Rampage in Kenton City (Hellscream&BeyondPoetry)

[Atherium]

It was just another apparently normal evening in Kenton City. The streets, heatened over the day by the burning sun rays, were now being chilled by a rain, a rain that has been going for nearly an hour now. Rains were no rare occurence in this metropolis, and whoever went out on the street was always careful to carry an umbrella with them. The citizens of Kenton were, in fact, so used to the rain, that they were no longer shying away from going on casual strolls during it. The joke of the average Kenton citizen was always along the lines of "A day with no rain in Kenton? Is that a sci-fi book?" Many tourists referred to Kenton as the Rain City, and for good. Through the sound of rain, the noise of the usual metropolitan night life was proeminent. The sound of car horns, the people walking the streets, heading into different ways... and the sound of a lonely police car siren howling, most likely rushing to an emergency case.


On a street, around the center of the city, two policemen on foot were desperately running, guns in hands, chasing down a hooded figure through the crowd. People were being either shoved aside by the apparent criminal that was running from the police, or were simply moving on the sides, making space for the three running people to pass through, out of fear or confusion. A few warning shots were set loose into the air by one of the policemen, causing a fair number of people to run off, now totally panicked by the situation. The howling siren of the police car was soon to join the chase as the hooded figure slalomed through the crowd and suddenly vanished into a dark alley, soon followed by the two policemen and a third that stepped out of the car and joined the chase on foot. However, a few minutes later, the law's hands stopped on another street, exhausted and panting. One of them quickly used his attached radio communicator to report. "Dispatch, this is 191, suspect has evaded sight, i repeat, do not have sight on suspect. He was last seen on Carlin corner with Hemsworth, over" Copy that, 191, report any new findings, over. was the quick response of the dispatch.


The hooded figure was now walking down another street, holding his head down as he peeked from under the hood of his hoodie. He needed a new face. Again. With his hands in his pockets, he continued strolling down the street, the rain having soaked his clothes already. The crowd was slowly thinning out as he headed further on the street and, at a point, few people were even passing by. A perfect moment to snatch one of them and proceed to the impersonation. His gaze fell upon a man clothed casually. The guy looked well in his 20 and his facial features weren't too proeminent nor outstanding. The perfect disguise. The hooded figure changed his direction, proceeding to follow his target until they would come upon an empty spot. A dark alley was not too far from the two and, as soon as they passed by, the young man felt a knife poking at his ribs, making his back straighten up as a voice whispered behind him. "Move where i lead you, or you're dead."


The two dissapeared immediately into the dark alley. Wary eyes watched for any person that might be in proximity and, as none was seen, the hooded figure proceeded to action. The victim gasped as two hands gripped at his neck and constricted with an almost unearthly force. He struggled against the man that was strangling him and let out a few harsh choking sounds before his body fell limp into the arms of his killer. The hooded figure kept his grip for another minute, to make sure he killed his target for good before laying him down. A smirk played upon the dark figure as he placed his hands on the corpse and closed his eyes. A blast of images and voices struck his head as his memories were being replaced with the victim's, memories, names, faces, information. His head hurt as the whole load hurled within, all while his face and entire body assumed the look of the dead man he was touching, all while the dead man was turning into nothing more than a blank figure, with no eyes, features or even prints.


As he snapped out of the trance of morphing, the hooded figure opened his eyes as he heard a sound in his near proximity. A horrified gasp. As he moved to cast his gaze towards the figure, he only saw a shadow of what looked like a female. She stood there, shocked by what she has just witnessed. Fuck. He thought as he stood, slowly, deciding the best way to deal with this was to eliminate his witness. Hopefully, she was the only one there at the moment.

 

[Poe]

It was just supposed to be a quiet walk home from work, but Maya should have known better. In Kenton City, nothing was ever quiet or simple. Even the rain seemed to constantly patter against the busy streets, the cars zooming by and sirens crying out — it wasn’t much but she couldn’t bring herself to call anywhere else home. She’d been born here, raised her, and that night she was almost certain that she would die here.


It was later than she was used to, coming off the dinner shift a few hours behind schedule because she had been late again. Waitressing wasn’t the most glamorous job, especially not at some dive bar in the bad part of town, but Maya had never really been one to put any stock in labeling. Sure, humanity was a little skewed in parts of Kenton City, but circumstances hadn’t really given anyone a step up around here. Even Maya herself lived in a shitty on bedroom apartment over a little Chinese place on the edge of town. It was just how things worked here — no one was going to hand you anything or preach about beautification. Everything here had its place and if you screwed with that, the city tended to rise up a bit. It was just a petri dish of crime, fear and uncertainty. Maya, as it seemed, had one of the few pure hearts in the city, despite the hand dealt to her by fate. And it showed, perhaps more often than she would’ve liked.


She had heard the police before she had seen the chase. Two officers, soon joined by a third, raced on foot after a hooded figure but the moment Maya’s curiosity caught up with them, the hooded figure was gone. She shook her head and kept walking, the rain falling down heavily though she hadn't thought to bring an umbrella as she quite liked the rain. After a terrible day, there was nothing like welcoming a cool rain to wash away everything. It was only when she looked back up that she noticed something peculiar — it was that man again, but this time he was standing behind a younger man, a little older than Maya, and the two disappeared into the dark alley. Maya never put much doubt in her own intelligence, but common sense on the other hand was a bit of a struggle for her at times. Her curiosity often got the better of her and so with a few quick and quiet steps, she walked over to the alley way only to see his hands around the man’s neck, choking the life out of him.


Maya wanted to scream, to run after him and rip him off the man, but she could not move. She was frozen and the moment she felt as though she could possibly make a move, the hooded figure did something incredible. With a touch of his hands, Maya watched as his body contorted into that of the man she had just touched, his face once covered was now reflecting the same expression as the dead man — though when she looked back down at the body, there was nothing. No face, no identifying features, only a heap of flesh — and it made her sick. Maya’s hand came up to her mouth to try and quiet the involuntary gasp that escaped her throat. How had this man…? She had heard a long time back at the bar about people with extraordinary abilities but it was all just bar talk — or so she thought. As the man stood slowly, his eyes on her, Maya knew she had to react quickly.


“Y-You—“ she stammered. Good one, Maya, she thought to herself. “How did you do that? You’re…you’re him? Or is he you?”


“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she finally choked out, stepping towards him with a bit more gusto. “I don’t really have anyone to tell, really, but —“ she cleared her throat. “The police were only about three blocks behind me. You should go before they find you, before they find,” she motioned to the corpse that still made her stomach churn, “this.”

 

[Atherium]

The girl seemed absolutely terrified by what she had just witnessed. But that didn't mean that she won't run to the first normal human she stumbles into and tell him of it. He had to get rid of her in order to keep his own safety. He could easily elude a few cops that went running after him, but having a whole angry mob on his tail and a whole city aware of a man who stole identities and memories wasn't exactly something he wanted. Narrowing his eyes, he fixed her gaze with his before his hands caught a good grip upon her wrists. Making sure nobody else was around, he yanked the girl towards himself before, with half a spin, pinned her against the wall of one of the buldings that formed the narrow and dark alley. His ragged breath washed over her face as he almost closed the distance between their faces in a threatening manner, whispering in a slight grunt.


"Curiosity killed the cat, they say. Are you a cat? You know, i never took the body of a woman. But i think i could do some nice thing with yours. But you're lucky i feel merciful. You never saw a thing tonight. You go home, go to sleep, and never ever think about me again. The police can't find me, but i can find you. If you utter one single fucking word of all this, you never know when you'll be sharing his fate. Now get lost." He hissed before removing his grip on her and exitting the alley, dissapearing behind the corner as he walked out into the street, again, careful as not to be seen by anyone. In his mind, he even wondered why he hasn't killed the girl, as he always did with those who were unfortunate to find out of his "gift". In all honesty, he wondered how did the others included in the Blackout project deal with the way they have been twisted in. He remembered, that, as a child closed between the walls of that strange institution, he used to see other children in his same situation. Taken to testings, and either improved, or made to dissapear. Forever.


Caught in the trap of his thoughts, he never noticed how fast he reached his destination. Daunton, one of the poorest and most infamous neighbourhoods in the whole of Kenton. Why did he live here? Well, the payment for the small elimination jobs he did for a living were not exactly good to help him afford living someplace else. And even if they did, he wouldn't. He needed to have the least eyes on him anytime he walked anywhere. After all, he didn't know when or where would he meet an acquaintance of the man that he had the face of, and it wouldn't go really well. For quite a few times, he has been thinking of simply impersonating a man and then living on to the end as that man, but on a second thought, it didn't seem like the best of options. Neither could he ditch all the disguises and go out defaced as he was. Sticking a hand into the pocket of his soaked jeans, he pulled out the wallet of the person he had just stolen his looks from. He never forgot to take their wallets and anything else that could help police identify them.


Opening the wallet, he found within a few hundred bucks and the photo of a woman. Perhaps, the guy's girlfriend, or wife, for that matter. Warren was his name, apparently. With a smirk, he shoved the wallet back into the pocket before entering the dirty ghetto block he lived in, passing by a few teenagers that carelessly smoked what looked like weed. Police didn't really give a bloody damn about that neighbourhood and even if they did, they wouldn't be able to do much about it. Coming upon his apartment's door, the man noticed a paper envelope lodged under his door. Unlocking the wooden door, he opened it and picked up the envelope before entering his more than modest, if not disgustingly dirty apartment. Clothing thrown around, a kitchen sink filled with dishes forgotten there for what could probably be days. Like i give a fuck. he thought as he moved to the nearest chair and sitting, he proceeded to open the envelope. Inside he found a letter, and a picture of a man, a man well in his 50, with grey hair and blue eyes. The letter was from his contractor, a shady man going by the letter K. Nobody knew his real name.


Here is the man you need to kill. Below you will find details about his activity, daily routine and his address. Call me to set up the payment method when you did the job. K.

 

[Poe]

He should have killed her. Maya’s brain reeled after the man had released her and disappeared back into the darkness of the rainy night. He had grabbed her roughly, pinned her against the wall and told her that if she ever spoke of this again he would find her — but she meant what she had said. She didn’t have anyone to tell and she did not particularly have a death wish, though her actions seemed to speak otherwise. Maya caught her breath once he was gone, her hand on her chest as she labored out a few gasping breaths. Her heart was beating a symphony in her chest and she knew that she couldn’t stay here. No, it would look suspicious to find an overwhelmed girl next to a faceless body. So she turned on her heel and made her way briskly out of the alley and faded back into the group of people who were bustling towards their homes, their families, their lives, but Maya couldn't forget the man she’d seen. What kind of life was that? Moving from person to person, stealing their identity? Didn’t he get tired of running?


She lived on the edge of Daunton and Clinton, the two worst neighborhoods in Kenton above a fronted Chinese food place. Out back there were plenty of deals being made, drugs being trafficked, but the old lady, Lin, who owned the shop was a sweet woman who had rented Maya her apartment when she’d run from foster care at fifteen. Nearly a decade later, Maya was still here and Lin even sent her up dinner some nights when she’d get in early enough for the kitchen to be open. She walked up the steps, using her key and jiggling the lock free before shoulder checking the door in. Her apartment wasn’t much, it never had been, but it was home. There were a pair of beat up couches and old antenna television on a weathered table, the wood looking almost fragile to the touch, so Maya never touched it. In the same room, there was a modest kitchen, the counters littered with bills and mail, her sink still held the plates from breakfast this morning and her stained fridge sat against the far corner. There was a card table in the middle of the room with two chairs and there were only two doors leading out of the room, one to her bedroom and the other to a small bathroom.


Tossing her keys in the bowl on the counter, Maya walked past everything and made her way into the bedroom. There wasn’t much, a long closet against one wall with only a curtain to conceal her clothing. A mattress was on the floor with a sheet and dissolved blanket. There was an upside-down box next to the bed with a desk lamp and an alarm clock, an old record player in the corner on the floor with a collection of records scattered around. Stripping off her clothes and leaving herself clad in only her underwear, skin still chilled from the nights events, she padded over to the player and threw on an old jazz record. A lot of them were records she’d managed to procure from shops going out of business, but on nights like tonight when she couldn’t seem to calm her heartbeat, jazz seemed to help. She crawled into bed, pulling the blanket up around her as she listened to the rain grow more furious against the window. The sound of men yelling in the back alley was almost loud enough to drown out the music, but strangely enough they seemed to work together.


