Draven Hawke

CHAPTER TWO

                                                                                 Year: 2017

     The time had long passed since Draven Hawke paralleled the fellow Johem. A villain in his own right, Draven turned his lost wife and daughter into a fuel that drove his lack of conscience. He scoured the streets of New York, day in and day out, feeding the force that compelled him to kill.

     Draven stalked the rapist down a dark alley, looking like an angel of night. As he closed the distance between him and the unsuspecting man, the crystal pulsed within his chest cavity, shining through his porcelain skin and fading his long brown hair into a pale luminosity. His movements were indecipherable to the human.

     The smell of urine, cardboard, and sin swarmed his flared nostrils. Draven dismissed the homeless; to him, they were breeders of addiction and ruin. He kicked the boxes and sleeping bags as he moved, destroying what little sanctuary a person may have had. Music, laughter, sirens, and car alarms sounded together, creating an orchestra of rebellion and greed.

     As the thug approached the last turn, before he found a crowded street, Draven landed in front of him, grabbing his throat, and lifting him to the stone wall behind him.

     "I've been watching you," Draven whispered, a menacing edge arched his brow. " I don't think I like what I've seen." He threw the scrawny man to the ground before he rushed over and picked a blade from the man's pocket. "You like to over power women, but you are too weak to fight with your own hand. I know how you hold the knife like this." Draven spun around placing the knife against the man's throat.

     "Please..." The lurker begged. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt anyone, I swear it."

     "That is a lie." Draven smirked, pushing the knife tighter. Draven looked into the man's eyes, forming a connection on a subatomic level. " I can read your conscious," he said, exaggerating the last syllable.

     "No..." The man cried his last plea. Without hesitation, Draven slit his throat, tossing his body like the waste it was, into the overfilled dumpster beside him. As he walked out of the dark alley, the crystal neutralized, returning Draven to his natural form.

     This was Draven's only pastime. He hunted and killed those whose thoughts were lost to evil. The problem was, that with each kill, Draven became more powerless to the crystal within him. After 200 years of murder and trying to bring a state of equilibrium to his immediate surroundings, he had almost no humanity left.

     Draven wrapped the blade with a white handkerchief and put the knife inside his blue velvet jacket. He walked with confidence. People shuffled out of his way, giving him space in an otherwise crowded environment. It was as if they knew, from instinct alone, that he was omnipotent. There was nothing physical marking him as something other; the humans could not know that he was stronger, faster, and smarter, but he sometimes wondered if he released a resonance that repelled the weak.

     Just as he stepped through the door to a chemistry supply store that held all of the periodic elements for his survival, something small and cold jerked him to a stop. It was more the shock of physical contact that halted him, not the feeble hand that shook with anxiety.

     "Excuse me," she spoke, voice trembling. "I was back there on 8th street..."

     "Are you following me?" Draven cut her off, spinning to face her and grabbing her wrist. The girl's whole body tightened as she leaned as far back as she could. Her eyes grew wider still as Draven set his tawny gaze on her. She took a deep breath, holding it in. "Answer me now, girl," he whispered low but demanding. She couldn't answer, though. All she could do was shake her head. "If you're not inclined to answer, might I suggest you accompany me to dinner?" he asked, changing his approach upon realizing frightening the female would not get him far. He needed answers. "There is an organic food market nearby if you're hungry," he said, while at the same time trying to pinpoint why this human seemed odd to him.