I carelessly push the lifeless corpse of the girl away from me, her body landing with a dull, wet thud in the filth packed alley; human waste and garbage stacked high against the walls, rusted drain pipes dripping rhythmically in the night. The light of the moon reflecting off her pale skin and dark green eyes giving the briefest impression that she was still alive until you saw the gaping; jagged wound in her neck and the way her eyes were already glossing over, taking on the milky colorless qualities of death. Letting out a satisfied sigh, wiping the few remaining crimson droplets from my chin, casually licking my lips savoring the final fleeting moments of her life and then it was gone; memories, loves and losses gone forever lost to all but the creature that had taken them. Well not so much a creature, just someone with some exotic tastes. Depending on how they looked, I sometimes made a little snack of my kills, waste not want not and all that. This was how it always was; and indeed always had been for the last two years ever since I’d decided murder was more fun than working at a library reading about murder instead of committing them. The shell of humanity at my feet was just another tally on the board, I’d stopped counting a while back.
My name is… well my name isn’t an issue, not that you’d have heard of me anyway. Never even been called in for questioning. I’m sure they’ll get me one day, because I know I’ll never ever stop, I can’t. After a while the pressure becomes too much, like an anvil pressing down on my back taking everything out of me. I need to have a taste… a taste of death.
I bend, brushing the girl’s eyelids shutting them, it has become a habit of mine one which I’m not sure I understand but I still perform this little ritual with each kill. I step from the murky side street into the protective light of the streetlamps that make people feel so safe. They will never be safe, not all of them. Always going to be strays that get lost from the flock and picked off by wolves.
"Pathetic fools", I murmur, slipping silently though the crowds of people milling about even at this late hour. The city that never sleeps, talk about an understatement.
Booted feet crunching on glass. The few people I pass rarely look up and if they do its only to ensure they don’t walk into one and other, I don’t draw a lot of attention to myself. I like the gothic look but not so much that I stand out, as cliché as it is it appeals to me and suits how the rest of me looks pale skinned with a spiky shock of black hair. A smile plays across my lips, I barely notice until I catch my reflection in the window of a parked car, raising an eyebrow, I keep walking. A smile isn’t a regular occurrence. Not anymore, not the kind that people would consider a smile. My face was usually permanently plastered in the same look of disinterest. When someone was as apathetic as me, very little brought much real enjoyment. Except the hunt and the kill. Nothing else really mattered now, and hadn’t for a while. It used to pain me at first. I felt disgusted, horrified that I had such a hunger for murder. Not really anymore, I get it now. Now people are prey and some are predators.
Taking the metro home, saves me the walk and its also a good to simply disappear from the area, in the crowd spewing in and out of the dilapidated underground i’ll just be another faceless entity of the city.
It was just like any other station in the sprawling urban capital of the world, New York City. The smell of stale piss, vomit and sweat assaulted me from the moment I entered, there was the slight urge to cough and gag but I’d smelt worse.
Slipping through the iron gate I make my way quickly through the station ignoring the hands of stall vendors handing out flyers and the usual crap. A drunken beggar dressed in torn denims and a greasy rain jacket raises an equally dirty hand towards me.
"C-can… yah spare some change…"
He wheezes his words slurred, turning towards the pathetic creature crouching down in front of him I smile kindly, “It’s better this way”. I murmur softly looking into the man’s eye’s as they go blank I reach round and sever the spinal cord with a jab from the small stainless steel spike I carry easily concealed in any coat pocket, it sinks through his decrepit flesh like a hot knife through butter, I shiver a little with joy at the sensation him fading away how I had taken his life with such ease. You really had to marvel at how as fragile as us humans are we had became the dominant species.