The man she had met tonight, the man without a face. He had told her never to think of him again, but she could not help it. What kind of existence was that? Who had done that to him? She felt a heaviness in her heart and while she should have felt disgust for having conspired with a murderer, Maya couldn't bring herself to write him off just yet. No, she couldn’t go after him — she knew that — but she couldn't shake him from her thoughts and she wouldn’t. There were a lot of shitty parts of humanity, but someone should never be stripped of their identity like he had and it made her heart ache.


Her cellphone rang from her jeans next to the bed and she fished it out, pulling it to her ear. “Yeah?”


“Listen, Maya,” a familiar voice spoke, a deep timbre that belonged to Rico, the man who did business out of Lin’s restaurant. “Lin was telling me you were strapped for cash — I’ve got a job for you if you want it. Pretty girl like you gets dressed up, strictly goes out to dinner and makes a business deal of mine happen, what do you say?”


“Rico, I’m tired,” Maya pinched the bridge of her nose.


“Come on, Maya, it’ll only be for a few hours. In a part of town like this, a girl like you needs protection — don’t you? You do this for me and consider my services extended, no charge.”


Maya sighed, glancing at the clock before folding. “Fine, Rico,” she grunted as she picked herself up from bed. His laugh was strong through the line, “Black dress, red heels, he’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours, kid.”


Maya hung up the phone and looked at herself in the mirror for a moment. She was a beautiful young woman by anyone’s standards. Her hair a pitch black, curled and long over her shoulders but her eyes were an icy blue — almost piercing — and with her slim but curved build made her more than a target for Rico and his guys. When she was fifteen, she’d gotten in with the wrong crowd and being a pretty girl, it was easy to persuade men into business deals, but she never got her hands dirty with what the deal was being made over. Rico was harmless to her, really, as he’d taken an instant liking to her but the edge of Daunton and Clinton was not the place for a girl like Maya. Most days, it was Rico’s boys who made sure that she was safe at night.


It was a vicious cycle and as she pulled on a skin tight black dress and red pumps, Maya let out an exhausted sigh and picked up her lipstick. It had to get better some day — it had to.

 

[Atherium]

He read with due attention the sheet attached to his assignment letter, with detailed schedule, habits and everything else this man used to run around. He wasn't surprised with the amount of detail. The only thing i don't see here is the amount of shit he dumped this morning into the privy, he thought in a sort of sarcasm that was really common with him. He was, in fact, so intensely sarcastic, that he sometimes did not even know whether he spoke seriously, or not. Indeed, Mr. K. had good men that busied themselves with acquiring such precious information. But he was willing to bet those bastards were being paid much more than he, the man who had to do the ultimate job of sending poor fuckers out of the world, was. "Hm, how convenient. It seems he's got a business meeting tonight." he spoke out to the empty room as on his face was quickly painted a bitter smirk. It seemed like the best time for the job. Standing, he placed the photo of the man on a table before running into the bedroom to find a change of clothes.


As he passed by a mirror left apparently carelessly into the small space that served as a hall to the little apartment of the ghetto block, he stopped before it to take a better look at his new face. And it slightly made him flinch as he discovered he now sported a dirty set of black dreadlocks. "Man, this looks like shit..." he mused in disgust before he rushed his hand at the back of his waist, and pulled out a small but sharp switch blade. With due care, he began cutting the locks one by one, throwing them upon the floor on which were scattered different things like dirty clothes, emtpy beer cans and everything else possible, until there was nothing left but a spiky, dirty mess out of the strange hairstyle. At least in his eyes it looked better now. A couple more minutes of staring at the reflection made him nod in agreement. Now he looked acceptable. Picking up the photo from where he left it, he slid it in the back pocket of his jeans before walking out the door.


It must have been pretty late at night, but the rain was still perseverent. The meeting was supposed to take place in a lux restaurant somewhere in the centre of Kenton. That was the place where all the important men met, and also, the place that he absolutely despised. He looked with hateful disgust upon them all and believed it was all his right to blame them for what he has been through. Rich men make the world spin and what he suffered was all the morbid ambition of rich men. Fucking scum. A good ten minutes later found him heading hastily through the steady rain, approaching the restaurant where the meeting was going to take place. He noticed the two specially placed guards at the entrance, tall, buff men clad in black suits. I wish i could actually take down any of them, he huffed within himself as he excluded the solution of disguising himself as one of them.


He silently awaited in shadows, across the street, trying to act just like a normal person that is waiting for the bus in the bus station that was placed conveniently across the restaurant. The wait proved to be quite long and slightly irritating as he could now feel water even in his underwear from the constant rain. He hoped for the sake of everything he hasn't been mistakenly misled, however, just as he was about to lost all hope, he spotted a black mini-limousine pulling up in a reserved parking slot in front of the restaurant. A man stepped down from it and hurried to the door in the backthat opened to the sidewalk, and, opening it, he let space for the person who was about to step out. The stranger narrowed his eyes, trying to his best to focus upon who was coming out. And hell, he could even feel the wet concrete under his jaw as it dropped when he saw who actually stepped out of the car. Elegantly dressed and with a completely different show about her was the girl that just hours before he threatened to kill was she to utter any words about what she had witnessed.


After her, his target also exitted the car and, offering her his arm, and letting her hook her own, slender arm around it, he walked her within the restaurant, both being greeted at the entrance by a polite waiter who was to lead them to the reserved table. Now this was a turn of events he hasn't foreseen and it required much more thought. He couldn't walk in the restaurant as he was. She would recognize him right away. He needed a new disguise.

 

[Poe]

Some girls dreamed about a life where powerful men would parade them around like trophies on their arm, but it just made Maya feel emptier. Regardless, she still wore a polite smile that barely touched her eyes but was warm enough to everyone who did not care to look any closer. The man she was with was older but not too old, just enough that the sides of his hair were a bit salt and pepper in color, in his mid-to-late thirties. Trevor Daniels, one of the more affluent businessmen in the area — from her conversations with him in the car, he specialized in all things transportation. He’d been kind enough, polite enough, as he helped her out of the mini-limousine and walked her on his arm towards the restaurant. Pulling out her chair for her, he had them sat in a private back table, a single rose and a flickering candle in the center of the black table cloth. He took his seat and smiled at her, waving two fingers for the waiter to arrive with a bottle of their best chardonnay.


“I was glad you could join me, Maya,” Trevor smiled warmly, though there was something hungry in his eyes that she had seen so many times before. “Rico says you’re quite the companion for the evening.”


“I would hate to underwhelm, so do not set your expectations too high,” Maya smiled kindly, a thank you on her lips has the waiter handed her a glass of wine and a menu. Everything here was so entirely out of her prince range and she almost felt bad for ordering anything, despite the fact these were less than good men who weren’t using their money for anything better. “You exceeded all my expectations when you walked out looking like that,” Trevor complimented, taking the menu from her and handed them back to the waiter. “We’ll have two of whatever the chef thinks is best.”


“Of course, sir,” the waiter responded, scurrying off in response to Trevor’s presence.


Maya wrapped her fingers around the stem of the wine glass, bringing it to her lips and taking a long sip to ease the tension in her muscles. “So,” Maya breathed out. “Is this what a man like you does for fun?”


“I’ll admit, I do frequent this restaurant,” Trevor laughed, taking a sip himself but never breaking eye contact. “But I’m afraid I am not often in the company of beautiful women. My job is rather taxing and does not allot me much free time, as it were.”


“Well then, I’m flattered you could take some time off to enjoy this evening with me,” Maya flirted back a bit, her thumb coming up to fluidly wipe some of the lipstick residue from her glass. Her eyes were on him but her ears were everywhere and the number of old men eyeing her made her slightly uncomfortable. It always did. “Believe me,” Trevor took her hand in his and ran his thumb across her knuckles. “The pleasure is all mine. If I had a woman like you at home I might be inclined to take more time off.”


“You’re too much, Trevor,” Maya said with a soft laugh, though she meant the words deep down. She hated that Rico sent her on these meetings — when she was younger, he used to make sure that there were protocol in place that stopped the men from even touching her, but since she was of age and a consenting woman, it was expected that she stomached the touches. The brief touches on her knuckles, the sweeping fingers against the small of her back, the kisses on her cheek, her forehead, her hands and temples. It never stopped now and while she was free to fight it, if the deal went through — she was the one who suffered. “All I’m saying is that a guy like Rico must be someone worth dealing with if he keeps company with others such as yourself,” Trevor added, nodding at her. “I guess that’s the big question of the evening: can I trust him?”


“He’s a good guy, respectable, if not a little rough around the edges,” Maya sipped at her wine. “But if I wanted to do business with anyone, he’s the guy I would go to. Doesn’t beat around the bush, focuses on the job and nothing else. Very goal oriented.”


“Sounds ideal,” Trevor raised an eyebrow at her.


“Well, unfortunately in this line of work there isn’t much that is particularly ideal,” she explained. “But if you’re looking for someone who is going to get you the best quality, he’s the man you want to do business with. He’s got quite a bit of man power, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”


“You’re rather honest. Almost candidly so,” Trevor smiled, leaning forward onto the the table, his eyes boring into hers and she did not waiver. It was funny though, how easily men were manipulated by a pair of blue eyes and red lips. “I respect that,” he smiled. “Let’s have ourselves some dinner and I’ll make the call to Rico this evening. I’d like to give you all of my attention while I have you in my company.”


“Of course,” Maya fake smiled, hurting the muscles in her cheek. “I’m sure he will be happy to hear what you’ve decided.”


Trevor’s hand came up under the table, trailing up her thigh and she tried to cross her legs, but he pulled them back apart with a smirk of his own. This happened sometimes, where the guy got a bit too handsy, and while she could pull the plug at any time she knew how big of a deal for Rico this was. His business could go national or even international instead of just the clients he had in Kenton. He had a booming business for sure, but this was going to set him apart from all the other petty dealers. Maya cleared her throat uncomfortably and pulled her glass to her lips, taking a few sips and nearly emptying her glass as his hands remained on her.


It wasn’t until she saw a strange man walking towards them, did she look up. There was something about him that was familiar but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. At the sight of him, Trevor remove his hand and glanced up at the man. “Excuse me, if you don’t mind — this is a private table,” he said cooly.


And somehow, she knew that was a mistake.

 

[Atherium]

He had been pacing back and forth on the sidewalk across the street for quite a few good minutes since Trevor and Maya entered the restaurant. He couldn't get in sight any person that would look decent enough to be given pass to enter the luxurious restaurant. The damn place was too exclusivist and hell forbid you were just a casually dressed teen, they'd have you packed and kicked away from the door with utmost haste, unless you slid a good bribe in the bulky brutes' pockets. Bribe which he didn't have, at the moment. A bus came slowly to a halt and as it did, the man's hopes were raised beyond the limit as he watched for whoever stepped out of it. And just about the moment when he was about to give it up, again, a man in suit stepped down, and opened his umbrella to greet the rain. He carried a briefcase, and by the appearance, the man assumed he was just a boring bureau worker that was coming back home. Perfect disguise.


In silence, he followed the man through the shadow for a couple of blocks, watching his surroundings with care, as he always did. The man seemed to be more than unsuspecting, and, as they passed through a dark corner, he considered this the perfect moment for an attack. Leaping on the man's back, he had no hardship catching him in a strong chokehold and keeping him there, tightening the grip to the best and eventually, stealing all the air from his victim. The stranger convulsed as a reaction of his brain being cut off air supply, and eventually succumbed, colapsing into his arms, his briefcase and the umbrella being set free from his grasp. Placing a hand on his face and one on his abdomen, after making sure his victim has died, he again closed his eyes and let his mind be invaded by the new memories, voices and overall information, all while his skin, facial features and body were being twisted into his victim's, and his victim was turned into a humanoid blank mannequin of flesh. With a sickening sound, he popped his cervical vertebrae with two movements of his head to the left and right.


