Build Ripred Then We'll Talk [Coffee]
Mar 3, 2013 0:27:37 GMT -5
Post by Kire on Mar 3, 2013 0:27:37 GMT -5
Does, Says, Thinks
Today was one of the few days you were able to relax. A rare occurrence, as you were normally always on the lookout for a particular person. Not one singular person, but a list of many that you had chosen one name from and saw it to its end. But not today. Today was your day, to do with it as you liked and not just as you were bid. There was no scanning of the area, or watchful gaze to scrutinize each face. Not today. You still did it anyway though, like the saying goes: old habits die hard. As do old men. The cold thought brought the touch of a smile to your lips. There had been more than a few elderly not-so-gentlemen that had been on your list. They weren't there anymore. They weren't anywhere anymore.
But no need to think of that now, you had finished your list, for the moment. You knew that at any time your grandmother, or your father, or your grandfather, or any member of your family really, could add a name to your list. It was the blackest of all black lists, and it was more than a little stained. There was only one copy of this list, a large piece of old parchment that lay hidden in a place only you or your family could find. The exposure of this list would be your downfall and death, as well as that of your family. That was why there was no way you would ever take anything like a book or physical copy with you. Something as foolish as that would get you caught. And getting caught was the last thing on your mind.
Your hand stroked the wooden handle it clasped, the ghost of a smile becoming the slightest bit more solid at the feel of it, and the knowledge of what was attached to the handle. It was a knife, the handle made of cedar wood and the blade of the typical steel. It was many many years old, but had kept its edge well, despite all of the use it had gotten. The blade was around four inches in length and sat quite well in the pocket of your hoodie. It was your faithful companion, if you could call anything a companion in your life. Going anywhere without it would be like leaving home without your left hand; you could manage, but it just wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be right.
Loud shrieks of laughter, the kind that could have only been made by children, assaulted your ears as you turned down one street. Annoying pests. Your thought was accented by the nearly inaudible huff you had made in your exasperation. Children were definitely not something you were fond of, though you would not harm a child. Not unless they were on the list. In an effort to try and block out their noise, while trying to be as subtle about it as possible, you shrugged up your shoulders. It helped, but only slightly so the high pitched cries still stung your ears, just not quite as loudly.
You did your best to skirt the three kids, who appeared to be no older than eight, not wanting to get anywhere near the noisy things, but you still got a glare from the woman watching them. It was no matter though, you had no business with them. And you were used to the looks, they seemed to always come your way. Maybe people just had the sense that you weren't quite the quiet and calm person you seemed to be. Well, you couldn't fault them with that, they were right. You much quieter, and much colder. Numb, even. Not a person that people wished to be around.
Thankfully, you were now at the end of that side street, even if it was more for the sake of your ears than your comfort. The side and back streets were no horrible place for you, they were your domain. Alleys were your best friend and side streets were your partners in crime. Real crime. Brutal, bloody horrible crime. The silent deaths of so many that you could no longer count, even if you had been so inclined.
So much for your day off. But it was hard to get away from your life, your truth. It was the way you were raised, if flowed through your veins with your blood. You were the way you were, and nothing could change you. You weren't even sure you wanted to be changed. Everything seemed so well off for you. Especially because even when your parents die you will still be well off. Your family was one thing that would not just fade from existence. If anything, you would make sure to take everyone with you. The grin smile on your face grew horribly dark, and you had to do your best to avoid anyone noticing. Even if they did notice, no one would be so brash as to challenge that look. Not in their right mind.
But you're not all bad. Each time you perfect a quicker, more painless way to do your job, and each time you become more efficient. Unnecessary suffering was not under your radar. Perhaps some poor descendant of yours would be trained in such things, but you were the stealthy one, the snake of the family if you so preferred. Still, you didn't bite without reason. Defending your home was the one thing that overwrote all other things.
A passing kid splashed in a puddle beside you, spraying you with water. Whatever stupor you had been under faded in that instant and you were left with water soaking into the lower half of your pants, and dribbling into your socks. Snarling in a hushed tone, making sure to keep it under your breath, you felt your movements become sharper. While most would consider this a bad thing, it was a lucky sign for the kid. If you had become more fluid in your motions it would have meant your instinct had kicked in. That was never good. Clenching your empty hand into a fist, you continued to walk, trying to falsify a direction a purpose in case of questions asked. Speaking of questions, where were you going in the first place?
Tags: Coffee | Words: 1046
Other: Wow, what a ramble. Sorry about that. And sorry about the wait.
Other: Wow, what a ramble. Sorry about that. And sorry about the wait.
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