Immortality Carcinoma

The dark, moist pavement gaped in front of her as if it were about to swallow her whole. Not even her timid bootsteps left any trace in the heavy silence pressing down onto her shoulders. The air, warm and humid, stuck to her dirt striped skin, spreading unease. A wind rose from nowhere and the weary body shivered, knees giving in and slumping to the ground as skin peeled off them. The stray girl paid no heed to her pain as gravel invaded the freshly wounded flesh.

Two thin arms fell to her sides; white skin standing out against its dark background almost innocently as her rigid features softened, big, almond shaped eyes staring out into the vibrating darkness with their azure halos slowly clouding with dismay. Hair fell over her slouched shoulders, creating a disheveled mess as it stuck to the skin of her neck in sweaty strands.

Just one more listen, the distraught shadow pleaded with herself, with God, with the solid, unforgiving concrete beneath her; with her hunter. Those coal locks became a mixed reddened black, glimmering in the polished moonlight with its ailing shine. The silent pleading came to a naught and died, leaving only mute mouthing and throaty yelps.

Stars gazed down onto her softly, shimmering soothingly in all their pearly comfort. The city seemed to be empty for the night. Lazy strands of humid mist formed quietly and dragged across the solemn alley, emphasizing the solitude of the lingering body lain onto its pavement.

How wonderfully cliché, the bedraggled youth thought with irony playing over her fair features. It was anything but, and yet it had never struck her as that. Nothing hurt more than wounded pride. She craved for that one last listen of his fingers playing her heart over the fairest and most delicate strings. People kept saying he was an angel and whatnot – once, a long, long time ago, she was just as gullible, just as eager to believe – once, a long time ago, she believed and once, a long time ago she had met her wishes and fell down into the deep, velvety night, forgetting about the light and what rested on the other side of the mirror. And today, much like every time she found herself in immediate danger, she thought of him, thought back to the youthful exuberance that once coursed through her veins and then remembered the toxic pain that ensued. The way it took over her ratio like a drug, the way it nearly destroyed her body – like cancer.

She rolled onto her back and sighed, matted, dark hair creating a crooked halo atop her buzzing head. If those thoughts could just stop and smother in the disgustingly warm night around her.

The moon was almost full and her ratio reduced to a pulsating mess of memories, reflections and primal instincts. Sweat pooled in the pit of her stomach, dripping down her protruding ribcage as her wild eyes searched the gloom for a hint of another presence. She craved the music they created together in nights like these.

The heat dissolved and those haunting eyes shone brighter, taking another form. Feline eyes were a common misconception for those blessedly ignorant to the underworld – canine would have been much more appropriate. A wolfish grin spread over her features and lit up her bedraggled face. Azure mixed with golden melting into brilliant radiance as the instinct slowly took over and she was no more.

He ran through the echoing sewers, suddenly losing track of the intoxicating feminine smell which he had been following for the greater part of the night, ever since he caught the glimpse of her red locks and a black leather trench coat. Not even the rain which kept pouring out from the frowning sky could have stopped him, but he was grateful it had stopped nevertheless. A frown carved itself into his serious face and his nose twitched, agitated at the impossibility of picking up her scent again. He was sure he got her this time. His fingers itched, eager to squeeze the trigger as frustration nipped at his gut.

“Bloody bitch.” The male growled and emerged from the sewers to find nothing but a lingering scent of blood in the heavy mist dancing around the deserted alleyway. Steel-gray halos zeroed in on the blood-stains and he smirked, seeing the image of the haunting female falling to her knees, exhausted from her newly-acquired role as his prey. He wished he had seen her eyes though, but the wench’s face remained hidden in blackness, reminding him of his failure. He was supposed to at least identify the foxy stranger. He had to give it to her – she was an expert at hiding, but what he really wanted to know was her expertise at fighting one on one. He might have not seen her face, but the rest was impressive, he thought with a sly grin as a soft glimmer caught his eye.

The woman’s trench coat lay on the wet pavement, discarded in a hurry and a sudden, hissing noise reminded the arrogant male of his caution. He stared off into the deluding darkness and backed away from the coat slowly, raising his hands as a wolf emerged from the shadows, gums peeled back, showing off razor sharps incisors. The dangerous shimmer in the animal’s eyes explained its cruel intentions, its azure orbs stared him down in a demeaning manner, knowing he didn’t stand a chance.

“Back off, doggie.”

The wolf growled again, obviously displeased by his response. The animal seemed unbelievingly intelligent to him, almost as if it contained a human spirit. Another thing perturbed the egotistical bounty hunter – what the hell was a wolf doing in the middle of the busiest city in the world?

He needed that coat. There might be some DNA left to hit up the bitch in the base’s computer. If she hadn’t had a price on her head, she was about to get one. No one outruns him, no one.

He reached to his holstered gun and pulled it out slowly, aiming at the silver-furred animal. He might have even liked it if it hadn’t crossed his path… Now he pulled the safety off cautiously and readied himself for a quick run in case the creature saw through him in some miraculous way.

Moments later he was glad for his reflexes.

The animal got a good bite off his leather jacket as it lunged at him, strong jaws snapping towards his neck. Once again, keeping the wolf’s jaws away from his head, he took aim and shot his old, trusty Beretta, the sizzling bullet hitting its fleshy target and ripping through fur and flesh as the shot animal backed off with a woeful howl, staggering off into the misty darkness, filling the air with the sweet, metallic scent of freshly spilled blood.

The male fixed his leather garments and holstered his Beretta again, picking up the muddy leather off the littered road and bringing it closer to his nose. Her scent filled his nostrils again. Blood and tobacco.