He then proceeded to stripping his victim of all documents and anything he held on his person, and ultimately, of his clothes. After all, that was what he needed in the first place, a clean, presentable suit. Of course, it was slightly wet from the rain that was now finally coming to an end, but who cared? Dumping his own clothes into the nearest trash container, he proceeded to also dumping the flesh mannequin in the same container and closing the lid. He had what he needed. Now it was time to get into action. At first, he thought of hanging around, and eventually doing the job when Trevor, his target, was going to the bathroom to take a piss. However, he had no actual security that the man would indeed go to bathroom during that meeting and to wait for it, well, it was already way too long. As he paced back towards the restaurant, he checked the small gun he had hidden in his coat. Small, but enough to blow Trevor's brains in an instant.


The two guards at the entrance eyed him at the same time as he passed through the door, and the waiter smiled with a false curteosness, welcoming him with that thick english accent. He did not respond, nor did he even cast a gaze to the man as he passed by. He had the gun hidden and ready, and, as he approached the table, the waiter rushed behind him. "Sir, is everything alright?" The employee asked as he stopped just in the moment when Trevor warned this total stranger that that was a "private table". The man smirked as he noticed the man's hand extended under the table towards the girl's legs. So private that you're fingerblasting her under it, huh? He thought in an acid tone before, with no further explanation, he pulled the small pistol. A loud gasp was heard from the whole bunch of people within the restaurant, clients and waiters alike, as the small fire weapon was revealed and aimed directly at Trevor. The second extended long enough for everyone to dwell in the horror of the realisation of what was about to happen.


As the bullet was released with a deafening sound, Trevor's forehead was immediately gifted with a clean, small hole, caused by the shot at almost point blank range. His eyes widened and almost popped out of their sockets before blood all but gushed out from the wound. At this point, clients were either standing in a rush and leaving, or fainting on the spot, or screaming hysterically at the top of their lungs. Trevor's dead body rocked back and forth for a second before falling all the way on the back, with a loud thud as his head hit the floor. In the whole agitation and panick, nobody even noticed where the stranger with the gun vanished. He simply ran off, getting out of sight as quick as possible. The collective panick now slowly turned to stupor and for good minutes, everyone stood by, gawking and crying about what they had just witnessed. A clean cut murder. It also wasn't long before the first police cars appeared and the first men of the law entered the scene. An ambulance was also quick to arrive, but the diagnose was already clear. Trevor was deceased.


Another policeman entered the place just minutes after his colleagues, and, after a small talk with two or three of them, he headed straight towards Maya, who was still sitting on her chair, shocked, probably, by what her eyes have seen. The man looked down upon her with his black eyes, before speaking out towards her. Yet something else told her she better listened to him. "Miss, i will need you to come with me to the station. From what i got, you are the principal witness. Let's go." He spoke shortly before gently grabbing at her arm, and leading her out of the restaurant, into one of the police cars which he then swiftly drove away.

 

[Poe]

It had all happened in a split second. One blink and then he was dead, a bullet in the center of his forehead as Trevor teetered back and forth, hitting the ground with a thump. Maya could not even scream, her eyes were just wide and mouth slightly agape, but her hands managed to pull her skirt down a bit in a fleeting sense of relief. Maya hated being touched like she was some piece of meat. The man who had shot him ran quickly, out of sight entirely before the cops arrived and no one could stop him. But Maya knew who it was, it was the faceless man. How she sensed it, she wasn’t sure, but she could just tell from the way his presence felt. There was so much rage, so much hatred, and she had been entirely consumed with eyeing him before he killed Trevor.


But then the police needed her and she wanted to curl up and die. Rico would kill her if he ever got his hands on her after this. It wasn’t her fault but Rico had a bit of a temper and tended to take it out on whoever was closest. The cop led her gently out of the restaurant and into one of the cars before taking off, but his words fell on deaf ears. The entire ride was filled with Maya trying to make sense of her own mind and her eyes instinctively searching for the man who she’d met — the same man who, despite murdering two people, let her live. Not just once, but both times.


“I’m going to ask you again, Miss,” the officer asked under the florescent of the interrogation room. “What did this man look like to you?”


Maya blinked a few times, her words coming out slowly as her body finally registered all that had happened. “He was tall, probably about six feet, and he wore a suit. A slight bit of stubble, but not a full beard.”


“Had you ever seen the man before, Miss?” he asked, pushing the coffee cup closer to her to urge her to warm herself. One of the other younger cops had been kind enough to wrap her in his jacket and though they had all been incredibly kind, she knew she couldn't let them know about the faceless man. “No, never,” Maya shook her head. “I’ve been to that restaurant a handful of times and never once have I seen him before. It’s pretty exclusive.”


“And what were your intentions with the deceased? Had you and Trevor Daniels known each other long?” he asked, a bit of an edge to his voice as though he were inquiring for personal reasons as well as professional. “No, Officer,” Maya shook her head, finally taking the coffee in her hands if only to warm them. “We were set up by a mutual friend and I had only met him that night. I don’t know why anyone would want to kill him.”


“Are you aware of Mr. Daniels’ job?”


“He said something about transportation, but we hadn’t really gotten in depth yet,” she laughed, playing the cops like a vixen. “You know how first dates are. A lot of uncomfortable moments and, if you’re lucky, a bottle of wine.”


He let out a laugh, closing the file on the desk and looking up to her. “You’re very right, Miss. That should be all for tonight. I’ll have one of the boys bring you back home.”


“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she smiled, the uneasiness never quite leaving her stomach. About an hour later, she had the officer drop her off about a half mile outside of Daunton and Clinton, by the nicer apartments that lined the streets. He bid her farewell with a wave and waited for him to be out of sight before she let the smile drop and headed for her apartment. The rain had let up a bit, but it was still misting and the air was chilled. She thought of him the entire way, the faceless man, the one who had killed two men…well, three if they were counting the new disguise. How many more lives had he taken? Why was he killing all of these people? She crossed her arms in front of her, trying to calm the chill in her skin, and she was almost through Daunton unscathed when she felt a hand wrap around her waist and another around her mouth before dragging her off into one of the back alleys. She was thrown up against the brick wall, a strong hand on her throat as the other hand gripped her hands above her head in one vice grip. When she found the strength to open her eyes, she recognized Rico’s men. She didn't know their names, she wasn’t supposed to, but they were here for one reason and one reason only.


“Rico’s not happy, Maya,” one of them growled, his accent thick. “You lost him business tonight.”


“I didn’t lose him anything,” she choked out, her legs kicking out a bit below her, making the man holding her press his body up against hers. “I didn’t kill him.”


“Tell us who the fucker was, you’re the only one who saw him,” he pressed harder, a sputtering gasp falling from her lips as she lost her ability to breathe. “Who was he? What did he look like?”


“I don’t know!” she yelped out with what little breath she had left. With a swift movement, he threw Maya painfully to the ground and she landed in a puddle, the rain picking up as their argument escalated. “Well maybe we can help you remember,” the man growled and Maya knew immediately that they were working a bit independent of Rico’s rules. Before she could give it any more thought, a foot connected with her stomach. She gasped, the wind being knocked out of her, and tried to push herself up but they kept knocking her down. “Who was he?”


“I told you I don’t know!” she cried out the lie, her voice convincing but she knew deep down who it was. Even as the men kept on with their beating, she would not break and tell them. The faceless man had let her live, she had to repay him, somehow. Even if that meant getting the life near beat out of her by thugs in a back alley in Daunton.

 

[Atherium]

Finally, he managed to retreat to safety, after stealing yet another identity. This time, a bulky brute of a man, just like the two bouncers of the luxury restaurant. Much to his luck, the man was piss drunk, therefore, an easy prey. It took quite the struggle yet to chokehold him, but given the circumstances in which he barely could even move, the hard work payed in the end. And now, he was returning to his miserable, shithole of a home. But as he strolled through the streets of the same, old Daunton, one image lingered in his head. The girl. Seriously, who the hell was she? Why was it made so that he met her twice in the same night, just a few hours apart? She surely recognized him, even in disguise. Something in her gaze clearly told him she recognized him, and he now honestly wondered, how did she? But he was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard voices. Several man voices, accompanied by the gasps and cries of a woman.





It was all happening, it seemed, just around the corner. So close to his home. It wasn't as if rape was something uncommon between the miserable walls of Daunton. And nobody did shit about it. He probably wouldn't have, either, but something dreadful told him the girl was no ordinary girl. "“Who was he?” Asked the masculine voices as the other voice cried, denying having any knowledge of who the person in subject was. The stranger allowed himself to slip against the wall, and take a peak. A poor street light revealed that his suspicion was more than confirmed. The girl being abused was, again, her, the girl he had stumbled already twice into today. But who were those men? And what did they want from her? However, he was fairly certain it was him that they wanted, and he also noticed that she refused to speak out, enduring the beating with stoicism. It remembered him of a fatidic night of June when... Oh, fuck's sake, no time for memories now. You gonna save the poor girl, or what? His inner voice asked him, and thus, convinced him that he was more than owing her a save. She endured what she did because of him.


"I was." He spoke as he stepped out of his spot, attracting the immediate gazes of the four men. Three were beating her down, while one was fiddling with the zipper of his jeans, prepared to take the humiliation of the poor Maya to the next step. However, now they all stood, watching the man as he took a step closer to them. "I killed that motherfucker. Now what? You're going to beat me down like you did to her? Come on, you pussies, jump me. I still need to kill a few to quench my bloodthirst." He taunted. However, the four men were not as tough now as they seemed. Switchblades were immediately summoned to their hands as they began moving around him like hungry prey beasts, circling him and trying their best to catch him offguard. The first attack came from behind and he expected it. Turning halfway around, he grabbed the thug, shoving him into the one in front of him and causing both to fall one over the other. However, as he did so, the one guy to his left side took advantage, and so, stung him in the side with the blade, penetrating his flesh through between the ribs. He felt a sharp ache in the spot and didn't notice how quick the blood began gushing, soaking the buttoned shirt he now wore. But for the massive brute he was, this was not exactly the biggest deal. His hand swished through the air and hit the attacker square in the face, sending him flying on his back.


Another round of punches went through the air, as the three remaining men, as the fourth was knocked out cold, tried to defend themselves from the brute that ran rampant against them. One of them made the imprudence of trying to attack him from the front, and his head cracked as soon as the bulky man applied a heavy headbutt to his forehead. He fell down helpless. The other two, seeing how this man was clearly stronger than them, tried running. However, just one of them managed to stumble his way away from the scene, the other one being caught in a vicious grip and slammed to the ground. The massive meat mountain of a man then straddled the thug, letting his whole weight upon him before ferociously landing punches into his face, causing his jaw to crack and his teeth to slip all the way into his stomach. The thug lost his conscience as he was getting his head almost smashed, and only fatigue caused the stranger to stop. The wound in his side was getting more and more painful.


Standing slightly wobbly, he headed down towards the girl that was lying in pain upon the cold and wet concrete of the street. He couldn't argue with himself as to why exactly he did this for her, but he couldn't stop himself do it further. Catching her in his arms, he slipped an arm at the back of her knees and and arm under her back and picking her up carefully, he took her away. Minutes later he stopped near the block he lived in, and, placing her down on an old bench, he decided to sit down with her, feeling gradually exhausted by the pain he was experiencing.


"Okay..." He muttered. "I think we're safe, for now. Are you alright?"

 

[Poe]

There were a lot of ways that the scene in the alley could have played out — but Maya never expected the very man she was protecting to show up to defend her. She would have voiced this disbelief if she wasn’t sprawled out on the wet concrete, her body aching and a shooting pain in one of her ribs. Per usual, they’d left her face, but the rest of her wasn’t so lucky. There was blood from where her shoulder skid against the concrete, ripping apart bits of skin, and the color diluted by the heavy rain. Her hair was wet and stuck to her face, her eyes closed as she expected another blow that never came. Instead there was thumping and yelling, the sound of skin being pierced before she heard bodies falling one by one.


Why had he given up his identity? She wondered.


As the fighting came to a close, Maya tried to push herself up but she collapsed back down into the puddle with a bit of a splash. They’d gotten her pretty good this time, usually they didn’t do quite as much damage and they certainly never made any attempts to touch her like they had, but it was clear that these men were operating a bit of their own accord. To think, she could have just stayed at home and curled up in bed — she would have avoided all of this. But it wasn’t a reality for her. Rico had given her a lot since she ended up on the streets and it was only fair that she repaid him. After all, a fifteen year old pretty girl didn’t live very long in Daunton and she owed her life to him on more than one occasion.


