Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Fantasy

The buildings rose so high they seemed to be reaching for the heavens. Low floating clouds concealed the tops of the taller ones, birds roosted on their roofs. This town was immense compared to the last one, a massive ocean of grey stone and glass.

He had considered the last town painfully loud but in this place the noise level was incredible. Machines everywhere, people scurrying around like ants all day and all night, it seemed like they never rested.

What was more, despite their numbers, people seemed to be more isolated than ever before. They seemed to live hunched over small metal devices tapping on glass screens. When they weren't tapping they had the devices to their ear and were chattering like monkeys about thing he didn't understand.

As things stood, he didn't have time to even attempt to understand. He was on the run. He had been feeding when they discovered him. He was astonished that he had been found in a place as vast as this. He had been cautious, moving like a shadow and covering his tracks expertly.

None of that mattered now. He was trying to outmanoeuvre five assailants and he was running wounded. The weapons they possessed were unlike anything he had encountered before. They shot projectiles which seemed specifically tailored to take out those who were like him.

He needed a way to disappear, he was an expert in vanishing from sight, however in these excessively lit streets it was close to impossible, especially with a wounded leg. His only saving grace was that even when wounded he was still faster than his pursuers.

His leg was bleeding out heavily, the wound was not healing as it should. He had to find a place to hide, deal with the wound before it slowed him too much. Just ahead he spotted a narrow alley. It was well lit but that could be dealt with.

He swerved sharply, darting down the side street as fast as his injury allowed. It was a dead end, but that was not a problem to him. Without missing a beat, he leapt at the nearest wall, vaulting off it and climbing high enough to smash the light overhead.

Glass rained down as he descended, tinkling around him like glassy chimes. He landed by a split bag of trash, from which he fished out two glass bottles. Taking aim, he launched one after the other in quick succession, smashing out the remaining two lights, plunging the alley into almost perfect darkness, filled with deep shadows.

Not wanting to waste time he retreated into the darkness, tearing a long strip off the shirt he was wearing and tied it around the wound. It should stem the bleed at least, allowing him to turn the situation around before his pursuers know what happened.

Footsteps approached the darkened alley, he sank lower into the shadows, watching as his pursuers ran into the alley blindly. They froze half way down, glancing in all directions. They reeked of fear, anxiety... In the darkness their bravery melted away revealing their innermost selves.

As silently as a shadow he manoeuvred behind them, blocking their escape. Slowly he straightened up, a deep, threatening growl rising in his throat. His pursuers turned to look at him, too frightened to raise their weapons now they were at a disadvantage.

He could see in the dark, they could not. He chuckled coldly, his voice growing deeper, more feral. His body grew and altered in shape, the clothes ripped apart and fell from his frame, exposing armour which grew with him as he returned to his true form.

His black eyes fixated on his pursuers, burning with sadistic relish. The hunters have become the hunted. Their eyes couldn't track his movements; they didn't have time to scream or defend themselves.

Their bodies fell to the ground, decimated and spraying blood in all directions. He stood there admiring his handiwork, frustrated frustrated with how things turned out. Yet another delay. Now he had to conceal this mess, find new attire and probably move on to another town.

Back to square one. All these setbacks were making it ever less likely that he would find the one he wanted. None the less he would continue searching until the last possible moment. Kicking one of the corpses, he spat at the ground in frustration.

As soon as he had finished hiding these he would make a move. He would heal long the way. Giving up was not an option.