Your Pain.... I Like It. [Waffles&Damen]

Lane Fox Ralyks
My record should be top secret, but here.

Lane's Writing : : :
Lane's Speech : : : E65C00
Other Speech : : : A89070

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Oh the days of winter were never one for grand happiness. The cold chilled through your bones, bringing a feeling of sadness to the world, despite the ease of poetic use of the soft white blanket that covered the ground. The cold kept people inside, something that wasn't beneficial to my preferred actions all year round. It meant less surveillance on my targets, less of a chance to follow them around. And what's the fun in that?

District 6 isn't anything special with snow either. In District 4, it's expected that the water would be frozen, which is actually quite a beautiful sight. The way the sun reflects off the ice and shines into your eyes is an eerie beauty. Unnatural and inhuman. Beauty is often the best though when it's not natural, when it causes you to shiver at the exquisiteness of the thing. The snow covered grounds of District 6 sure as hell doesn't have that amazing quality. The lab's give off now smoke like the factories of District 3, giving off no foggy beauty. The long blades of yellow grass in District 5 create a beautiful look as well. District 12's soot covers the snow, turning it practically black. Then there's District 6. Plain old fucking District 6.

The sun is high in the sky, providing slight warmth for me, wrapped in my thick waist length coat. Target picking was best to be done in the least populated parts of town, or in the poorest parts. The poor residents were easier to kill, albeit less meaty, which suited my tastes and of course Bear's.

Bear Ishmael Keeni. The name would be just another name to most people. Just a few weeks ago, it was just a name for me too. It would've stayed just a name too, if Stained Transactions hadn't accepted my application. The days count away for how long I've known Keeni, each one becoming more and more amazing. I never thought I'd be able to care for somebody, especially another man. Yet here I am, with a co-worker, accepting his requests to go out for 'dinner' together without even a second thought.

The streets were empty for the most part, a few couples scattered through the snow, holding hands and striding in a tight embrace. That seemed to be pushing it for me. I wouldn't need to cling onto a woman or man every second of the day. They aren't your life. You just life for them, not live them. But then I see him, standing in a more open part of the streets, housing different carts that usually house different merchandise. Now they are shut down, pushed right to the walls with large tarps covering them. Still, there he is, walking with his hands pushed tightly into his pockets. And so begins our 'date' of finding the perfect dinner for the night.

I never thought it would be so easy though. The man comes running up to Bear, maybe aged at around 26 years or so, just a bit older than me. At first glance, it seems that he has enough meat on his bones to provide a juicy meal, but not too much to provide a challenge for Bear and I. The words leave his mouth quickly, as if he was frantic, almost afraid of something. Oh we will wait up for anything.

"Who's our new friend Bear?" I say as a grin covers my face. This should be fun.

[WORDS] 572
[NOTES] Boom boom ? Sorry it took so long :(

With next to no effort, I throw him on my shoulder. I grab hold of his hand, holding it close. If one should ask why I'm carrying a man over my shoulder who appears dead, I could just stab him in the hand to receive a groan. That should work right? The snow covers the ground, making normal paths harder to follow. I tend to look down as I walk. I'm not one to memorize my surroundings unless I'm killing. Still, the building is visible, even if it is far ahead.

The empty warehouse is one that I managed to get access to by killing one of the owners. One of the rooms inside is locked, only accessible with my key. All it has are a chair and light. That's all I'll need. The rest will be done with simple things called fists. You know, you don't need to buy fists or steal fists. You have them. You are born with them. Well, most people anyways. I sure as hell don't have one now, and I can't remember the times when I still had my hand. Poor leftie. Always getting the shitty end of the stick. Or the bloody end of the blade if you wish.

The door is suddenly ahead and I pick up my speed, not wishing to draw too much attention. I slip the key in the lock, twisting it multiple ways just to open the damn door. This isn't the first time the lock has got stuck, refusing any attempt to open it. Fucking lock. I curse, instead kicking the door forward. It smashes open, clattering against the wall beside it, still on it's hinges. "Who needs doors anyways?" I laugh, making my way into the building,

I know the path to the room well enough that I don't have to focus intently. Instead, I plan ways to hurt this guy over my shoulder. Oh! I could cut off his...area...and feed it to him! I laugh silently, letting the possibilities pile in my mind. Finally though, we get to the room, which I open with my key, and head inside. Placing the man on the chair, I tie his hands and legs to keep him secure. "Alright, when he wakes up, we play good cop, bad cop. Your pick."