She felt strong arms underneath her all of a sudden, behind her knees and back, as she was picked up from the ground and carried away. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know that it wasn’t one of the thugs and instead it was the man she had come to face three times today…well, not face. That was poor wording on her part. After a few moments of silent walking, the rain had lightened a little and he set her down on an old bench only a few minutes from her own apartment but still in Daunton. Her eyes fluttered open slowly as she took in the sight around her only to glance down at her own body. Her dress had ridden up a bit and skin red from where they’d grabbed her, her shoulder still bleeding slightly and ribs aching, but she was alive. A hand came up to brush the wet mop of hair out of her face and looked back at the man with kind blue eyes that pierced through the rain.


“I’ll be fine,” she managed a smile and a nod, but there was no denying that her body was spent beyond reason and sitting up was getting more and more difficult. Her eyes were tracing over every new feature of this body he inhabited. No, not inhabited. The new body he copied. “You’re bleeding,” she mentioned offhandedly, her fingers coming up to touch the edge of the frayed shirt where the knife had pierced. “It doesn’t look like it pierced anything but you need to stop the bleeding.” With quick hands, she yanked the dangling piece of shirt from his side and balled it up, pressing it against the wound and holding it there with nimble fingers.


While she watched the bleeding subside a bit, the slight rain washing away a good amount of the blood that already stained his skin, she knew it wasn’t too bad of a wound. There were so many questions running through her head that she wanted to ask — but none of them involved bringing up killing. All she wanted to know was how this worked. How could he take the faces and identities of others? Why was he running? Who was he running from? But none of them seemed appropriate as she was nothing more than some stranger he’d met on more than one occasion in a crazy fit of happenstance.


“Thank you,” Maya finally settled on, her eyes still on tending to his wound. Rain gathered in her eyelashes. “For saving me back there, I mean. You didn’t really have a reason to and I understand that I’m a risk to you — but thank you.”

 

[Atherium]

Her rushing to tend to his wound left him speechless, and in shock. He watched with wide eyes as she, hurt as she was, stained her hands with his blood only to stop him from bleeding. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, and it took him a whole minute to register. His teeth gritted at the slight pain that was inflicted as she touched the open wound, but he took it all with no sign, at all, simply struggling to understand. Why? It's true, he saved her from a brutal beating and a possible rape, but that didn't make her need to repay him by tending to his gushing wound. It seemed as if she worked magic with her hands, for the bleeding was coming to a stop, letting place only for a slight ache. But her gesture of kindness was still surprising him. He never thought, eversince he has been given freedom, that a human would be so kind to a... monster like him. What he was now was the fault of humans and humans were the ones to haul him away after they discovered what he was capable of. A horrid vicious circle. And yet this girl was still there, with him, tending to his wound with much attention, even if just hours earlier he threatened to murder her. Hell, now as he thought about it, it was pretty much his fault, those guys were looking for him and tried to take the information from her.


"Don't mention it..." He trailed off, barely managing to find his words in the surprise that struck him about this girl. "I hate assholes. And after all, they were looking for me, weren't they? You had nothing to do with it. But why didn't you speak away, why were you enduring that beating when you could have simply told them who I was? You're a human, after all. A normal human. You could have just gotten yourself rid of all responsibility, like most others do." He continued, before trailing off yet again, his tone now switching, and sounding as if he spoke from the depths of a pit of sadness and grief. He didn't enjoy the life he led, at all, but what could he do? It was all decided 16 years ago, in that rainy night.


"Richard, you're a fucking moron! I go to visit my parents for two fucking days and you bring whores in my house and shove your cock in every of their holes, shamelessly! I am so done with you!" The woman screamed on the edge of crying, all while her husband watched her unleash her anger, while seeming more than careless. Actually, his eyes spoke more words than he did. He didn't give a fuck about what she was saying. He didn't care what she called him. He just watched her as she paced back and forth, with tears in her eyes, cursing her own life and the bad decisions she took so far. "Why don't you say something? You let me rot and wither here while you're probably thinking of that redhead i found you getting sucked by! Is that the truth, hm?!? IS IT???" She screamed again at the top of her lungs as she leaped towards the man, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.


The sound of a heavy slap was heard and the yet young, and beautiful blonde stumbled back, her hand coming to rest instantly upon the cheek that she received the hit against. It stung. But it hurt more that this slap came from the man that years ago swore to love her to his very death. It now all looked like he was waiting for her to die first. Bursting out in a loud blubber, she fell to her knees and covered her reddened face with her palms. How did she end up like this? She was a happy young girl living in the countryside with her parents. Nature was her life and what she loved the most was freedom. Until he came along in his luxurious car, all self confident and throwing money left and right. Oh, cursed be the night when she met him, and instantly fell to his sweet charms. Soon enough, she, the young girl, was becoming the wife of a rich and influential man from the town of Kenton. No longer was she free, but she was happy with him. If only she knew what sort of man he really was.


Passionate love nights resulted in a child, a little boy, and after that, started dumbing down. Soon, love turned into nothing more than sex and just as quick, Elaina became nothing more but a fuck toy for this rich man to spit his seed into, or upon. Their boy was now seven years old, and, as the fight between the two was taken in the room, he sat by the door, listening and tearing up as he heard his mother cry. "I don't want to know anything about you anymore, you... you... you bloody animal! Take your fucking house, take everything, take even that kid and leave me!!! I HATE you!" She screamed before storming out of the room, nearly slamming the little boy with the door. It was all followed by a divorc and eventually, the boy was one day left in an orphanage, his father simply disposing of him as if he was an old, used toy that he no longer needed. He cried and begged in vain, clung to his parent's leg, but his father was adamant, and shook him off, leaving him all alone and scared. Betrayed and abandoned. By a rich man that happened to be his father.





This is what he remembered as he fell deeper into the abyss of sadness, while awaiting a response from the girl.

 

[Poe]

Maya heard his words and did not offer him anything more than a simple, “Why didn’t you kill me?” She glanced up at him, a soft smile on her lips as her hands made quick work of his wound. The truth was, she wasn’t sure he knew why he had helped her and she was okay with that. He’d clearly grown up a little rough around the edges and as he spoke, there was a deep sadness in his words even behind the semi-growl of his voice. “It’s okay, I don’t really need to know why — all I know is that you didn’t and while I’m grateful for that, I’m not sure I have to understand.”


A few seconds passed, her breathing finally slowed and heart rate back to a manageable speed. She knew running all too well and often times she wished she could just disappear. To be someone entirely different. To pretend she didn't live like this — teetering between this woman Rico sold her out to be and the same scared fifteen year old who never seemed to be able to make it anywhere in the world. “If I rid myself of responsibility every single time a man thought himself better or stronger than I was, well, I wouldn't have much humanity left in me — now would I?”


“I figure it’s a vicious cycle. I give you up, those guys go after you, you end up killing them and then have to kill someone else to find yourself a new face,” she shook her head, a soft and exhausted laugh escaped her lips that pained her ribs. “I don’t want to give you up because I don’t want you to have to kill anymore people than you have to.”


“But mostly, I didn’t tell them who you were because you clearly didn’t want to be found. I’ve found that when you start running and keep running, the idea of anyone stopping you is enough to keep you desperate. You end up doing anything to stay alone,” Maya mused, her voice soft but still clear over the soft patter of rain on the sidewalk. “And before you know it, you lose yourself.”


“And you look like that,” she looked up at him, nodding to his expression. “Like the world has managed to snuff out all the light.”


Maya sighed, shifting her weight a bit and letting out a grunt, mentally taking stock of her injuries. She had some bruised ribs, if not one or two cracked ones, and that was the most painful. Every time she inhaled, she felt the rippling pain through her body and let out a shaky breath. At least they weren’t broken. Broken ribs were always the worst. She really would have been in rough shape if he hadn’t shown up and it was strange that they were here, sitting together on a bench in the rain, discussing humanity and motives. When she finally looked back up at him, the sadness so deep in his eyes that she wished to reach out and touch it, to pull it close and ease it. Not because she needed to, but because she wanted to. It must have been a hard existence, never truly knowing your own face.


“It’s the eyes, by the way,” she mentioned, her voice kind. “That’s how I know it’s you. You can’t mask that kind of hurt, not really.”

 

[Atherium]

"It seems we both have a special talent of getting ourselves neck deep in shit, huh?" He spoke out in a half amused tone, trying as much to bury his bitterness. Still, sitting with this normal, yet so fearless girl felt absolutely strange. He never thought such people would exist, and yet there she was, explaining herself and her motives to him, making him actually question himself and ask himself if there might be a chance for somebody else like her to exist. Having never learned what positive feelings towards other people were like, he now couldn't understand that strange sensation that slipped through him as he watched her talk. And he couldn't understand why she seemed to genuinely care about him, a monster that did nothing else but kill and steal faces. She couldn't actually mean what she said, could she?


Oh, and how her words struck him, and it felt painful, but the pain was relieved, ironically, by her voice. What even was happening to him? As she looked him in the eyes and revealed that she could see what they bore, the sadness and misery that accompanied him at every step, he was a step close from bursting out in the cries that were ravaging him from the inside. He wanted to just throw himself in her arms and cry until he had no more tears left to spill. Nobody eversince he was abandoned did as much as listen to him. Involuntarily, he found himself taking one of her hands into one of his, as if that hand alone was what kept him anchored to this world. He felt extraordinary emotion and couldn't find a way to utter the many words that stood now on the tip of his tongue, searching for release. "I..."


But before he actually spoke further, reluctance being one of his major traits, he found himself taking his hand away from her and taking a serious posture again, struggling to keep away anything that could slip past him and go towards her. No. What he had was enough, and what she had was also enough, for her. Neither of them needed more concerns, and one for the other would be an actual problem. They came from different worlds, even though their situations seemed, for the most part, the same. But he was way lower than she was. She might understand him, mentally, but that was no actual help. If he wanted that, he could go to a psychologist and that was that. He needed to tread this path alone, she needed not to get involved in his life and the miserable way he lived it in.


"Nevermind." He spoke out in a dry tone, cutting away every bond that was shallowly formed between the two in the minutes that they spent, sitting on a bench in the rain. "I will lead you to your home, and then we both get back to our lives. Forget me. I will bring no good in your already hard enough life, and I don't need more to deal with than i already have. You're normal, and I'm not. This makes enough a point towards the fact that we should never be here, talking about anything. You hid my identity and i happened to save you. That is all that there can be. Now, let's go. Where do you live?" He asked as he stood up, awaiting for her to do the same.

 

[Poe]

It was a strange turn of events, of that Maya was certain. Not only had this man opened up to her a bit, let her in, but his hand had found hers and held it like a lifeline. No, they didn’t have much in common and no they weren't from the same worlds (as she was certain that he’d faced far more suffering than she) but it was like they were connected — for a moment — by all the demons in their past. But then in a single instant, it was all gone. He’d retreated back into himself, his body going rigid and his hand returning to his own lap. Even his eyes, which had shown her so much, were diverted as to cut her off from him. Whether it was out of fear or not, she could not tell but she knew there was some underlying reason.


Considering what he’d become, she was certain that someone had hurt him far beyond reason. Perhaps even enough so to doubt the entirety of humanity. For a hurt that deep to fester in a heart was tragic to Maya. There was good in the world, even in some place like Kenton, but you had to look and she knew how tiring that was for some people. His tone was short as he spoke to her, informing her rather than asking her to allow him to bring her home. But Maya did not take any of it to heart and instead took a deep breath in through her nose and then exhaled it as she stood. “You’re right,” she yawned, stretching her limbs as best she could despite her injuries. “It’s getting late anyway. Come on, I live a few blocks this way, right on the edge of Clinton.”


They walked together in silence though the walk itself seemed longer. Maya was still injured pretty badly, her limbs throbbing and ribs rattling with a terrible pain, but she did not falter. While her body was slow, her head was held high and there was no trace of shame despite the looks she got as they walked. After a few minutes, they’d reached Lin’s place and made their way up the back stairs slowly before heading down the hallway and ending up at her apartment. Unable to unjam the door with her shoulder, Maya hip checked the door and watched as it broke free a bit, just enough for her to grab the handle and push it open slightly ajar. She did not look back at the man as she spoke, her eyes on the door in front of her.


