Behind The Searcher

Round one: Dead, unconscious or asleep? I eyed the woman lying face first into the cement, unmoving. I turned her over and pressed my scabbed lips to her forehead lightly. She shuddered, and jerked awake.

Ah, so you were dead…

I chuckled as she groaned, struggling to move into a sitting position and without success. She passed her fingers through her tangled hair. Any man would have found her stunning; to me, she simply looked like another pale, trembling mortal. No, I was attracted to her in an entirely different way. The exquisite stench of pain, terror, and death clung to her skin. This particular human was lucky she hadn’t encountered me a few centuries ago. Back then, I was far more vicious. Nowadays, I take the time to savor the pain and enjoy each excruciating moment.

As the woman lay in a crumpled heap, I leaned over her and pushed back a loose strand of her hair. I sighed, my voice echoing around the car lot where we rested. The ancient yellow paint was peeling off the damp walls, and a hollow dripping sounded from a far corner.

Her eyes darted around, betraying her fear. That wouldn’t fool me anyhow; I could smell her terror a mile away.

“Hush now…” I rasped, taking her shaking hand within mine. “It will all be over soon.”

Still in shock, she did not respond to me. That is, until I dug my pointed finger nails deep into her hand. She gasped, and tried to fight me. But she could not win; her body had given up on her and exhaustion had set in. One hand holding her down by the shoulder, I took my finger nail and sliced it down her forearm. She hissed in pain. I continued going about my work. The woman was still struggling within my grasp, but with every cut she grew weaker. I began to hum tunelessly.

After a few minutes, I let her fall back into the loving arms of death.

I left the building, and wandered around the back alleys of the city. My hungering for pain thoroughly satisfied, I watched the hazy sun rise, and awaited my next victim.