Trails of Trepidation.

Chapter One

“The threat of Ghouls is imminent, sooner or later they will end up with the human race, and God knows what they'll do to the world.”

“How long… just how long will it take for them to come after us with greater force?”

“The government clearly needs to step up, we cannot allow this to go any further. The future of our children might be in danger!”

Day after day, the same thing got transmitted on the news. Every morning, every evening, and every night the topics were Ghouls. It didn't matter in what part of the world you were, everything was about ghouls and definitely not in a good way. They were constantly dissed, insulted, hated, and even more. And just as in any other place, they had to live hiding. A life spend running away and afraid, pretending to be something you're not and that everything is fine, when of course, it isn't. A life filled by the fears of being caught, and later be turned into one of those briefcases, or worse. Many said that this specie was cold hearted, with no feelings, and their 'special abilities’ made them indestructible, but that was all a lie. The life of a modern ghoul was nowhere near easy, not even with those so-called 'special abilities’. They were constantly persecuted, and God forbid anyone who dared to feel a minimum of sympathy for them, for it was the most evil of all sins.

•  •  •

Agnes Everett was sitting in a distant booth inside a small coffee shop located north of 59th street on the 11th Avenue, what is called —and often referred to as— West End Avenue in New York City. Her figure hidden by a thick dark grey sweatshirt, that looked way too used and baggy for her; her thin legs were covered by black jeans, her favourites; and her feet with the typical dirty white converse shoes that many people of her age used; and finally, on her head —and covering part of her messy hair— was peacefully resting a light grey hoodie. The perfect outfit for what seemed a stormy day, or at least she hoped. One of her hands was resting inside the pockets of her oversized sweatshirt and her other hand was on top of the cream-colour-table, playing with a small bag of sugar that was in there when she arrived, rotating the small pink bag on her fingers over and over again, and to her left, a nice and warm cup of dark coffee was placed. She hadn't even given a look to it, after all, she wasn't there to be a customer.

The small TV in one of the corners was on, reproducing the news channel in a low volume in order to not disturb the customers that came and went. A normal person wouldn't be able to hear what the news anchors were saying, but her sharp sense of hearing could perfectly catch on to every single word that was coming from their mouths.

“Tsk.” That small sound escaped her lips as she turned them to the side in clear disgust. Another ghoul attack being reported on the news. The censored pictures were being transmitted nationwide, and she suspected the actual scene must've looked bloody and filled of guts. Just that thought​ was enough to trigger her growling stomach, and she immediately grabbed the coffee and directed the cup with such force to her lips that a bit a  of the dark liquid slipped down the corners of her mouth and directly onto her subtle chin, slowly dripping. It wasn't enough to fully satisfy her hunger, but it was enough to calm it for the next several hours probably, if she was lucky enough. But everyone around her just seemed extremely exquisite at the moment, she just hoped to be able to jump out of her seat and kill everyone. She wanted to open their bodies completely. Being able to tear them apart, give a bite of those chewy and tasty organs that were hidden within the pleasurable taste of human flesh, the oh-so-sweet aroma of fresh blood that immediately filled her nostrils. It seemed so delicious, enough to make her mouth water with a slight thought that once again, made her stomach growl. That's why they said the hunger of a Ghoul was the most terrible curse of all.

She swallowed hard, once again focusing her attention on the tv, until the familiar 'ding, ding’ of the door filled her ears, advising that a new customer had entered the place. She immediately turned her gaze over to the door, already knowing who it was, how could she miss the fragrance his body expelled? That of blood and the typical aroma of a ghoul. The young boy looked at her as he made his way towards her booth, giving her a small smirk and tilting his head slightly to one side.

“It seems like it's going to rain.” He pointed out while looking​ outside the window that was place not so far away from them, it was big enough to let you have a quick peck to the outside. She ignored his comment, they weren't there to talk about the weather, even though something like that could be bad for a ghoul, especially with the direction the things were going. The rain usually nulled a ghouls senses to half of what they used to be for the amount of time that it rains, making it perfect for investigators to go on their hunt. She just hoped not to meet any of those on her way 'home’, or else she'd had to fight, which wasn't a good thing due to her condition.

Leaving the packet of sugar she had been playing with right back where it have been, her turquoise eyes met his caramel orbs in a second.

“Is it real?”

She asked in a soft, low whisper. Seemingly scared of any other people hearing their conversation, even though everyone seemed to be on their own worlds, minding their own business.

“Well, it seems like it. The boss doesn't quite let me talk about it.”

The boy said followed by a small shoulder shrug, making his brown scarf shake with it. In her head it made sense that 'the boss’ wanted to keep it a secret for as long as they could, not wanting to raise panic within the ghoul community. But at the same time everyone was curious, especially after hearing the multiple rumours that had been circulating around the last couple of days.

Once again their eyes met, and she immediately turned her gaze towards the big window now pampered with small drops of water hitting its delicate glass.

“It’s raining.”