“I never said my life was too hard,” Maya said, her voice warm but quiet. It wasn’t much to offer him, but she was serious. He was so ready to write her off because of her apparently difficult life but that wasn’t how it worked. Regardless of how difficult her life was, she would never leave someone when they needed help. “And for what it’s worth, I’m Maya,” she breathed out before turning back to him over her shoulder with a kind smile.


“Take care of yourself, okay?”


With that, Maya stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind her, her back rested against the wood as she let out a sigh. She couldn’t bring herself to find a reason why she was doing what she was doing — but her whole life she had lived around powerful men who believed that they were more than the rest of the world simply because they had the money and influence to do so. To find someone like him, like that man who was so entirely torn apart by the world but still managed to hold that sadness in his eyes…his heart was still there, still intact, and she had known the darkness to well to be able to see someone struggling and not lend a hand in the darkness. But he was adamant and Maya couldn’t force him to do anything, so she let him go. She let him sever ties and walk away from her with the intention of never seeing her again.


But she knew better. He would be back and she would be there when he was — for whatever reason.

 

[Atherium]

The whole walk to Maya's apartment, in silence, was a torment for the man. For there were voices within him that argued constantly. Open a subject, goddammit, said one, while another, an envenomed and bitter one, was constantly trying to supress it. Don't. She can't understand what you have been through and she can't give a shit about it. She is just another human, a deceiver, a liar. Just like your father and just like those guys in black suits and the ones in white lab coats. Remember? They told you everything will be fine, and then they'd make you cry and scream, stick needles in you and cut your skin open. She is the same as them, and behind that innocent figure lies a prey animal in await. As soon as you get attached to her, she will destroy you. All the constant talk within his mind pained him beyond reckoning. He tried to silence the voices but all he could do was listen while stealing short peeks of the girl that walked beside her. There was a third voice, so low and barely audible, that only whispered to him of how beautiful she was and that, just as him, she needed somebody to talk to, and maybe somebody to love her as no one ever did. But the voice was being supressed to almost non-existence.


As they reached her apartment, which was just as modest, it seemed, as his, he was torn by the insecurities that built inside him during their whole walk. He wanted so badly to say at least a goodbye, but that voice just screamed into his mind that he should warn the girl never to cross his path again. And then there was the third voice, which told him he should approach,and attempt to embrace her. "Take care of yourself, okay?" Pfffft. Look at her pretending she cares. Look her in the eyes and see how she gazes at you with fake concern. You don't need her, and she sure as hell doesn't need you. Next time you see her in danger, just let her die. She deserves it just as much as all the others do. Mankind has done so much wrong to you, you cannot deny that, you just live in a world full of liars and deceivers. And she is one of them. The embittered voice spoke loudly into his mind, suppressing the two other voices that were trying to convince him otherwise. Narrowing his eyes, the strange man decided not to even respond, more out of fear that he might spit out the words that the poisoned voice dictated to him in the style of a nazi propaganda. Sometimes, he hated the fact that he grew talking to these voices in his head. Now they seemed to rule him.


He tried, however, to shoot the girl a gaze with the least of warmth, which came out worse than he wished. The whole walk back to his apartment was ruled over by the sane, conscious voice, that berated him for being an impolite dick with the girl that was genuinely kind to him. Are you insane? One single damned person in this whole bastard world gives you attention, tends to your bleeding wound, talks to you and smiles at you, and you wave her off like this? You should be ashamed of yourself. No wonder you are where you are. If I was in your place, i would return to her apartment, knock on her door and beg for her forgiveness. You done fucked up tonight. Really bad. The poisoned voice, on the other hand, now screamed atop its lungs like a lunatic locked in the psychiatry ward, or like an exorcized demon. But the screams were muffled, as if the sane voice tied it to a chair and gagged it with a rag. The man sighed out loud, realizing he was just now entering the ghetto block. Somewhere around the entrance, two voices moaned in the shadows. Probably some teenagers who couldn't wait to get to a bed. He could even picture a girl, pinned to a wall, with her legs wrapped about a guy's waist who only did as much as set his phallus free by unzipping his pants.


As he entered his miserable apartment, he didn't bother to do anything anymore. His weary legs carried him to the bedroom, and his massive body only collapsed on the mattress, his mind falling prey to the thick tentacles of sleep.


There came the day. It has been much spoken of it, by the children and also the caretakers. Caretakers that, in all honesty, were only there to sip on their coffee and punish any child that would dare to as much as cross their path. Some of the children could not even sit properly, their buttocks black and blue from the many belt whippings they endured. Any child who was doing wrong knew they were going to the "Room". And they also knew they would never come out of it. At least, none of those who entered it did. But today it wasn't anyone's turn to go to the Room. Today, it was the important day when a group of people came to pick children, to take them to a "better place" as it was said. All the children were properly alligned and dressed, as if they stood there for a photo shoot. The principal stood there, by the children, awaiting the arrival of the officials. And there they came through the door. Two men in black, and one dressed in a white lab coat. The principal was quick to greet the men, but none of them responded. The lab coat man's face was blurred out, and he immediately began inspecting the alligned orphans, picking any to his liking. The two men signaled for the little boys and girls to step out of the line and come next to them. A group of 20 was chosen, a group in which the little boy was included.


The dream dispersed in smoke as soon as the man's mind was awakened. His eyes soon followed, just to revealed that his room was bathing in darkness. He gazed out on the window as he lain in bed, and, inevitably, the girl's face flashed before his eyes. Was he falling in love?

 

[Poe]

“My guys went too far, I know, but they’re being taken care of,” Rico’s voice echoed from Maya’s shitty apartment a few days later. He was a short and stout man, his black hair thinning but face defined enough to be considered stern, but he had some softer eyes that gave him away. He was dressed in a suit far too nice for the time of day and stretched his arms out across the back of the couch like he owned the place. All in all, Rico wasn’t a bad guy but he was the kind of guy who got what he wanted. “How many times can I tell you I’m sorry for that?”


“Another hundred, maybe?” Maya replied, finally emerging from her bedroom with her fingers pulling down on a black tank top she’d managed to scrounge up that fell over her toned stomach, showing off just a bit of the black lace panties she was wearing. It was summer in Kenton and Maya didn’t have air conditioning, so she made due with a fan on the counter and wearing as little clothing as possible. “I get it, I fucked up the job, but yours guys were gonna —“


“And you’ll never hear from them again,” Rico cut her off, his eyes traced over her as they often did. There was a reason he used her for business deals and as the years went by in their partnership, Maya just grew more and more beautiful. “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Maya scoffed, grabbing a glass and throwing a few ice cubs in it before grabbing the whiskey off the top of the fridge and pouring herself a drink. “Usually when I don’t hear from people again, you killed them.”


“You know I’d never get my hands dirty like that,” he smirked.


“No, of course not,” Maya shook her had and turned to rest her back against the countertop. The whiskey burned just right in her throat and worked as a pain killer. She’d managed to bandage up her shoulder and quite a few of the other small lacerations, but they still ached. “So you’re really not going to tell me who the guy was?” Rico added, eyebrow raised. “After he killed my only point of export?”


“I’m telling you, Rico, I don’t know who this guys is — I don’t even know his name,” Maya sighed. While she wasn’t entirely lying to him, she was still lying but doing it effortlessly. She learned a long time ago that having a big mouth in Rico’s line of business got you killed real fast. “I don’t even remember what happened after your guys jumped me, I just remember waking up on a damn park bench, which, thanks by the way. It was hell on my back. Why the hell would he even come back for me in the first place?”


“Maybe he wanted to kill you too,” Rico said, shrugging. Maya smirked at his words because she knew that the man hadn’t been willing to kill her. “Or maybe he was just infatuated with a beautiful girl. You don’t look like you belong on the edge of Daunton, Maya. How many times do I have to tell you that? But I need to catch this guy. He can’t fuck with me like that and then run.”


“What are you gonna do?” Maya asked. “You’re not going to be able to draw him out.”


“I could bait him,” Rico replied.


Maya looked up at him, “With what?”


There was a beat of silence and then it clicked in her mind. “Fuck off, Rico. You’re not using me as bait for your little revenge plot. I did what you asked, I let Trevor take me out but it is not my fault that this random killer took him out nor do I think he’ll come after some random girl. You don’t even know how to get in contact with him.”


“I’m working on it, kid, always working,” he pushed himself up so that he was standing, his hands came up to straighten out his suit jacket and button it in the front, though it was a bit of a struggle. “You see, I think there’s a reason he was at the restaurant and then in that alley. Your little savior’s got a bit of an infatuation with you, or he wants to kill you. Both will draw him out again. It’s only a matter of time before we find him. Strong build, knife wound to the ribs, kinda guy like that won’t be too hard to snuff out so long as we’ve got something he’s eyeing.”


“Get the hell out of here Rico, I’m not doing this,” Maya growled, downing the rest of her drink before slamming the glass down on the countertop. “You want to get this guy? You find him. I didn’t sign up for this.”


“Well, you see,” Rico cleared his throat. “That’s actually the exact mindset I need you in. Gotta make this believable, don’t we? What do you think he odds are that he’s hanging around this very apartment? A few blocks maybe?”


“Rico, I swear —"


“I’ll see you later, kid,” Rico waved at her, making his way out her apartment door down to who knows where, but she assumed somewhere far from what was about to transpire in her apartment. “God damn it,” Maya bit out. “Shit.” Pulling on a pair of jeans, Maya made her way for the front door and felt it slam open, against her, knocking her back onto the ground. A few of Rico’s guys were there, smirks on their faces as the stepped into the apartment, grabbing her by her bad arm and yanking it up, eliciting a scream from her that echoed through the apartment and out the open window. Before she knew it, they had her tied to a chair, duct tape over her mouth as she struggled against them.


“Let’s see if we can’t draw out a demon, shall we?” one of them snarled, gun in his hand as he pointed it away from Maya and at the far window, pulling the trigger so that the glass broke over the street. She hoped with everything she had that the stranger was nowhere to be found. He didn’t deserve the shit she was managing to put him through. The easiest option would be to let her go, let the men do what they would, and go on living his own existence.


But somehow, deep in her heart, she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

 

[Atherium]

The following days were a living hell for him. The payment for his job arrived, a good thousand dollars, which, unfortunately, went right out on the window with paying the rent and getting some food while he could. But that was not his biggest problem. Seeing as he wasn't needed outside, for now, he tried isolating himself, locking the door and throwing the keys somewhere where he wouldn't be tempted to grab them. The girl was becoming a constant occurence in his thoughts, and his mind was intoxicated with her face and her voice as she spoke to him in that rainy night. The wound in his side diminished and almost fully healed, but his heart, now, ached. The voices inside his mind were also not giving him peace, waging war each against the other, trying to gain as much space as possible. His rational voice was the only one that seemed fairly passive and actually logical. But he barely could hear it over the other two that dictated them either to relish in the feelings and go look for the girl, either to forget her and inflict pain upon self for relief and remembrance of what humans just like her did to him.


He tried numbing the pains with drink, but drink only made him weaker than he was. Fortunately, he forgot where he threw the keys when, drunk, he had the impulse to go out and find the girl. She knew what he was capable of, and seeing him drunk wouldn't have been a pretty sight for her. Another night went by, tainted by devilish nightmares and heavenly dreams dominated by the girl that seemed to have become an obsession to him. And the next morning, just as he woke up, he heard it. The rational voice, speaking to him in secrecy, as the other two were sleeping, and couldn't intrerupt it. Go. Find the girl and speak with her. Only that way you can calm your inner turmoil. It's clear that for now, she is the cause of your misery, and maybe, just maybe, the cure to it. Get up, and go. And so he did. After an hour spent in the shower for a meticulous cleaning of self, he again went past a mirror. He noticed the beard that was growing, uncared for, and grabbing a razor, he shaved it clean, his face lighter now than ever. It took him some more time to find appropriate clothing to fit this body, as it was way above the size of other bodies he had used. But fortunately, he did find. He slipped on a black shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans, and set his feet into a pair of (not so) esthetic combat boots which he had laying around.


