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Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1939905
A dark inhuman man sets out to hunt his assigned prey at the dead of night.
         The gray fog overhung in the sky as his golden eyes stared upwards. The night was black yet shone a twinkling bluish hue, dotted by silver stars. There was a chill in his breath, mixed with the small heated twists of murky smoke from the cigarette clenched between his grit yellowed teeth. At forty seven years old, his long threadbare duster did not help keep his aged body warm. Instead it seemed to enveloped him, and drag at his ankles. He had become accustomed to the constant chill of the brick paved capital, and the empty darkness of this night. With so many people inhabiting the city, one would think it wouldn’t be so bare. However its citizens knew better than to go out at night. They knew that the night held inevitable dangers, ones that he chose to ignore.

         He stepped away from the edge of the road and onto the narrow grouted sidewalk that ran down the length of the rows of buildings. The auburn light of the glass oil streetlamps overhead were quickly fading. His vertical slit irises focused and then centered themselves, his vision in the late night strengthening. He could hear the soft tap of his footsteps echo behind him and he paced forward, pausing only to slip his cigarette from his mouth and take a breath. His leather gloved hand rummaged over the stiff open box of playing cards resting inside the woolen folds of his coat pocket. He knew their feel, for their paper edges were dilapidated with use. By gliding his lanky fingers over the deck’s brim, he could easily slide them in and out of their package. In his other pocket he carried a copper pocket watch, a lighter, and the rest of his constantly dwindling supply of roll-ups.

         The translucent wisps of nightly haze began to collide with other puffs of crisp air. Slowly they merged into lugging dusty looking clouds, covering up what little bits of soft light the dead oil lamps had given off. The city appeared to diminish with the light, and for once it didn’t seem so large and congested. He found peace in this silence, for he was never one to enjoy company. Ever since he was a child, he had a certain hatred for the city at daytime. Stalking the grounds at night seemed to fit him well, as it did for his kind. The dark called to him, as it called to his blood. It was alluring, and only nature to him. It was where he was bred. His mind began to race with the sensation of the hunt as the last beam of light passed from city, and the deep blackness took hold.

         The wisps parted into a clearing, exposing the full whitened moon. His pupils dilated, the lines in the color encircling them sharpened into thin points. His lips darkened against his ashen skin, and pulled back into a slender grin. His yellowed teeth gritted onto his cigarette, and in one swift motion he yanked it from his mouth and pitched it to the ground, stamping the glowing embers into cinders. An enthused growl dug into the back of his throat, rasping out into the chill. His shoulder blades jerked back, and he darted into the night, hands firmly buried in his pockets. He was inhumanly rapid, and his gangly legs had sudden fluid grace. His beady eyes became as bright as starlight, and the grinding sound of shoes against cement could be heard far behind him. His gaze never once faltered; he stared forward, now unaware of his surroundings.

         A rush of enclosing shadow reeled and cloaked his body. He became a blur. The air pushed gusts into his lungs, and came from his mouth as jagged rasps. His head thrust forward, and his pounding feet blended into curved spiked claws. The grinding of breath pulled forward with his snout, formed thin and angular. He had become an animal. Down his back, the bone of his flexing uneven spine was visible through his thin fur covered skin. His skinny whipping tail was crooked and covered in the mange that ran down his form. His pointed ears were pushed flat against his skull, his eyes wide and thick froth spilling down his chin. Sprinting on all fours, he was a rich and distorted charcoal. With winding streaks of shadow straggling behind him, he most closely resembled a wolf with unnatural blaze.

         The hunt. That is what he was sent for. He wasn’t the only one out in these late hours. His eyes darted back and forth searching for his prey. He could feel the crawl in his mind, the sudden spark of recognition. His legs locked straight, and his nails clicked as he skittered him a few inches forward. Pausing, he carefully moved his head both ways, his pants slowing. He twitched at the faint scent of spice and coppery aroma that suddenly came into the air. The silvery hairs on his muzzle shivered, and lowered his head down against the street’s pavement. He stepped towards the lingering scent, hesitant. He had always associated this odor with the distinct taste of human. Often weak and predictable, humans were easy and unfulfilling game. However this was his assignment, and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.

Come and find me
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