Pulling back and standing I don’t even bother looking around, no one cares, no one would even notice the poor bastard until he began to rot. Even more now than when he was alive, I wipe of my hand and the spike and turn away, a smile lightly tugging on the corners of my mouth a thin line across my gaunt face I guess that counts as my good deed for the year I have to admit there is a certain urge to apply as a volunteer at Help the Homeless. I suppose the irony isn’t lost on anyone. Surprising myself I let out a little chuckle which earns me an odd look from an elderly woman, “I just love helping the less fortunate”, I say baring my teeth a little, the laughter follows her down the empty platform as she hurries away clutching her bag. The train rushes into the station dust billowing out from under it as it whines to a halt, I brush my hair from my eyes and make a move forwards, stepping out of the way quickly as a stream business men hurry off, normally I would have pushed them aside but I was in an exceptionally good mood today, better than I had been in years. Finding an almost empty car at the back I sit down in one of the seats, its moth eaten upholstery is faded and stained from years of abuse. I lean back and put my feet up on the one in front cool air blowing over my face.
A crisply uniformed man comes along the carriages looking for tickets, digging into my pockets I hand the old guy some cash, “Keep the change”. Looking at my feet balanced on the seat in front disapprovingly he tosses a dirty look in my direction but obviously decides it isn’t worth his trouble and moves along, grumbling about the young people these days. A wicked grin stays spread across my face for the entire journey to the nearest station to the dump I call my flat; it paid to be low key when you killed three or four people a week. More if the mood struck me. It wasn’t a long journey and within minutes I had reached my stop this station was even more fucked up than the first.
Stepping from the train I quickly make my way into the street where rain is hammering down in sheets, dodging other commuters and ducking into the back alleys I walk past doorways and the neon signs of brothels and drug dens, this area truly was the most backwater place I could find. I shove my key in the lock and twist, pulling it open. I cringe at the creaking sound. I should probably oil it later or something I muse taking a step through the door. Then suddenly blinding hot pain and then nothing
"Did you like my present?" A woman’s voice asks coldly, I stir a little more at the sound, I can taste something wet and bitter on my tongue. Blood? Bile? maybe vomit, I couldn’t tell. Everything was dim and twisted to my eyes. My tongue feels thick and heavy with the texture of sand paper I want to throw up but I keep it down in my gut, my heads killing me blinding flashes of searing pain exploding like little bombs inside my skull, her voice isn’t helping its cold and heartless and mocking. And self assured, whoever the hell this woman was she thought I was out of tricks. I go to move my hands and realize I’m tied to a chair, okay should have probably realised that one beforehand. Wiggling I slip my hand into the pocket where the steel spike resides, I nearly let out an audible sigh of relief when I find it there, barely managing to restrain myself incase it gives the game away. I get it out and start slowly sawing my way through the rope, my tongue still feels like a dead weight I move it and try to speak,"Whurago" Is all I manage to get out, it’s enough.
"I am the person you took everything from… Like so many others, I know what you are and what you’ve done" Contempt, anger, hatred and fear was dripping from her voice. I’m thinking more clearly now the blow to the head is easing the pain diminishing, “If you know all that, I really can’t allow you to live them can I" The rope uncoils around my wrists as I slice through it, I keep my arms behind me, chuckling a little as she takes a step forwards.
"You killed my sister and I don’t know how many more, justice will be done… the police have failed, everyone has failed, not me though I kept going for her" Another step forward and she raises a hand from behind her back, in it is held a shiny pistol, her knuckles are white as she chambers a round and presses it against my forehead, "Justice…" She mumbles almost to herself.
I stand and bat her gun hand out of the way, a brief moment of fear as it swings past my face the muzzle pointing at me almost in slow motion, then it swings out wide and I slam the spike into the side of the woman’s neck, dragging it slowly across her throat giving her a second smiling red mouth. The gun falls from her hand as she goes to her knee’s clawing at me, even in death she is still desperate for vengeance I can see it in her eyes. Gurgling weakly blood pooling around her. She falls back with a nudge and I smile as she hits the floor her life spilling out of her in streams of silky red.
I roll her over and shut her eyes, still smiling. That’s the problem with prey; sometimes they think they can become the hunter.