Eventually, after a half an hour's search, he came upon the keys he had thrown away. All the while, again, the psychotic voice, the venomous serpent in his mind tried detering him from taking his plan forth. Don't do this. You will regret it greatly when she will step on you like on her front door carpet, wipe her shoes on you then leave you broken and miserable. She cannot be trusted, and nobody else can. The voice spat out, but in vain. He was decided to take his plan through. In his mind was now set a clear purpose, and he wasn't one to give up on his purposes. He walked out of the house with high hopes, and he just then noticed the heat outside, and also, the heat within him. It was as if somebody dropped a whole sack of hot coal in his stomach and chest. And at the same time, he felt his spine turn to ice, and his heart racing. Such a variety of feelings, all gathered together. He only hoped that in his way, he wouldn't accidentally meet an acquaintance of the man he had the body from. Now that would have been a great, great problem. And something within him, a dreadful spike, told him that this day wouldn't quite go out as planned.


He didn't notice that he was rushing the pace as he approached to turn the corner and enter the street on which Maya's apartment was located, and he felt as if he didn't even walk on solid concrete any longer. He felt as if... the world was turning with him. Stopping just by the corner, he took a deep breath, acting as if just around the corner stood the girl, awaiting him with a big and heartfelt smile. What am i going to say? He asked his mind, hoping the rational voice was still there, listening to him and offering unconditioned advice and help. Instead, it was all silent. No sign of the rational voice, nor the dreamy one, hell, not even the serpent was there. He felt his knees all becoming weak, as if they were gelatinous, as he realised he was all alone now. He didn't even know how to utter a "hello" properly, let alone to speak to this girl. Oh, come on, you can't be that dumb. Just find a reason plausible enough and you'll be good, he tried to encourage himself mentally as he took another breath. But he felt glued to the concrete, and couldn't proceed forward for the next minute.


"Okay, fuck it, i have no reason to be here." He reluctantly grunted and prepared to turn around. This situation was too much for now, and he couldn't even know if, after his previous behavior, the girl even wanted to see him before her eyes anymore. For sure, she won't, the venomous voice found the perfect moment to whisper, now clearly convincing him that what he was pursuing was nothing but a dream destined to fail. With the least amount of regret, he felt his feet and legs involuntarily move him back towards the way he came. But just one step was, however, taken, before the gunshot was heard coming from the general direction of the girl's apartment. The venomous voice hissed to him that it was probably only a couple of street boys playing with their toys, but the sound of breaking glass ultimately determined him to force his own body around, his own body that seemed possesed by demons, and take a peak around the corner. The street was empty. Empty, aside a black car that was, oddly enough, parked just outside the building where Maya's apartment was found.


He only needed to follow the line with his gaze to discover that the broken glass was indeed from Maya's apartment. His whole being froze, and the ultimate impulse was to rush, and come to her aid, for he now was assured that the girl was in distress. The venomous voice clearly opposed it, telling him again that he is making a big mistake and delving deep into shit that did not belong to him. A few seconds passed as he stood there, frozen in place, until he snarled angrily while starting out in a rush towards the entrance in the building. "Fuck you."


He didn't see when or how he ran up the stairs, he only found himself standing before a kick opened door. His heart was throbbing in his chest and concern was clearly readable in his eyes as he stopped there, and stared directly to Maya, who was now silenced with tape and tied to a chair. The logical voice told him it was clearly a trap which he had to avoid at all costs and think before jumping into action, however, he decided, this time, to a wrong extent, to simply shut away the voices and not pay attention to them. Maya was in danger, and he had to do something. Even her eyes screamed the words she couldn't and told him to be careful, but he was blinded by rage and by fear. He feared. Careful but no enough, he stepped through the door. His steps were lying easy upon the floor as he approached, and even if Maya's eyes now gazed somewhere behind him, he was too busy thinking of how to cut her away from that chair. He didn't even notice how the men creeped behind him. A metal pipe struck him with brutality in the back of his head, and another two baseball bats hit at the back of his knees, getting him to kneel and fall on the floor in a second.


From there, the six men released their fury upon him, one of them being one of the three attackers from a few nights ago, still bearing a freshly stitched wound in his forehead from a brutal headbutt that rendered him in a near coma. Feet stomped the man's body, immediately breaking a few ribs of his and causing him minor internal bleedings. He gasped in pain and cried out in despair as he tried to stand on his weakened arms, each time being sent down back with a hit on his back, or a kick. As at a sign, the whole ordeal stopped, and he felt no more pain than he already did. From his mouth leaked hot blood mixed with vomit caused by the numerous kicks he received in the stomach. A mess of blood and broken teeth now lain on the floor. Yet, he wasn't passed out. He lain there, with his tongue out, nearly choking in his own secretions as he tried, but failed to gaze up. A trigger in his mind told him that he had to escape this situation, and despite the severe traumas his body has suffered, he yet found the strenght to pull himself a little bit up by the torso, then drag himself with his last remnants of strenght towards the door. All while the men watched, mockingly, one of them lighting himself up a cigarette as he enjoyed the humiliating show.


As he neared the doorstep, however, he saw a pair of exaggerately clean, black shoes. He only found as much strenght as to force his head to gaze up, and to meet the merciless and satisfied gaze of Rico, who was now pulling a pair of surgical gloves upon his hands, as an omen to what was to come for the man that fell into his trap like a fly into a spider's web. Rico then extended his hand towards one of his guys and, being handed one of the bloodied baseball bats, he grinned maliciously before letting it fall with hatred against the man's head. His sight immediately blacked out, and his forehead hit heavily against the floor, as he now passed out for good. Rico stepped over the body before closing the door behind him, and right after, his men, having already prepared a chair, lifted him and tied him to it with not much struggle.


"See?" Rico spoke to the horrified Maya with a sort of sickly pride. "I told you i could bait him."

 

[Poe]

No, no, no. Maya was trying so hard to scream for the stranger, her eyes wide and tears pooling in the corners of them as he burst through the apartment door. She felt sick to her stomach watching as Rico’s men came up behind him and began beating him, tearing him down until he was nothing more than a bloody mess on the floor. God, she had just made his life so much more difficult and if it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn't have come back. Why did he keep coming back? She struggled against her restraints, the ropes around her wrists tearing into her skin uncomfortably but she didn’t even care. She needed to break free, she needed to help him, and then she saw Rico’s shoes make their way into her apartment, gloves on his hands as he took the bat and nearly broke through the man’s skull, sending him to the ground with a sickening thud. A scream buried deep in her throat. “I told you I could bait her,” Rico had said, securing him into a chair.


With an uncharacteristically gentle hand, he peeled the duct tape from Maya’s mouth causing her to gasp. The way her hands were yanked behind her made her shoulder scream out in pain and a few tears trailed down her cheeks though she made no motion to express her hatred for Rico. With his hands free of the gloves, Rico trailed her fingertips over Maya’s face and wiped away the tears that had fallen. “No, no, kid,” he cooed. “Don’t cry.”


“God, fuck you, Rico,” Maya choked out, her lungs greedily inhaling the dingy air of her apartment. Rico tilted his head to the side and tucked her dark locks behind her ear, tilting her head up by the chin to inspect and see if the tape had left a mark. Always concerned for her pretty face. It made her want to vomit and she felt the bile building in the pit of her stomach. “Just let him go, you nearly beat the life out of him just let him go.”


“Why would you defend him? The hell do you owe this guy?” Rico asked, making no move to untie her. Maya yanked against her binds to no avail. “I don’t owe him anything, I just don’t want you to kill a man in my god damn apartment. That’s all,” Maya lied through her teeth, gritting them as she used what strength she could muster. She didn’t even know what she’d do if she got free but she had to do something. She couldn’t just let them torture and kill him. The thought of it made her heart beat painfully in her chest. “You know, I think I was right,” Rico laughed, glancing over at the passed out heap in the chair next to her. There was blood everywhere and he didn’t even look like a man anymore. “Did you see his face? I thought it was more likely that he wanted to kill you, but it seems like he’d much rather fuck you.”


Maya looked up at him as he spoke the words and knew that she was not getting released any time soon. Instead, the twisted smile on his features showed her the alternative. He wasn’t done with the man yet, not by a long shot. A few hours later, after they’d helped themselves to her whiskey, everyone noticed the stranger slowly coming to consciousness and Rico smirked, tightening his arm around Maya, who he had kept bound and gagged with a tied cloth by his side on the couch. “You like her, huh?” he spoke to the stranger, grabbing his attention. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she? Beautiful, kind, and wrapped up in a whole bunch of fucking baggage.”


He grabbed Maya’s face and turned it, ignoring the hurt in her eyes to show off her features. “Found her when she was fifteen, near starving to death in that alley out back,” he chuckled darkly. “Knew the moment I saw her that she had balls, after all it’s not easy to run from an orphanage and live on your own — unwanted, alone, and scared — so I made her a deal. She helped me with a few…favors and I would, in turn, provide protection. Worked pretty damn well for a long time too, until you came along. No family, no home, she was perfect for the taking and I’m not one to miss such a tantalizing opportunity.”


“This all could have been avoided,” he mentioned, shrugging his shoulders as though it were as simple as anything. “if you had just left that man alive and this pretty little face would be safe and sound, sleeping in nothing more than a set of lace panties and a bra. Imagine that, huh? It’s a killer sight, easily one of the wonders of the world. Believe me, I showed up today and she was just parading around. You see, she’s not quite the wholesome little girl you’ve come to know. Dresses up in short skirts and entertains whoever I desire because she has to, because at the end of the day I own her. Do you understand that? She’s mine.”


“I can do whatever I damn well please to her,” Rico laughed, grabbing her by her injured arm and throwing her to the floor, a cry muffled behind the cloth. “and there’s nothing you can do about it.”


“That includes killing you right in front of her and letting you bleed out all over this damn apartment,” Rico glanced back at Maya, who was struggling to free herself, tears in her eyes. “Sure, you killed Trevor but he was a loose end. What I really can’t stand is having women in my life who don’t quite know their place.”


He raised a gun to the man’s head, a few paces between them, “So let’s teach her a lesson, shall we?”

 

[Atherium]

The first day of tests. The men in white coats came, and took a few of the boys with them. They boy didn't know what to expect, and, out of curiosity, he asked. He was, however, met with no response as they walked the strange corridor that led to the primary labs. Somewhere, from a room, a little girl was screaming and crying at top of her lungs. He tried recognizing her from her voice. He just had the sensation it was Stacy, one of the girls in the second wing of the orphanage. The men in white coats came a few weeks ago before they took him and the lot, and took her and another lot. So, this is where she got, hm? He couldn't and didn't understand why exactly she was screaming, but that, as of now, was of no importance. He was more curious about what was to happen to him in the labs. As the doors opened, he was greeted by a shimmering blank, and from its depths, a cacophony of voices was heard. He felt how slowly he was sinking into a pit of pain, each and every of his cells aching and throbbing. He now found himself in what looked like a secured glass container. His body was almost fully bandaged, and he couldn't move. Instead, he suffered pains that he never thought he would, all while the men in white coats stood by and noted things in their clipboards. And he felt a deep seeded hatred and fear towards them.


His eyes fluttered open as the dream dispersed in a dense fog. His body was numbed, yet throbbed with unmeasurable pains. He felt a bath of liquid rise to the base of his throat, acid, with a nasty taste. He also felt how blood has dried between his nose and upper lip, making it hard for him to move it. His arms hurt from the time they have been tied behind him in that brutal manner. And he heard a voice, one totally unfamiliar, along with the mumbles of another which he already knew very well. He felt as if a thick spider web was lain over his eyes and he could see before him only in blurred lines. Rising his head with the little strenght he found, he tried to make out the image before him, but it looked like Maya was now bound and laying on the couch at the side of the man that gave him the final strike just earlier. His voice resounded through echoes in his head and the deep seeded hatred from his dream now all but bursted in real life, making his sore and weary muscles to tighten.


Oh, and if gazes could only hurt, Rico would have been dead in the worst of manners, for, as his speech was unfolding, the strange man narrowed his eyes and became even more infuriated with the whole situation. And as if it all was not enough, the poisoned voice in his mind spoke as well, as if it was a fresh ally of the man that had him bound to a chair. See? I told you she will fuck you up, but you didn't listen. If she was as pure as you claimed her to be, she would have warned you of the guys she plays with. No, no, no, don't you dare not imagine it. You know that a pretty girl like her can't be untouched, right? I hope you understand by now that she is their slut, and that she's probably had more stiffs stuck in her than bodies that you took. Poor fool. Feels painful to see reality, doesn't it? She's a whore, a tramp, a liar, a deceiver, and now, she is getting you killed. Let's see you get out of this. The voice finally uttered before dissipating, leaving the man alone only with Rico and his guys who seemed oh so eager to tear him apart. And the next thing he witnessed was a gun pointed straight towards him.


