The Bird and the Worm [kneedles]
Jun 4, 2012 17:50:51 GMT -5
Post by Jimmeh! on Jun 4, 2012 17:50:51 GMT -5
elspeth anastasia moreno
Some of the people in this end of the District were barely worth the ground they walked on. The disdainful look on my face was enough to tell you that. I was completely at odds with everyone here. Beautifully dressed, clean, made up, a colour in my hair that wasn't stained with the tone of the pavement I walked on. This was part of the quake zone, or so they said. But she'd been here before. And in some ways, the wreckage was an improvement. At least the eyesores of the flats weren't here... Reconstruction work had begun, and hopefully, this... Shanty town would be removed, and the rabble expunged. They were a blight on the District, the District closest to the Capitol in terms of splendour and grandeur.
But in a way, I like it here. People in this part are so prone to fear. Bouts of entirely rational fear. Justified, why? Because I am the one stalking them. Where my 'siblings', blood or otherwise confined their bloody minded-ness to home, I ply my deliciously captivating trade out here. In the run down part of the District. Weeding out the particularly weak. I tell mother that I'm hunting for possible extras for her to find. And truth be told, a few of them are worthy of notice. Oh, not because I think they will flourish. But because they give particularly entertaining reactions. And I need a cover for my forays out here. Where I hunt...
The thought of some of the novels Ezen read ran through my head. One in particular. Something about things called 'vampires'. Blood drinkers. That lived as part of the aristocracy. And would stalk the streets at night, for prey. To slake their eternal thirst. I smile at the thought. The similarity was uncanny. For I was here to slake a thirst for something far less tangible than blood. Terror. Sheer, unbridled terror. And it was abundant here. So many lost souls, lives wrecked by disaster. Who had never had lives at all... My eyes scan, left, right, left, right. Piercing green boring into the creatures before me. None worthy of my interest. This one too shy. She would just shut down. This one so far gone you could remove his fingernails and he'd still blink stupidly at you.
Frustration begins to boil within me. Not a single defiant person. Of all the rotten luck. I turn into a side street, vainly hoping for something down here. A dead end. I snarl audibly, a thin, hissing noise. Fists clench and unclench, one hand toys at the handle of my favourite knife. Irritated, I pivot on the ball of my foot, walking back into the main street, turning to continue my prowl. Something bumps into me, and I twist to look at the tiny girl who walked into me. Even my compact frame looks sizable compared to her. An emaciated waif. I restrain the urge to recoil in disgust, for she is the first person to display anything like the kind of mentality I want.
My best false smile materialises on my face, an expression that comes so naturally to me, as I look at her. Careful there! Don't want you hurting yourself! Should look where you're going. The light teasing note that would make me retch if it weren't all part of seeing what she would do. If she would bolt, or stay. If she had spirit, or was just like every other pathetic insect she had seen today.