)=Sorath
00:47 Nov 13 2011
Times Read: 419
(Character)=Sorath
She caught and spluttered on the ground as was the usual ritual, Eyes glazed yet seeming to fix to mine although I knew she couldn’t see any detail in my face, just a figure, always a figure. Her fishnet type t-shirt pressed and held her body awkwardly and was ripped from the neck to mid cleavage, revealing the spider web design on her bra that was not so clear when the top took its natural form, her dress also clawed high at her thigh's, as if trying to reach between her legs with all the vigour and lust of a young man. She began to breath heavily and her fingers curled and grasped aimlessly at objects that weren’t there, she was consumed with fear now, I could taste its energy as I stood beside her, it seemed to resonate from her very being, she knew she was dying and she tried to otter the usual words, "please help me, I’m a good person, I’m to young to die"!, I had heard it all before. Don’t get me wrong, Life and death are the most beautiful of all things and the one thing that we can all be sure of, but I really didn’t care. I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth and quivered with the strength and complexity the taste of her offered, I wiped the small amount of blood that remained from my lips and took a second to breath and collect all the fragments of the situation, my eyes raped a quick glance around the dark alley, the music still pounded from the other side of the clubs side door, live music, nothing thrilled me like live music. I could see my reflection in her eyes, a slowly darkening image of my figure in the dim street lights as her head finally rolled to one side. She breathed out her last breath and her soul clung to it hitching a free ride from its used shell, its broken shell, bright, ever-changing silver, gold and white, it hovered for a moment and then ascended quickly and brightly towards the stars, " One more for you father, Add that to your list”!,
I reached into my black coat and pulled out a fishing knife, I knelt down over her corpse and took the blade to her throat, burying the point a half inch below the skin and repeatedly dragged it over the bite marks slicing perfect lines of river red that stained her clothing and the pavement. It’s always better to clean up after one’s self, cover the traces of foul play.
I was glad now that I had came out tonight, the air smelt sweet, and I could still pick up the various CK and Armani fragrances from the club goers inside, dancing to powerful black metal drums and guitar, Lustful and entrancing, but I could no longer linger here, I made my way round the back of the club, out a side street and into the main canopy of lights and sounds all crazed and buzzing like a medieval battle ground, where no one knew there place or procedures, the air was thick with exhaust fumes and alcohol. The moon she was governing all the places that were hers when she dawned the sky, and it would be only four days until she was in full bloom, full strength, as would I, the mania that she brought clearly portrayed itself on the streets as the drunks and the wealthy alike found abuse and hostility their first language and everyone in their own way was getting a little jumpy, you could feel it in the air, the strongest of us felt it so much more acutely than the rest, you could literally feel your blood burning, your soul longing to claw its way out upon the earth to find nourishment for itself but I had settled that score for the night. The best bars where the heavy music ones, places that it didn’t matter that u either looked like an outright nutcase or just a weird shadow, no one cared, sometimes it was even a turn on to women or men that pegged you as a kinky Goth or an adventurous metal head, I wasn’t quite either but I did look the part.
Walking dreamily amongst the moon crazed, towards kings bridge I picked up her scent again as I had done earlier in the night, I pictured her crumpled corpse in the back alley drained and soul-less, I tried to imagine what kind of welcome she would receive when she reached him in the blessed place, would she be cast down and forsaken with all those other tarnished within the earth, simply for being of mixed blood?, although She knew nothing of her hereditary condition, but to those others like me she smelt new and vibrant, like the first spring bud eaten by grave. There were more, many more, I could sense them as if they had been placed on the great web of all things, around the city and all over the world. Many underwent the change in puberty but few knew the meaning of what they where, what I was and what would befall them when I found them, one by one ending their existence, for Ezekias, he the creator of all.
For one year now we had been on this killing campaign, stripping the life from any of those that showed the change or traces of it, he said that the human population would not be able to sustain the ever increasing amount of us and he ordered the extermination of all those we came across, I had felt it fit to ask, whether our kind could survive such mass culling but he assured me that all those beyond the order could not be trusted and renegades posed a bigger threat to our survival than the legendary flood.
Desolate at best these new foundations of hope, filled with a dishonesty that surely only him upstairs can be responsible for! War heads directed at every region of the world, they born from corrupted coins under the control of governing false idols. But I try not to concern myself with the modern world and its slowly crumbling fantasy's, it wasn’t always as such.
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