Anonymity and Innocence

[AdaraSkye]

Mircea moved slowly up the alleyway, cloaked in both shadows and leather. The stench in the narrow passage brought a frown to her face; even without cause for breath the air clung to the back of her throat and hung thick and warm around her cool skin. Icy blue eyes were fixed on the two figures at the mouth of the alley, nearly hidden within the rubbish heaps. Mircea stepped into the center of the alleyway, clearly visible in the moonlight, the click, click, clicking of those spike-heeled boots drew the attention of both the fragile young woman and rotund male figure. It was the woman’s protests that had caught her ear, soft sobbing protests to be “on her way”, “late for an appointment”. The poor dear, even as his horrible swollen fingers tore her blouse she could not gather the courage to fight back or to run.

The male’s eyes reminded Mircea of a button holding closed an over stuffed coat, too small and deep set for the space they occupied. Sunk between plump cheeks and heavy brows, dark, beady little eyes turned to stare at the approaching woman. How fitting that the man would offer only an annoyed glance. Pity… she had obviously interrupted his night’s recreation. Fat sausage like fingers wrapped so tightly around the woman’s thin arm that it looked as if he would snap it in two as he dragged her along with him, retreating further back into the shadows. The tired resigned shuffle of the young woman made her seem even younger, she could not have been much older than thirteen – a child to the icy eyes that watched.

Still the click, click, clicking of those boots echoed between the two building that formed the alley. The man turned to look again, a slow grin formed as the approaching feminine figure was appraised. Small in stature, she moved with feline grace. Dark hair and large innocent blue eyes peeked out from the recess of the hooded cloak. Perhaps his evening recreation had just gotten a spot more interesting? Mircea pushed back the hood to reveal the delicate curve of her face. A slow smile of her own formed, mimicking his as she stepped closer.

"Something you want, miss? I expect you know the little something I want from you."

The thick wheezing voice of the man matched his physique perfectly. Even his vocal chords sounded laden with fat and phlegm from too many cigars. The laughter that followed, however, was more like an adolescent boy uneven in pitch and grating to the ears. It was the sort of laughter that men spilled when they had done something naughty… and this man’s thoughts were well beyond naughty. They smelled as bad as the alley in which they stood.

Icy eyes danced over the man with delight as her grin spread even wider. With no warning she closed the distance between herself and the man. Her movements to fast to follow, like a winter’s wind that comes from nowhere and blows through clothing and skin to chill the bones. The air left his lungs in a harsh rush, stench of breath, followed by frantic gasps to draw it back in.

Then there was the warmth. Blood spilled down the filth-covered fabric of his shirt, out the corner of his mouth, sprayed across the wall of the adjacent building and onto the terrified woman cowering in the shadows. One horrified scream after another was ripped from her throat. How ironic that only wheezed gasps fell from his. Until finally his jugular was penetrated first by canines and then by her blade. The man left in a pile, his body covered with blood and chunks of thicker things. The screams finally disintegrated into pathetic sobs, and finally silence.

The momentary silence replaced with soft feminine laughter. “Yes, I believe there is a few things that you can help me with kind sir…”

She knelt and rummaged through his pockets, with any luck the man’s home would be well tended by a little round wife. She would need a place to stay, some coins would not hurt, and yes… he did have a blade. She glanced over her handy work and smiled, this looked like a standard run of the mill murder, gruesome, but certainly not a vampire’s work. No self-respecting vampire would leave this much blood behind. She had always been a snob about the blood she took, and this man smelled like a brewery inside of an outhouse.

… Mircea offered a soft smile to the woman who seemed to be trying to move the wall with her back.
“Come and look child. You will never forget the first time you see your reflection … in the eyes of a dead man.”

The woman screamed again and scampered her way out of the alley on hands and knees. For a split second she considered killing her as a matter of principle. How she hated that sort of female. Some really deserved to be victims.

“Why do they never say thank you?” She laughed and set out to explore the new town.

Perhaps she would stay in this Myrken Wood. She could almost smell the other Kindred out and about. Sooner or later it would be time for introductions, but tonight she would enjoy her anonymity … anonymity, like innocence… never lasted long.