©
Erin Wright 2013
“One more in this
city, then I move on,” he said under his breath.
He spat out the
cigarette to one side and finished off the cup of coffee he held,
putting it down beside him. Crouched by a wall near a block of flats
he looked up; looked left and right. Then he closed his eyes.
From the outside,
this black clad figure spat out a cigarette, put down a disposable
coffee cup, then collapsed into itself.
He breathed out. The
air was colder up on the roof.
Finding the hatch
down was easy, picking the lock into the uppermost flat was easy.
Punching a guy in the face so hard he immediately fell unconscious
was easy. Doing the same to the woman there? Also easy.
He stood still a
moment and sighed. There was nothing less pleasant than what he was
about to do. He produced from cable ties from his coat and bound the
man. He did the same to the woman. He laid her on the bed and began
searching the drawers. Once he found the socks, he took two pairs,
and a roll of tape from his coat.
He stuffed the first
pair in the guys mouth and taped them in place. He did the same to
the woman. Then he waited.
The waiting was
always the hardest part of the entire process. The part of the
process with every question about whether or not he was doing the
right thing. The part of the process where every temptation to just
enjoy it, just this once, seeped through and infected all of his
thoughts. The part of the process that would eventually drive him
completely insane. The part of the process that would kill him.
Sure, he wouldn't
feel the death, but it would be there. It would be the moment where
he stops being himself and the point where it wins. The point where
the beast takes over and the point where his creator gets to claim
his prize. He wouldn't let it happen. He had to wait. He had to hold
on, hoping that no one outside heard his entrance, or at least, no
one who heard cared.
He took some solace
in the fact that while this waiting had to be done, he could at least
admire the view outside the window. He could at least look out over
the proud city, before he had to leave it for fresh pastures. He
could at least admire it and enjoy it, before he had to go some place
else.
A thought crept in.
He'd picked this place on purpose. He'd picked a place where he could
find some enjoyment while he did this. He'd picked a place where he
could find a moments peace. He was making this into a task he could
look at and say wasn't all bad.
He shook it off. He
knew that thought. Enjoying this view didn't mean he enjoyed what he
was there to do. He stepped away from the window and looked over the
woman. Still breathing, still alive.
It would be so easy
to...
He didn't let the
thought finish. He instead found the kitchen and helped himself to a
glass of water, which he drank half of almost immediately. The other
half he splashed in her face to see if it would wake her up. She
shuddered as it hit her face but she didn't open her eyes. The
bruising was already quite striking on her pale skin. A few moments
later she twitched and gently began to stir. He just stood there and
watched.
The look of horror
that crept across her face as she realised each part of what was
wrong with her waking up on her bed, unable to really move her arms
or legs, unable to speak or breathe clearly through her mouth, having
a headache like she'd just been punched in the face by a tall and
lean man stood at the end of her bed looking over her.
She tried to scream
but the muffled noise that came out was no where near loud enough to
help. She tried to kick as he moved closer but he was strong and he
was fast and she couldn't project the force she wanted or needed to.
He climbed over her and held her down and for a moment they stared
into each others eyes.
She stopped trying
to scream or fight him.
“I'm sorry” he
said, with a firm but gentle voice, completely opposite to any
impression he had given her so far. “I have to do this, and I'm
sorry.” He looked back towards the other room where the man was
bound and still unconscious. “He'll be fine, physically, this time. You're my last one
here; I can leave a survivor. He might even heal from this, but I'm sorry; I'm here for you.”
“I only get to
have so many before I have to move on, so few, in reality. There
aren't enough places to support people like me any more. Too much
information shared between the police of here and there and now I
have to move around a lot.”
“It could be
worse. Tor would have ripped you into pieces without letting you die
for hours. Reph would have kept you alive long enough to paint a
portrait of you before finishing you off. Stit would have raped...”
The woman started crying quietly in front of him as he sat on top of
her.
“I'm not going to
do any of those things. I suppose my approach is more swift and I'm
sorry, because sometimes I need to talk to someone. I need to tell
someone why I do this. Tell them why it's better that I am here
rather than one of them.” He paused a moment and sighed. “I'm at
least trying to find a way to destroy the thing that made us. Trying
to find a way to stop this stream of slaughter in the name of basic
survival. I don't want to be here, doing this, but if not me, it's
one of them.”
“I'm sorry.” He
said as he put his hands around each side of her head and twisted
sharply. As she fell limp beneath him he held her head between his
arms tightly. A faint glow surrounded his arms as he did so.
The man had awoken
and found his way, crawling up to the bedroom door to see this. The
tall man holding the woman, his partner, as he glowed inexplicably.
The man froze outside the door. There was nothing he could do, though
he tried to work out what he could. As the tall man let go of the
woman and let her fall back to the bed, the man worked out what had
happened. He tried to get up, but he struggled, making it to his feet
as the tall man opened the bedroom door properly.
The man tried to
rush him, hopping and trying to project the full force of his legs
through his body as one large projectile. He caught the man, swinging
him around and into the door frame. The man was unconscious again. He
checked to make sure he hadn't killed him, and then he unbound and
ungagged the pair.
He had what he had
come for. Now he had to leave, which was as simple as going up to the
roof and closing his eyes.
