Thursday, May 17, 2012

New: The Prologue of The Willigers!

It had been a whole month since he'd eaten anyone. And The Urge was coming again. Sometimes it hit strongest when he was bored and he was really bored this night. He'd have to go hunting again. He'd learned long ago to deal with it as soon as it started coming on, otherwise it got out of control and became dangerous to him.

He wasn't worried about his victims being a danger to him. He usually chose from the dregs of humanity; the homeless, the runaways. He usually chose the junkie shambling along, looking for his next fix, the whore standing on the corner bored and inattentive. The lost, the hopeless, the already majorly traumatized, the scum of humanity, the walking meat. Ohhh, the meat smelled so good when he was on the hunt.

But he had to be careful about who he chose, about the possibility of the cops looking for them, about cleaning up any evidence he didn't want to leave behind. He was just standing up from his recent kill, a bag lady who'd picked the wrong dumpster to sleep behind in the wrong alley. Her blood was still on his face, her steaming entrails half-stuffed into the large leaf-size Hefty bag he carried in his back pocket when on the hunt, for just such a purpose, the metallic taste of her eyes still on his tongue.

Suddenly, they were there, three of them. Just standing there, watching him. The oldest looking one, a black guy in his mid twenties in a shabby army jacket and chinos, spoke after a moment.

That's good. We always hide the evidence of our kills. That way, the prey has a harder time detecting us.
What is -his tongue felt thick with his victim's blood and the fear rising in him. Where did they come from?
Who are you? What do you want?
The leader of the four smiled slightly.
We don't want to harm you. In fact, we want to help you, don't we, guys?

The others, a young thin guy about his age in a black sweater and jeans, and a big guy, scar on his face, looked Russian, maybe, nodded and began picking up the pieces of the woman that he'd strewn about in his feeding frenzy, easily finding them even in the darkness of the alley.

It wouldn't do to leave any evidence if we can help itsaid the black guy. She probably won't even be missed but still, we don't like to take chances.
He felt confused but a little less worried. They smelled like him, actually. Not identically but there was an underlying... taint... that wasn't there in his victims or any people he'd ever met.

We'll go to my place and talk. There are some others like us. Not many but enough that it helps to connect with them. Like a club. A social club.
The leader grinned and he saw the teeth, the teeth that looked just like his own.

Hmm. Maybe this wouldn't be a boring night after all.

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