Sewer trash scuttles back into their dark corner with their prey firmly in their grasp. I watch it happen. She screams. The two individuals trap her against a wall and take her to their lair. The gutter awaits, in open arms for them to deliver the prize they acquired. My hood drapes over my face and the rain muffle my scathing breath. Her mascara runs, but not from the downfall, but by her tears. The two men cackle and grin. They place a blade against her lower back and manoeuvre her with it. She believes that death draws near, but she is mistaken. Death does not come to you; it waits for you to arrive. The demons and thralls disguise themselves as humans and they execute the deeds of the infinitely wicked. I scrawl my pen against this paper to serve as proof that someone has noticed. I have taken notice. I see the deceivers and they only serve as the low hanging fruit that will serve as my perch point that is the foundation for my journey. My journey to stop death's waiting.
I made my descent down the fire escape, never letting the vagrants escape my vigilant gaze. My boots stomp against the glistened pavement, and the faint cries prick my ears. They disappear, but they have not escaped. I still sense the conflict ensuing and I find the stairway into the metro station. They flee to their gutter, but fleeing is a cowardice defence that I may easily break down. The station is empty, I am the only witness. I have yet to be made known to them. They push the victim down onto the tracks and they jump down with her. They begin to walk into the darkness. I see it as the insects swarming to their hive, but smoke follows. I keep my distance, but I expect them to turn and witness my approach. Her muffled scream echoes out from the rag around her mouth and reverberates down the tunnel. She looks at me, and I see her eyes. Pale and blue, they call out to me, begging for protection. Protection will be rewarded to the innocent, and vengeance will be dispensed to those who have been judged.
She kicks her legs and as the two men try to pacify her, they finally see me. Their grin fades and rage is substituted. I halt in place. They speak to me, but I repress their vile sentences. Their words do not persist me and they have no meaning. My actions are all that need be witnessed. I step closer to them and one of the two closes the distance. Once we are inches away from each other he continues to threaten my stance against him. A part of me believes he sensed my anger, and he was hoping I would forgive him. But the pretender does not hold any power over me, and I see through the tricks and I know now what must be done. I place my hand in my back pocket and unsheathe my instrument. I thrust it forward into his abdomen and I feel his scream vibrating against my ears. I could not help but find enjoyment in their reprimand. I twist and turn my hand as the insect gets louder.
Once I am finished,his corpse tumbles to the ground and warmblood drips down my hands. The otheris frozen in place and the woman successfully breaks free from his grasp andruns towards me. But not into my arms, but to the exit. I understood herdecision regardless. She was too frightened to thank me for my gift. But the gifthad not been fully given yet. There was still a second half that needed to be claimed.However, it didn't need to be hastened. I let the vermin run. I wanted thestories to be told. So that all who serve to rot away this land, will be faceto face with their demons.
