*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1365711-The-Hunters
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1365711
Just a little random story I wrote a little while ago, bit of a twist too it at the end.
He sits upon a bench, its cold hard surface creaking with age and disuse. Not a very common sight within a park, yet this deep into the seemingly overgrown jungle of plants, cutting out what little moonlight was visible on such a cloudy night.

Shaking hands caressing one another through the scuffed and warn leather gloves that adorned them. Kept from a time long past when things were easier, a reminiscent fantasy of balls and fancy clothes; now the subdued and tired man found himself wearing what those who saw him classed as rags, old pieces of cloth that would have once been an elegant tunic.

Seemingly at war with the world around him, he shifted away from the bright lights of the cars racing about the busy streets, the shrill cry of a woman, followed almost too quickly by the sirens of the law.  All the noises, never ending, chaotic, ramming into the mind like a drill does into the concrete. Causing his hands to involuntarily rise up and cover his ears, protecting them; trying to drum the noises from his already over loaded mind. Tears beginning to well throughout the crystalline blue hues as once again he felt himself crumbling, his knees raising themselves up to rest against his chest, burying against the warmth in comfort; letting him rock slightly as he muttered. To all those who passed by; few as they were, he appeared to have lost his mind. His voice rising and falling with the battle that no one seemed to pay attention too.

A group of girls came staggering into the maze of weeds and trees, giggling furiously. It was obvious that they were blind drunk, without a clue as to where they were or how they’d gotten there. Another party, another one to go to in the town that never slept. One of the girls, seemingly 20 in appearance with all the makeup and voluptuous clothing noticed the man in tears, rocking back and forth. The girl was rather stunning, shoulder length wavy brown hair, lustrous brown eyes with an almost flawless figure and as her eyes lay upon the figure before her she realized that she’d seen the likes of his actions before and for some reason, her training as a nurse went into gear.

“Hey I’ll catch up to you all.” She called out to her friends, who merely waved at her and continued on their way to the next celebration, the next night club to see if they could get lucky, leaving their friend alone with the man.  Easing her frame down to the opposite side of the bench, leaving no subtlety in the way she was approaching him.

“Hey…Are you alright..? If you need help I know of a place you can stay.” She spoke out soothingly, though her words seemingly fell on deaf ears, tears continued to plaster their way down the porcelain like skin of the sick man, his words still spilling forth like a leak in a barrel, blurred and unable to be understood from the various sobs and gasps that flooded out from his crying. Slowly the girl edged closer, the brown strands of her hair fluttering slightly as a cold autumn breeze rushed through the trees surrounding the two.

“Come with me, I’ll take you there.” She uttered out softly, one of her hands reaching out, so tiny and delicate to caress her own cold, rough hand. Almost instantly the man stopped mumbling, his eyes parting, revealing the glistening blue hues, the stunning pupils that had drawn so many women to him before he’d lost it all. His own eyes stained red from his crying. Gently her hand grasped his own, drawing it away from his ear, starting to rise upwards, trying to get him to follow her.

“No!” He cried out in a rasp, deep tone, trying to draw his hand back from the girl’s own. His other hand tightening around his other ear, almost as if he were trying to shut out voices from within his own mind; yet the girl persisted, gripping tighter against his hand and holding it. Uttering out sweet comforts to him, idle talk, who she was, what she did for a living, where they were going to go and slowly, but surely the man’s struggles seemed to dissipate, his hue’s rising to meet her own beautiful brown gaze looking back down upon him comfortingly. The man, broken and diminished recovered some of his posture as he rose to his feet, a slight pride blasting forth, even though he wasn’t all that tall, it was apparent to the girl that he once had it all. His eyes were what gave her this impression, gazing into her as if he were reading her very soul, making her feel almost foolish for being so bold.

His gaze was so bewildering and strong that she didn’t feel his elongated canine’s sinking into her neck, puncturing the very vein that gave her life until his grip was too strong to thrive out of, her cries of agony echoing out into the night, being drowned out by the endless sounds of the city, yet another meaningless death for the city that killed by the millions. As her lifeless body fell to the gravel like ground beside the chair, the man wiped clean the red liquid spilling down from his lips. Sighing in contentment, finally the voices had silenced, all that he had been fighting had ended. He had accepted what he had become, a rather sadistic smile upon his lips as the idle thought played through his mind.

'Well…She did want to help…’
© Copyright 2007 Vladimir (adamxrhoades at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1365711-The-Hunters