Wilder

2.

Wilder stood with his head tilting to the side, his eyes having no presence. His stance was intimidating, and his hair fell to his face strand by strand.

The presence of the sun and my glance did not disturb him as he waltzed around the bigger guy like a cat around a mouse. I mean, the build may talk differently, but we all know who the predator is.

Wilder threw a punch, and I saw how emotionless he looked as his fist collided with flesh. I was leaning against a wall, feeling the cold creep into my bones and watching with a disinterested expression. This was not something that bothered me, but then again, I would rather not get involved.

"Why the hell are you attacking me?", the guy held his jaw and looked at Wilder and then me, giving up a second after he noticed my stance. He knew I wasn't going to help him.

"Oh, I almost forgot", Wilder giggled, ruffling his hair so it shone dazzlingly in the sun, his smirk slightly disturbing. Such a charicature of a smile on a face with no expression is eerie.

"This is a message from Amanda", he took a step further and dodged when the blonde guy threw a sudden hit at him. Blondie laughed in the alley, the sound echoing through the empty backstreet.

"So you're her new fuckboy?", he snickered with disgust, "She could do better"

"Amanda is...far too vibrant", an annoyed expression landed on Wilder's features, but it went blank once again when he threw a feint at blondie and then threw him to the ground a second later.

"I mean, it's a good way to blow off steam", Wilder said in a plain tone, making it sound like he was being sarcastic, "Also, making cash these day..."

The skinny boy's words were cut short when a hand roughly caught his ankle and pulled him down, and I almost considered getting involved when Wilder used the power of the landing and knocked the guy's teeth in.

I almost cackled at the thought of Wilder needing money. To be honest, the reason for him beating someone up was not known to me, but he certainly wasn't in need of ash. He had far too much of it, but he avoided using it because of his mother.

No, he was doing this for some other reason. Pushing limits, sadism, just because he had nothing better to do?

It's fucking creepy how cold that boy is.

The blonde guy was on the floor, a line of blood on his tan skin looking like it wasn't real. Like makeup extremely realistic, a sharp line went down his chinned and dripped onto the cold cement. A large body suddenly appearing fragile, transparent, pathetic.

It's weird how irrelevant someone looks once they're on the floor.

One kick in the chest send his head back as it crashed into the concrete, the next one had him defenseless. A cough of pain made its way to my ears, but just I kept on watching.

Wilder was moving so elegantly and dangerously at the same time, his movements as if cut with a scalpel and dripping in savage. There wasn't any sort of expression on his face. Not anger, not determination, or even pleasure.

It was disturbing and eye-catching in a way you can't look away from a corpse.

One kick and punch after another, it was like a machine rather than a human. It was just something to do.

When the blonde finally stopped resisting and I realized he had finally blacked out, I sighed and leaned back, closing my eyes. But the hits kept coming, making a melody of flesh being crushed and mutilated. And though I was never a guy to be disgusted at the sight of blood, this was sickening.

But it was also amazing.

It's confusing how someone that was so raw, so vulnerable yesterday, can be so numb the next day. Wilder is a mystery.

"He passed out", I said as I stepped forward and pulled Wilder back by the shoulder. It was surprising that he was so light, so human, after witnessing a scene than would make an assassin ashamed of their humanity.

"So?", was all he said, trying to shake my arm off. When my hold on his bony structure tightened, he turned around and kicked me so suddenly I lost my breath and froze up. A full strength punch in the face, the leg, and the stomach.

It was more brute than I had expected but also less than what you would fear after seeing a scene as sinister.

The force lessened with each one, my hands balled up into fists at my side. Wilder's hair fell into his eyes, a curious look landing to the blank.

"Why aren't you fighting back?", he looked up at me as if I was crazy, as if I was deranged.

"You're hurt"

My breath came out in the form of mist in the alley suddenly turning dark, and a shadow fell over the skinny guy's features as he looked at me with shock. His left hand suddenly rushed to pull down his sleeve, only to find that it was still in place. It nervously lingered on the damaged flesh hidden under thick fabric before forming into a fist.

"Fuck this", he spat out, giving me a look of disinterest before turning around and walking away.