The Price of a Trapped Soul

Ten minutes sitting, staring at the page. The small delicate letters swirled and twisted across the page making it hard to read. The room was dark and murky looking, it was hot and muggy. I closed my eyes for a moment as the flashes seared the inside of my eyelids. I felt a burning sensation tearing into my back. The custom was a long lived tradition that had been born over two centuries ago. The knife had been sharp, and the cuts had been clean. I had earned them and now only time would tell if I was chosen.

My platinum hair cascaded down around my shoulders as my eyes searched the surrounding area. The music was loud, and the lights flashed shining on the seething bodies dancing to the beat. After my initiation, I wanted to get out. I had often disappeared off on my own to think. My mind began to wonder as the music blared. For some strange reason this was were I felt safest, in the heart of filth, but thought was not the initial reason for my coming here; I was here to hunt.

As I focused I felt my eyes shift across the room roaming for the animals I sought after. I was in one of the worst clubs in town, no one came here without something to sell, or buy. A flash of blue silk directed my eyes toward a boy, not much older than me, he had green hair that faded to black near the roots. I observed him for a split second, assessing my advantages, to the outside world he was just another human; to me he was prey.

I pushed through the crowds of bodies crammed together, packed into a synchronized mass. They blended together in a mix of color and sequins. I was disgusted at a race that had once rivaled my own, and now were swilling their knowledge away with drink. Jolting myself out of thought I remembered why I was here, to kill. I lost sight of him for a moment, and my heart lept but I calmed myself, I had to stay icy for the kill. It would be easy. I wasn't wearing my usual gear but it would do. I slid a knife out of my thigh's sheath, it felt cold and balanced in the palm of my hand. After taking another look at the boy I began the hunt.

I ducked as he turned and I was sure he saw me. He sped up now at a fast walk for the nearest door. I saw him enter a door marked "utilities". I was at the door. I opened it out into a dark and muggy room that smelled of rats, I saw the boy turn through a hallway lit by a single flickering light. I followed. I smelled a faint hint of burning candles, which would have been odd in any place but here. I advanced gaining on him, finally I saw the hall dead end, and I knew he would have to turn eventually. There was no doubt he knew who I was, or more importantly, what I was.

I felt a rush of wind as the boy changed form, the boy had been a phantasm, only an image. I knew you could touch it, see it, but at any moment it would be gone. The race was over, it was either me or him, and I was determined to win this round. This one, and every one after.

His eyes had turned a sickly white as they were drained of all color; where his hair used to be the boy grew spikes, long and sharp like razors. His skin turned to a leathery black that was tough as iron and riveted with scales. I had underestimated him.

In the moment before we sprang to action I thought about what today's ceremony really meant. I felt a sense of anger that had rested in my core for the last three years, had it really been worth all that? I had become so lost in thought that I hadn't realized he was ready to spring until he was almost on me.

Seven years of training had paid off. I felt my muscles tense and pull a knife from my waist sheath, I was armed to the teeth tonight. He realized only too late that my blade was out and ready for his hurdling body. The black form twisted to avoid an almost perfect blow. I felt the blood spatter the wall as my blade cut through muscle and flesh. It turned after yowling, a mournful cry screeching in my ear. My blade slipped and I snatched it back. Wiping the flat of it carefully on my wrist, careful not to cut myself, I readied myself for the kill. It was swift and clean, and the monster turned to ash in my palm.