Hunger [HIATUS]

Prologue

The last sunrays sparked through the dark clouds, a thick blanket enveloping the city below like an oppressive coat. Behind them, the sun looked like a sick patient, struggling to come out just to be swallowed, inexorably choked down as it disappeared.

The mountains north of Risbury were steep and harsh, far from the civilization and the chaos brought by men. And yet they provided the perfect spot to observe the city below.

The old man liked chaos, he was born in it, but sometimes a more detached point of view was required. That's why he chose this place.

Well that, and a tiny part for his personal amusement.

He liked to see the city from above at night, to look at the sparking lights and the people below, toiling like ants to gain more wealth only to buy things they didn't need. The lights were the embodiment of that illusion, the erroneous belief that all their progress, their riches, and science could keep the darkness at bay.

They couldn't, of course, they couldn't, but who was he to say otherwise? After all, It was he who gave the pharaohs the idea of burying themselves with all their wealth, he who invented the usury and always he who forged the first coin, convincing the ancient men that currency was the foremost symbol of civilization.

Of course, all this happened thousands of years ago. Since then the apprentices, the human beings, have long exceeded their master, inventing many creative ways to shackle themselves, finding their own path to damnation.

In the last years, he had been just an observer. Until now at least.

"You never got tired of watching them, don't you?"

The old man didn't turn. He didn't need to. Like usual he felt her long before she talked.

For a moment he enjoyed her closeness, the resonance taking place when two of their kind met just to grimace when he went deeper, trying to establish a connection. He hated that smell, hidden deep beneath the surface.

The sour stench of a soul.

"I see you still haven't erased her." He said with disapproval.

She shrugged, noncommittal.

"She has her uses. Especially now that we are so close."

"Close yes, but to what? We are taking a huge risk with this plan of yours." He warned.

"That bloodline already failed us once. You remember that right? What happened twelve yea---"

"--it won't happen again." She interrupted him. "We won't fail this time."

He shook his head but didn't insist. There was no point.

"Is he ready at least?"

"Oh, he is ready." She smiled. "I can feel the smell of his desperation. A little push is all he needs; then he'll be perfect." She said, looking at him with expectation.

The old man took a deep breath.

"Do it then."

She smiled and then she was gone like she was never there. The old man frowned.

He could feel the warmth of her smile, the happiness radiating from her like something tangible. Joy was a human emotion, one the Seven never experienced.

He was almost worried for her.

Almost.