But, just as always with him, reluctance being a huge part of him, he did not feel fear towards it. He's been through much worse, a poor gun pointed at him by a cocky bastard was absolutely nothing. He only felt a blinding rage seeing as the girl was being handled like nothing more than a mere doll. And even if she would be the liar and whore the poisoned voice claimed she is, he still couldn't get over her. At that point, he was ready to deal his own life over hers. However, he still wanted her, so that would get him nothing, no. He had to escape somehow. Glancing up with poor strenght left in him, he shot Rico a spiteful gaze before mumbling. "Fuck you." The dangerous Rico almost gazed in disbelief, seeing as he yet did not manage to inspire enough fear, if any at all, into the man's bones. And he did not like it. The man's head dangled again and his gaze was cast downwards, but that didn't stop him from seeing the overly clean shoes approaching him. A chill rose into his spine as he felt the cold metal of the gun against his head, as Rico asked with a mocking tone about his voice.


"What was that? Did I hear an apology? Oh, no, no I did not, I just heard an insult. So, you have balls, huh? I like that, you know? Makes the game more fun, gives it more thrill. If you hadn't fucked up my business, i would even consider hiring you as my hitman. Or my personal buffoon, because you're funny. Too bad you had to ruin my day, and you had to touch my girl. Nobody touches her, aside me, and whoever else does... they don't live enough to remember it. But i think... i think this time, i will let my boys have a little bit of fun with her, for your personal delectation. I treat my guests with the best and, while i can not allow you to touch her, i can at least allow you to watch her getting stuffed up. Maybe you can even shoot a load without her having to pull it out of you?" He spoke, keeping his tone, all while the stranger's rage grew considerably. His body was all trembling in anger as Rico spoke the last part, and he hoped the man was just fucking around. However, when Rico gave the "go" to his men and the latter took steps towards the bound girl with grins on their faces, that was when something inside him snapped.


Rico moved out of the way and sat back onto the couch as he watched how his men were becoming more and more touchy with the bound Maya, just like dogs that firstly taste their treats. The stranger gazed horrified at the whole display and only the thought of what was about to unfold made his rage grow even more. Maya's tank top was slowly being pulled up, revealing her toned stomach and just a little peak of her bra and panties. The stranger's breath intensified as the rage was becoming overwhelming, and his hands worked behind his back, fiddling with the ties that held him tight against the chair. Rico watched with a satisfied smirk at both the scene and the stranger, enjoying how his gaze pierced through him. But what he didn't know was the the man had already freed himself and, in the very next second, he leaped forward out of the chair, pushed by an outworldly strenght and determination. Rico almost choked in surprise as the stranger jumped at the first man in his way and as he grabbed him, he proceeded to stealing his body.


The whole breath stopped and the guys could all but watch as their fellow was being twisted in a faceless form, all while the former prisoner's body morphed into it, his wounds healing instantly. And from there, the hell was all about to break loose.

 

[Poe]

The confrontation made Maya’s blood run ice cold, the way Rico taunted him and the stranger said nothing but a quick fuck you through clenched teeth. She hated the feeling of being powerless, being entirely helpless, and she tried to break free of her binds but she was not strong enough. It wasn’t until Rico mentioned her, did she look up again with fear in her eyes. He wouldn’t really let them…would he? They’d just gone over this and he had his other men taken care of for trying to do anything to her, but then again she had never seen Rico this desperate to break a man before in his life. When he gave the signal to go, the men all crept towards her like wolves and she thrashed against her restraints. They’re started slowly at first, picking at her tank top and running their fingers over her skin and she felt like she would surely vomit.


Maya had been with a few men before, but not like this. Never like this. Rico and his guys never ever touched her, but it seemed as though something in Rico had snapped and unfortunately she was tied up and at his mercy as it happened. They got a bit rougher, a few hands clamping down on her legs, another in her hair as their hands explored whatever they could and Maya was beginning to fall into hysterics. Her muffled cries were heartbreaking and tears streaked her cheeks as she tried so hard to get away from them but she couldn’t. The humiliation too overwhelming but she never gave up fighting, her muscles aching from pushing against men who were much stronger than she was. They’d managed to pull her tank top up over her bra and she screamed out against the gag to no avail. There was a desperation in her that she’d never really revealed — that same lonely and scared fifteen year old girl who was too pretty to be on the streets. Yeah, she was still her.


She hadn’t even noticed the stranger breaking free until one of the men was abruptly pulled off of her. Maya glanced up and saw as he killed the man, his hands on him as he stole his body, his face, his identity. The men around her stopped what they were doing immediately and watched as his features twisted and contorted into that of the man he killed. The corpse was now on the ground, faceless, and nothing but a heap of flesh. Maya’s eyes grew wide, but unlike the men around he she did not fear the stranger — no, she feared these men with wolf eyes and an insatiable taste for her cries. As all hell broke loose, Maya kept her eyes shut, not wanting to see the bloodshed or experience the death that she knew was about to paint her apartment. Instead, she focused on calming herself down after all her breaths had become ragged and anxious, a panic attack creeping up and threatening to suffocate her.


This was not how this day was supposed to go. This was not the life she was supposed to lead.


As the stranger took care of Rico’s men, Maya felt a hand in her hair yank her up painfully and she let out a muffled scream. Tears were in her eyes, her entire body shaking as Rico pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple and held her flush up against him. “Take another step and I swear I’ll fucking kill her,” Rico growled and in that moment Maya knew that this was going to be the end. She’d never be safe at her apartment again and if Rico was killed, there were a whole bunch of half-rate hit men who would be after the man who killed him. It was a vicious cycle. There was no way to stop it.


“Shhhh,” Rico shushed her, his lips in her hair as he pressed the cold metal harder against her skin, his finger taut on the trigger. Her body was shaking against him, her wrists rubbed raw from the ropes and hysterics bubbling up in her throat. She just wanted every single hand off of her and she couldn’t do a damn thing. “Let’s see if your little freak savior here values your life or if he doesn’t even want to touch you now that he’s seen who you really are.”


Maya ripped against her restraints and tried to speak through the gag, but it came out in a muffled and desperate mess off vowel sounds. She was not the girl Rico said she was — but regardless, she hoped the stranger took this opportunity to run. He didn't deserve to die by Rico’s hand, but in a way, she did. After all, she’d brought all this on them — and she had only known the man for less than a week.


God, this was all her fault.

 

[Atherium]

The first taste of the lifeforce of his victim ripped through his body, sending him into a convulsion and washing over his brain like the first daily dose of a drug addict. He so desperately needed it, he did not even bother to kill his victim first, and he discovered that this was a thousand times more enjoyable than just dead prey. It felt like the first mouthful of water after a long, exhausting walk in the desert, haunted and tormented by the thought of dying there, on the hot sand, with no water to drink. As he fed upon the very energy of the man trapped in his arms, who squirmed and cried tortured by the pain of being drained of self while alive and conscious, he felt his body convulsing, all while his disfigured and disjointed body gained a new form. He trembled with the vital energy, and closed his eyes, groaning in sheer pleasure at this delight. It felt like a thousand orgasms achieved with the girl of his most passionate dreams, all gathered together while brainfucked with drugs. Silence stretched as Rico and the other five men simply stared, not believing their own eyes. Rico's jaw dropped and fear snuck into his bones as he witnessed the unearthly transformation.


The stranger eventually dropped the lifeless, faceless and featureless mannequin after feeding on all of its energy. He stood there, shooting gazes at the shocked men as he took a step closer to Maya, appearing like a protective demon over her still bound and lying body. Nobody was going to touch her as long as he was there, and he was now eager to rip tongues off for what they have attempted to do to her. From hungry wolves, the men turned into scared puppies, cowering back with each step he took towards them. None of them seemed to want to have anything to do with this creature that seemed to have come from a completely other world. A sickly sound of popping errupted as he, getting himself accustomed to his new body, tilted his head left and right and popped his cervical spine. A delighted grin now danced on his face at the feeling of power and potency. Each of the men was going to have to pay in blood for touching Maya, of that, he was going to make sure. However, the five men, seeing as their rival just stood there, in defiance, caught a little courage, just enough for one of them to leap forward and attempt a punch at his face. The new energy he gained though, allowed him far more than he'd even imagine.


Before his eyes, the fist slowed down, along with time itself, thus allowing him to avoid it by simply tilting his head away. The man stumbled forth as he missed his punch, and the stranger's arms quickly grabbed him by the arm still extended forward, yanking him violently towards himself. The room was filled with the sickening sound of the thug's snapping arm, as it has been forced from the elbow in the opposite way from the normal angle of extension. Rico's man cried out in pain as he tried pulling himself from the trap he fell into. His eyes expressed horror as the stranger used his free hand to grab his throat, and choke him violently. The chokehold was brutal and it was only the beginning of something more gruesome. His fingers penetrated through the layer of skin, dipping into the flesh of the man's neck as he gargled on his own blood before the sickened and horrified gazes of the audience. Once having grabbed at his very throat, through the inside, the stranger pulled in the same violent manner, a shower of blood washing over his face as he cackled like a maniac. Never has murder felt so good. He now held in his hand the man's vocal chords and his still twitching tongue. His other hand discarded the slowly dying thug by tossing him to the side, the body falling against the floor with a thud. Blood was now painting the floor, even more blood than before.


The other men were now convinced there was no escape from this maniac, and Rico was terrified beyond reckoning by this situation that looked like a hallucination trip of a man on acid. With the four terrified men cowering in the corner, it was oh so easy for the stranger to pick any of them and yank them towards him. Sickening snapping bones and heavy hits were dealt as he all but payed them back for what they have done to him, and for what they would have done to Maya. Rage led his fist and his whole body, while the bodies of his victims fell one after another. The last one fell to the ground, twitching in the throes of a long and painful agony. The stranger displayed the same sickly, psychotic grin, his teeth holding onto torn chunks of flesh bitten off his victim's face. Never in his life has he thought that he would get as far as to torture somebody by eating their faces off, but there he was, maddened, grinning like a maniac, his face washed in now dried blood. He never believed human flesh would taste so... good.


And now, Rico was threatening him. Threatening to snuff the very life out of the girl he murdered six men already, for. Was he out of his minds? He might as well have gotten out of them, bearing witness to such horrors that painted the walls of the apartment red, forever. Both, the stranger and Rico now looked like two pacients of the psychiatry ward, facing off each another. The stranger displayed the same sick and twisted grin, glancing with cold, piercing eyes directly into Rico's mind, causing the latter's hand to shake, along with his whole body. The criminal lord was pissing his pants out of terror at the sight of the monstrosity that stood before him, stil holding a piece of facial flesh between his teeth. And then, the stranger spoke with a grim tone that was only an omen of an incoming death. "I never thought... I never thought i would ever enjoy eating human flesh, and i never thought of doing it. But you know?" He tilted his head to the right, taking a step closer. "You know what i wonder? I wonder if it all tastes the same. His face was delicious, but right now, i feel like eating another. Shoot her. Come on, just do it." He taunted. "Then we will both be all alone in this room, and there will be no god to hear you scream while i eat your face and your softest parts. I can already feel it... mmmm."


At that point, Rico's hand was as limp as a piece of melted rubber. He shook from all his bone joints and gazed back towards the man that taunted him and spoke to him such words. Desperate, he started taking steps back, just as the stranger took steps towards him. "S-stay away from me, filth!" Rico muttered as he neared the door. "I will fucking kill you!" He screamed in utter despair as he immediately pointed his gun at the man, and shot repeatedly. Bullets caught flight through the air as he missed all the shots. All but one that his the man into his shoulder, but not dangerously so. Just a scratch. The gun was now empty, and Rico trembled even harder. Never in his life has he been so terrified. Shoving Maya forward into the arms of the stranger, the man bought himself time enough to open the door and flee, spitting out a last warning before going completely out of sight and reach. "You haven't heard the last of me..."


The stranger, having caught Maya within his arms, felt how his rage and energy was slowly diminishing, and his arms came about her form in a tight embrace. as if all he wished was to protect her from anything that might come in contact with her anymore. He spat the piece of flesh upon the floor, and remained there, silently embracing Maya and holding onto her as if she was the only anchor to his sanity. And deep inside, he knew they wouldn't part ways from there on.

