Drinking down the last of what the corner store is passing off as coffee these days, tweaking from its aftertaste, but needing the lift, saying to myself “Dayum. I thought the shit Murhder made was bad. Tossing the cup in the trashcan, I head down Main and 34th thinking, the sign they had in the store window, toting they made the world’s best cup of coffee was meant as a joke. “Not fucking funny”.
Pulling my collar up to ward off the cold wind that seems ever present, wanting nothing more than to be where it's warm. It seems my whole life has been spent, walking the streets on cold nights, protecting people from things that go bump in the night.
Laughing sardonically. If people only knew that I, myself, was one of those things. Something dangerous. Something to be feared.
How many have I killed? Too many. You tend to stop counting after you stop giving a shit. Lessers. Pulling my lips back and sneering when I think of my mortal enemy. I would rip all of their throats out with my fangs if I could.
Who the fuck are they to call ME evil? Reaching under my jacket, caressing the dagger Vishous made with my specific specs. I am much better with a handgun, any will do... In my hand I make magic with it. Once in my sights, you may as well kiss your ass goodbye. It is not boastful to speak the truth. I know my own worth. I alone know what I am truly capable of. Not even the other Brothers, know.
Catching a whiff of the familiar sweet scent of baby powder on the wind, I turn down the alley at 34th and Piedmont. Tilting my head from one side to the next, releasing the pent up tension there. Needing this kill like I need my next breath. They need to pay. All of them need to pay. I fucking hate Lessers. Their whole existence needing to be eradicated.
Muffling the sound of my boots on the pavement, I spy my prey. The paled out freak of nature, leaning against the alley wall. Standing there without a care. Little does he know, the next moments, these next glorious moments will be his last.
Neither palming my dagger or reaching for my Glock, I move in on my target, and in my deep voice, “Today, is your lucky day”.
Grinning as the Lesser spins in surprise having caught him off guard. He immediately goes into fight mode and reaches for his weapon.
Reaching out I slap the gun away. “What? You want this over so soon? And to think... I came here to play”.
Circling him, never taking my eyes off his. “Where are your friends? Hmm? I thought you fuckers traveled in packs? Hmm?”
*Thinking to myself... this never gets old. The rush I always get, better then any sex. Well, not quite. Reaching out my hand and giving the ‘come get me’ signal, I brace for his attack and lift my leg straight out, catching him square in the chest with my boot,
watching him fall back and laughing at the thud when his head bounces off the concrete. “Ohhh, I bet that had to hurt, huh?”
His painful moan being the answer I was looking for. Kneeling down over him, he tries to fight back. Pulling my fist back, I bring it down, over and over until he stop fighting me and lays there in a pool of his black blood. Finally, drawing my dagger, I see the fear in as I bring my dagger down to the center of his chest where his heart used to be. The familiar sizzle and pop signaling a job well done.
Feeling a small sense of satisfaction as he turns to dust, I wipe my dagger on my leathers and holster it. Standing once again, I place my hands in my coat pocket and walk from the alley thinking, another day in fucking paradise.
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