Untitled

Part One

I love their pain. Their screams sound like music in my ears. Their terror tastes sweet, rich with life. All that too short, pathetic life. Their lives are nothing but a waste, only spanning 70 or 80 years, never amounting to much more than simple reproduction, creating more wasted lives. But their pain and terror… Their fear explodes through my senses like a ripe blackberry on my tongue. Their broken screams that rip their own throats is beyond music. Their torn, mutilated flesh sends a thrill through me, even at the thought. Their dying pain is beautiful and delicious.

The girl in front of me stares at me through hard, defiant eyes. She’s a fighter. Good, that will pay off later. She looks strong, for now. The girl’s skin I’m already wearing was strong, too. Strong by mortal standards. Weak by gods’ standards.

I remember the girl who gave me this body. She was thin and smaller in stature. Her eyes were a soft blue, her hair a rich chestnut color. I suppose she would be considered pretty by human standards. She’s bland, unnoteworthy, and worthless by mine. But I admired the fight she gave, defying me until her last breath. She refused to admit pain, holding out longer than any other human I have ever met. Honestly, it was almost a shame when her fight went out. But her pain I found when I ripped her mind open made my heartbeat quicken and sent me into a happy, peaceful oblivion.

Looking at this girl now, the new one, makes me eager to see if her blood will sparkle like wine on my tongue, too. The thought makes my gut clench and toes curl. The toe curling still takes me off guard— the way the human body responds to these desires. The girl stares, burning me where I stand. That’s all I need. I move.

Part Two

Their husks were just scattered aroung the alley. I was walking home from work and it was getting dark, so I was just trying to get home; it’s not safe for women to walk alone, especially after dark, in this city. It was the last day of the week, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw a thin leg peeking out from a small alley— probably some wasted chick who passed out before she could get home from the bar. I kept walking. I saw a hand further down the next alley. The arm extended behind a dumpster. That was probably the homeless man who had grabbed my wrist with that very hand last week. A shutter passed through me, remembering the uneven lines on that hand, the half-crazed look in his eyes as he gripped me harder and started pulling.

And then I turned into the back alley that led to my apartment. I usually took this way because it’s faster and empty, my safest way home. Then I wished with a shaking ferocity that I had taken the main street, when my eyes took in the half dozen or so bodies strewn along the pavement. This wasn’t just dead. No. This was empty and drained to death. These bodies looked like they’d been dead for centuries. Except one. I saw a smaller girl, probably around my age, about half-way down the alley. Her hair was matted and tangled, a smudge of bright crimson along her cheek and forehead. She was struggling to stand, so I ran to her, to get her out. I had no clue what happened here, but another life didn’t need to be lost because of it. When I got closer, I saw her hair was a rich brown, with shades of possible gold and red. Her eyes, I noticed when she looked up at me, noticing me, were a soft blue, full of...relief? Terror. The possible and sure relief was drowned in terror. I didn’t blame her. I’d be terrified of this mess and relieved to see another living face, too.

I grabbed her hands and pulled her the rest of the way to standing. She wobbled and I wondered if she was in some sort of shock or something. Probably. I wasn’t sure if moving a person in shock was the best idea, which it most likely isn’t, but we had to get out of there and get help. I’m not sure who would be getting help because we were fine and those other prone figures were very beyond help. But getting help seemed like the right step forward.

I tugged the girl forward, towards the mouth of the alley. We needed to get out. My spine tingled with shocks and warnings from my nervous system, not that I needed that electricity to tell me that something was so not right. “Where do you live?” I asked the girl. She didn’t even look at me. Her blue eyes were pinned on something in the distance. She looked like she was staring through the building looming over us at the end of the alley across from ours. I pulled us back to a stop and grabbed the girl’s shoulders, facing her to me. “Where do you live? I can take you there and make sure you’re safe. Where do I need to take you?” She just stared at me blankly, her eyes wide and confused and almost crazed looking. She probably wasn’t even listening to me. I shook my head. I’d take her to my place. She’d be safe there.

We turned back into the alley. This was still faster, but I REALLY didn’t want to walk by those bodies again. I told the girl I was taking her to my place and that it was less than a minute’s walk this way. We stumbled down the road until my back porch stood to our right. There was a bush half in the way, but I got us in. I turned to relock the door behind us and could’ve sworn a Ferris, triumphant smile spread across her face. It was gone when I looked back at her.