He scoured the night sky, black-tipped wings wide as a dark shadow, haloing the world beneath. The city's rooftops glared silently back, all stone-grey and immaculate. He smiled, like death, as he could feel it in the air. The wind shifted like ice...
He scoured the night sky, black-tipped wings wide as a dark shadow, haloing the world beneath. The city's rooftops glared silently back, all stone-grey and immaculate. He smiled, like death, as he could feel it in the air. The wind shifted like ice, cool beneath his wings. Deep within his loins, burned a fiery hunger. It was time to feed.
There were so many choices, as he watched the mechanical beings like zombies on their pavements, like their mechanical cars and mechanical communicators. Their eyes drooped low, as they shuffled home on their way from work, hunched-shoulders and flat, falling briefcases. He soared through the grey mist of the city's streets, polluted with combustion; and yet, he couldn't stop thinking of her.
"Fuck...I need to get a day-job." He muttered, and swooped downwards, eyes flashing fiercely. It was as though a sensor inside him was blinking, as he zeroed in on his target. It was a woman; outside the alley, your cliché bleached-blonde, in her short red waitress' outfit taking a smoke. The street alarms grew louder as he drew closer to his dinner, still invisible to the mechanical beings below.
"Dear God...if that man makes another move..." she was muttering, as she flicked her white lighter.
"I swear I'm going to call the cops..."
He could sense the anger rolling off her body in waves; her aura shone a bright-red intermixed with a moldy, yellow color. She was no Peyton Clarke, but she'd do. Her body shivered under the cold, her dirty-blonde hair limp and wet in its pony-tail. He watched her take a draught, closing her eyes in exhalation.
"I swear to God, he's like the devil himself," She was saying; she had a distinct New-York accent. Droopy purple bags hung from her eyes.
"Fucking dirt-bag..."
The dark-angel decided he'd had enough. Dismissing this target as his feet touched the concrete; he glided past her invisibly right into the centre of Pizzario's restaurant. Instantly, annoyance tugged at his shoulders. First of all, the bright lighting was horrible; in fact he'd been irritable to all forms of artificial lighting ever since the transformation. Then the constant, useless chatter-both thoughts and spoken aloud, as he sashayed through the red-painted building.
Yeah, he's totally cheating on me...
I'm going to drag that bitch so hard...
"You know how the paparazzi is..."
"Hey, have you heard about..."
Slowly, he allowed his veil to crumble, revealing first his starkly-ridden dark combat boots. He strode authoritatively up to the counter, as a hushed whisper fell over his velvet-black coat. His boots echoed on the tiled floor, as he met the glare of the skinny cashier-guy, standing inches away. He knew he was powerful, and he radiated it in waves. A black-gloved fist struck the green-plaid counter.
"Bring me the manager." He demanded throatily, gaze skimming behind the counter. The brown-haired cashier guy raised his thick brows.
"Yeah...one sec batman, I'm kind of in the middle of something." He snapped sarcastically, before turning his attention to the woman in line.
"Yeah, you were saying lady? Two large frenches and a what'?"
The fat lady glanced between him and the cashier nervously, before coming to a conclusion. Shuffling her glasses on her nose, she stuttered nervously.
"Uh, that's okay; you can d-deal with him first." She squeaked out, and the cashier guy scoffed, and pointed to the dark-angel.
"Who, batman over here? Wannabe Voldemort, like, bro' halloween's three days away..." He chuckled, shaking his head.
"World of warcraft, anyone?" He carried on the joke, while the fat lady surreptitiously snuck out of line. The cashier was still chuckling to himself when the dark angel struck out his gloved palm, clutching at his throat. He gasped instantly, circulation cut-off as the angel reached fiercely across the counter. His eyes bulged with fear and grudging admiration, while the rest of his body broke out in cold-sweats. The dark-angel took this opportunity to bring his lips to the ear of the cashier.
He could tell he'd just pissed his pants.
"I said. Bring me, your manager." The angel seethed darkly, voice cold like iron. The cashier guy sent a soft prayer up to heaven, before nodding his head. The angel dropped him to the floor with a thud.
"If-if that's your order..." He chuckled breathily. The angel nodded, impolite.
"You're late, my son." He snapped, blood dripping from his teeth. Brustarios' footsteps echoed down the hollow pathway, as Justin the vampire glided haphazardly in. The room was dark; dark and moist and dead bodies decorated the cave's bed.
"I'm not your son." Justin snapped coldly, and Thaddeus smirked.
"But I wasn't referring to you." He replied warmly, and Brustarios strode in, with a chuckle. Thaddeus could smell the dinner on his lips; oh how proud he was of the transformation...of a reverse-guardian-angel...all those sacrifices...at the church, the school-children...the parents...And now one of the most powerful creatures in the supernatural world...was indebted to him...was sired to him.
The dark shadows loomed conspiratorially, forming a triangle-like shape. It had been months. Loads of time had passed...since he allowed the young one to be left alone.
"You've been checking up on our...little one?" He murmured, and had the pleasure of watching them squirm. Fools, he thought. Surely they wouldn't allow such human desires to get in the way of their plans; besides, she was already promised...to that bastardly angelwolf. That bastardly wolf who had killed his sister. Oh how he was going to get his revenge. Justin's eyes fell to the floor, while Brus' turned hard and cold.
"She's under the care of Ayora Finn; her real mother. They were able to convince the courts...with a little help from us, of course." Brustarios intoned.
"She visits the gravesites every-day...and Emily-Rose has yet to awaken..." Replied Justin and Thaddeus really hoped that wasn't a crack he had heard in the boy's voice.
"Once she's let her guard down. What do the humans say? 'All's well that ends well....' it's only a matter of time before her were-kitsune powers kick in...and then she will be mine to command!" he promised fiercely, slamming his fist down. The ravens outside squawked into the night, bearing testimony to his words as their wings soared over the barren, looming trees, of a pitch-black night.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
