To Hunt the Hunters

[genedrift]

... and in the streets, the children cried, the lovers cried, and the poets dreamed...

Grass green pants wrapped around the legs of the man as he stood in the way of the small gust of wind, a torrent of hair flailing behind his shoulders. Those black tips slapped against his back, though making no apparent sound--only allowing the moans of those who had died could be heard, or maybe that was just the wind? Few leafs shook in the wind as the branches swayed back and forth, threatening to snap and take their leave. A choking sound seemed to rise from the ground as the souls of the already died cried for their freedom to the pearly gates of Heaven.

I thought I heard you laughing, I thought I heard you screaming...

Pale lips parted, small particles of breath being caught in the air, transforming into small droplets of white mist. Dark eyes roamed over the open plains of the desolate city, taking in their surrounding fully, one could never be too careful. The pink muscle that lay behind his lips twitched and ran over his lips as his Spanish accented speech poured from his lips. "A place is only dangerous if you make it dangerous... Right Father?" With a turn to the side, he seemed to smile up at the dark, cold sky; pleading with it to make everything go away. Haired skull turning slightly to face the building he stood before again, a sigh escaped his lips.

"Well, I've might as well, everyone around here needs a place to sleep," pausing for a moment, he stared at the gloom filled, majority broken, windows, "even if it's the most dangerous place one can sleep." The sole of his boot came down upon the cracked cement below, the burnt remains of a car to his right. Doors stood ajar as he neared, the darkness of the newly found sanctuary seemed to hold an eerie glow to it. Shadowy fingers reached out and seemed to grip at his clothing, pulling him forward into its loving grasp. Shoulders rose and fell as he followed the dark fingers back into their home, his hand now resting on the butt of a large flashlight.

Cold air entered his lung as he took a deep breath, soon after the heated air being expelled from his lips. "Hello, is anyone here?" Those words seemed to bounce back and forth, from wall to wall, mimicking the sentence over and over again in a mocking manner. "Damned echoes..." Black boots pushed small pieces of rock to the side as he pulled the flashlight from a secure holster. A click entered the cooled air as the light flooded the floor in front of him, small fragments of dust flowing through the air in a ghost-like motion.

I see of line of cars, and they're all panted black.

[lucy]

Spectral outline of a lithe girl, standing with her back against a wall. Long dark locks lay upon her left shoulder, coiling in soft spirals reaching just past her breasts. Hand were down near her waist, right hand reached into her own holster, fingers slowly closing one by one to clasp her gun.

And what was she doing in here? Lurking in the shadows, looking for any others of course. This lonelyness had engulfed her, mind telling her strange stories. Hunger had ceased a while ago, viens lay starved on her wrists and her white complexion vivid in the darkness.

She remained quite still, his light causing her dark eyes to contract partially closed in sensativity. The echos of this man, ringing in her ears the screaming silence and dying moans had stopped and everything seemed to return back to normal, almost.

Finding her voice, she uttered a simple hello? into the dark wondering if he would hear her.

[Alyn]

Why is it that ever time she goes searching for silence she finds others, others that are searcing for a soul to cling to? Well sorry m'love but she has a soul no more, it was stolen from her. It was taken at a young age, beaten from her small frail body. Her eyes once vivid deep blue and full of emotion and sparkle, they were now dead, empty of any warmpth and full of hate. She had seen too much, experienced too much, felt too much, and hated to much to ever go back. Nothing was like it was, nothing would ever return her childhood, nothing would ever return her child.

Leather boots clunked slightly on the ground. Long black trench coat billowed out behind her revealing what lay beneath. A leather full body suit, tight fitting every one of her fine but at the moment overly thin curves. The zipper was not zipped al lthe way up revealing some clevage but not too much, they were more of a hinderance when fighting. She wore a belt around her hips that lay slant, the lower side having a holster and a gun in it. Around her thigh was a guarder belt that helt a bunch of throwing knives in it, and her dagger was hidden away. In her right had was the sheath of her reverse blade katana, the weapon still inside.

She slipped with ease through the ajared door and entered now walking silently. She would not let her boots make a sound on the floor. When she saw the light she moved slower. Her steps were more caucious and careful. She then stopped. She breathed silently and then stopped breathing. She needed to cough, she HAD to cough. She swallowed hard trying to get rid of the tickle but only made it worse. She decided fine if she was going to cough she would be prepared for what coudl happen next. She slid the blade fro mtis sheath with only the slightest of sounds, knowing they could probably hear, and then she coughed. She coughed several times then gasped falling silent again. Her katana was held in her left had as her small frame stood ready. Her deep blue orbs watched the light and its source carefully.