 

[Poe]

Maya had been trying so entirely to stop herself from falling into a panic attack, but she’d lost the battle. Even behind the gag, she was hyperventilating, her breath quick and ragged as the tears fell from her eyes, soaking her cheeks and the cloth gagging her. What had just happened in front of her was something she couldn’t shake from her mind. Maya had seen a lot of violence as a kid, plenty of people killed. She used to even look out her bedroom window at the boys and girls that would crawl into the back alleys and once she even saw a man slit a girl’s throat before leaving her to bleed out on the concrete. Maya had thought that was a lot of blood, but what was streaking the stranger’s face was more than she had ever seen in her life.


He had human flesh between his teeth, his eyes narrowed to slits as he dodged bullet after bullet that Rico shot off. Each one set off another facet of her anxiety and by the time he was finished, she was nearly crumpled in his hold, not caring about the pain in her scalp from where he held her up, and her knees buckled underneath her. She couldn’t breathe, her chest so tight she thought she was going to die before they could figure out their conflict. All she wanted was for the stranger to stop, to not lose himself in the rage that she knew dwelled within him because she could see it still in his eyes. That is, until she couldn’t. It was that moment that she didn’t see that pain in his eyes and it was replaced with rage and blood thirst that she began to lose her composure.


But she couldn’t do anything, no matter how violently she ripped against her bindings and it only made her hysterics worse. She couldn’t breathe and her heart was racing so fast in her chest that it was painful. He shoved Maya’s body into the stranger and she lurched forward, her arms still bound as she fell into his chest, the chest of one of the men who had tried to take advantage of her and she began shaking violently. The panic in her bones so intense that she couldn’t even think anymore. His arms were tight around her, an embrace, and she didn’t expect how tender his hands were on her body even though he had just slaughtered five men and gone so far as to rip the face off one. She immediately felt the rage leave his body but she could not stop herself from shaking.


She was not afraid of him, even if she should have been. Sure, what he did had been gruesome and even unbelievable in a sense, but what those men were going to do to her was equally as disgusting. Her knees gave out, finally, underneath her as she brought them both to the ground slowly. Her hands were still bound behind her back and mouth still gagged, but she buried er face in his shirt and sobbed hysterically into him. Her breathing was too quick, heart pounding painfully fast, and the panic attack had taken over her entirely. So much had just happened. So, so much.


Her words were muffled as she tried to mutter useless pleas for the stranger not to go after Rico. She didn’t want him to die, not after all of this, but she couldn’t see anymore people die right in front of her. Though she was certain, without a doubt, that the stranger would not lay a single finger on her or harm her. Especially by the way he held her, tightly but careful as though he might break her in his hold if he moved the wrong way. Her tears stained his shirt, diluting much of the blood that had caked onto him but she couldn’t manage anything else.


He had saved her. She was safe.


But the sobs still kept coming on like a freight train and she made no move to break free of her binds anymore. Her body was so exhausted and her mind spent.

 

[Atherium]

He held her there, against him, allowing her to release all her anguish through the heartwrenching sobs that she let out. He did not protest when they both fell to the floor, and he did not utter a word. A bloodied hand rested on the back of her head, cradling it and at the same time, filling it with almost dried blood. And just as her, he felt exhausted, spent, worn out, rubbed out like a tire after a long race of drag. The rage has all but evaporated into thin air and along with it, the memories of his previous actions were slowly becoming ghosts that eluded him into fog, much like his every night ordeals. It was all replaced by a dreadful feeling, something that clawed at his innards. The voices were slowly returning as mere echoes in an empty room. All voices except one of them, the poisoned one. It seemed to have retreated, exhausted, back in its cage. Now it was the time of the rational voice to shine.


There is no time to waste. Gather strenght, help her up, pack her things and get the hell out of there. The cops will be flooding the place any moment now, someone must've heard everything or at least the gunshots. You can't risk getting yourself and her caught. Convince her to come with you. The voice spoke as he listened, trying as much not to think of what he has done. Even for him, the idea that he actually fed himself a human face and human flesh was now sickening, and he felt his bile rise up into his throat and threatening to spill on the floor at any moment. However, he was most certain it wouldn't, and so, he returned to listening to the rational voice that he told him he and the girl had to make a run for it. No time to sit around. But he just couldn't bring himself to disturb her from her cries. He wanted to let her relieve herself. While awaiting for her to quiet down, his hands proceeded to fiddling with the ties behind her back, and he eventually set her arms free before moving his hands to remove the rag she was gagged with. He thrown the piece of cloth away and caught her again in a protective embrace. An embrace he so much wished he would've had when he has gone through traumas in his childhood.


He couldn't help but think of how apparently similar their lives were, and also, about how much more tragic they would have turned should he have not had that strange rage fit overwhelm him. He was now almost certain that one wasn't him, at all. Something told him it wasn't him in any way, only a mirror of... a mirror of his self, the reflection of the deeply buried hatred he bore. In his mind, in its darkest corner, something connected Rico and his men to the men in black suits and white coats from his childhood. And he knew how much he fantasized about doing all sorts of horrors to them. Not having the chance, however, left all his thoughts in the stage of nothing but sick, perverted murderous fantasies of an anguished and pained mind. But now he had targets, and he could finally unleash his darkest upon them. And yet, it didn't feel like him. At all.


Time was passing, however, and somewhere in the distance, in the other end of the town, police sirens were already crying. "Shit." He muttered, still stripped of almost all of his energy. "The cops will be here in about 20 minutes. Grab your stuff and let's get the hell out of here. I'll take you at my place until things die down a bit, we can't risk having the police, or Rico, find you. Come on." He spoke encouragingly as he used his leftover strenght to stand, and pull the girl along with him, as he gazed through the small apartment. "There will be time enough to cry later. Grab what you have to and let's make a run for it."

 

[Poe]

The stranger’s arms tightened around her as she cried, letting her cry herself out but it seemed like there was no stopping the hysterics. Instead, she felt his hands come behind her and pull her bindings free before tugging the gag from her mouth. All she could manage was to dive back into his embrace and hold herself there, trying to forget the feeling of the other men with their hands all over her. Maya wasn’t one to lost her cool very often, after all it wasn’t safe for a girl to be sensitive in this part of town but deep down she was all heart and no grit. She’d never lost her faith in humanity, despite what she endured, but tonight pushed that to its limits and that scared her. She never wanted to be that.


But the sirens pulled her out of her hysterics and she knew she couldn't let herself drown in the hurt for much longer. Not here, at least. The stranger (well, he wasn’t much of a stranger now but she still did not know his name…if he even had one) was right when he muttered that she needed to grab her stuff. He picked her up off the floor and managed to get her to her feet, but Maya had not expected herself to still be so shaky, her hands trembling against him as she tried to pull herself together and choke back the sobs. They didn’t have much time. Twenty minutes at most. So with a deep reluctance, she let go of him and nodded, starting for the back room of the apartment — her bedroom. First she threw on a pair of jeans and some shoes, then grabbing an old bag from her closet, she began stuffing it with whatever she could carry. Important things like clothes and her wallet, a file she kept underneath her bed, and an old tattered blanket she still slept with from when she was a kid. She moved to the bathroom to grab her razor and a few other small things. All of it went in the bag and when she managed to finally pull it over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of herself in her mirror.


She was still that scared fifteen year old, carrying the same bag she had run with the first time. And it was then she knew what she had to do. While she has stolen her records from the orphanage, she knew she couldn’t leave this place. There couldn’t be a single reminder of her past anywhere. Nowhere except for her memories. As she walked back out into the living room, she had a lighter between her fingers, and she looked up to the stranger who had done nothing since his bout of insanity but stand by er and act as a force of anchoring for her. Walking over to one of the curtain’s, Maya let the flame dance beneath the fabric until it caught quickly. The shop downstairs was closed today and hardly anyone else lived in this building. By the time police got here, they would be able to put it out, but not before it destroyed whatever evidence was left behind.


Without a word, Maya let the stranger take her hand and lead her from the apartment, her body still shaking from the ordeal to the point where her tank top was still shifted a little bit over her bra, and she really looked like a mess but she couldn’t bring herself to care. It was only when they were a few blocks away and she could make out the warm glow of the fire that had engulfed her apartment did she start to register everything that was happening. She’d lost everything, again.


But she couldn’t let it break her this time, because last time it nearly killed her.


So she tightened her grip on his hand and followed him through the alleyways towards where his apartment was in Daunton. Maybe once they were there, she would learn how to breathe again because it was getting so hard.

 

[Atherium]

The moment she set fire to her own apartment was the moment when he woke up from his daydreaming. How long has he been waiting for her? He couldn't tell. He only heard the rustling and ruffling in the whole apartment as she frantically searched for things to stuff in her backpack. He yet hoped it wouldn't be too much, his apartment was full enough of crap he probably didn't even need. In the time she was away from him, searching for her things, he couldn't help but think about Rico, again. He knew this was not even by far over, and that the criminal underlord would be back with more ammo, and heavier. But why was he feeling so content now, that he has convinced the girl to come with him? Why did he, despite the hell of a situation they both found themselves in, feel like he was going to accomplish the best thing ever? Oh, you damned fool, you're neck deep in shit and all you are happy about is that a piece of pussy is coming along with you. Grow up, kid, a newfound voice spoke in his head, making him now question his own sanity even further. Something was really strange about this voice. It sounded so... familiar. That sarcasm, that stingy way of remarking things. It was all too known for him, but he couldn't understand where from.


The panic button was pressed in his mind as he sensed the smell of smoke from the curtain that has been set ablaze, and the first reaction he had was widen his eyes and take a look at what she had just done. The rest came, however, naturally, as he suddenly found himself grabbing her hand and walking her out, all while smoke rose from the apartment window and the fire bursted like a wild creature unleashed from its cage in the basement. For the most part of the way, he only held her hand and walked. Hell, he just now realized that without even thinking, he led her down through the strangest alleys of the town. The backstreets that no sane person would walk, not even in the middle of the day. The police sirens were joined by firetruck ones, and later on, by ambulances. Some even rushed on the street that was just on the other side of the blocks behind which they walked. If anyone would happen to jump in their face and see that the girl was bathed in blood and looking as if she just rose from the grave...


Fortunately, minutes later they found themselves walking down the street that led to the dirty ghetto block where the man lived. Their luck was not as big, and so, they were greeted with strange gazes by the usual kids that sat their asses around the place, smoking crack and injecting all sorts of shit into their veins for fun. Fucked up as they were, the teens seemed to not even give a damn about the girl that looked like she just took a bath in blood and innards. "Got a spare coin, homie?" A dark skinned youngster asked the stranger, inoffensively, but receiving nothing but a short gaze. The two were quick to enter the building that smelled just a bit better than a dumpster. His apartment was just on the first floor. Just as they stopped by the door, he noticed the oh so familiar black envelope greeting him as if it was an old, but so unwelcome acquaintance. Bending down, he picked it up and slid it into a pocket, feeling with his hand the dollar bills that it contained. The rest of the payment for his previous job that brought him, and the girl, in the current situation, and probably the next assignment.


Unlocking the door, he pushed it open, only now realising how bad his apartment looked. It was the usual mess of a bachelor's apartment, but it was amplified by the lack of care that characterized him. Beer cans thrown around aimlessly, the same dirty sink filled with stained dishes left there since forgotten times, a bedroom full of clothes, dirty as well as clean, thrown all around the place, but the worst part of it all were the numerous words written on the walls, in his worst moments of loneliness and of torment. His way of relieving it all. "Pain." "Agony." "Hatred." "Fuck you all!" "Fuck this world!". It was all a chaos and a cacophony of words that these dirty walls were stained with, forever. And he just now realised that this was the first girl he'd brought in, and that just now, he felt ashamed of the way his home looked. If he could bury himself in this moment, he gladly would. His face became red and he all but looked away, not eager to meet her gaze.


"Oh, well..." He said as he closed the door behind them. "This is it. Not much to look at, unfortunately, but it's all i can offer, and that pimp of yours or whatever the fuck he was better stay away from these place, else i'll hang him from the fucking balcony." He growled, masking his embarassment with a faked anger.