On the bench he sat, waiting, watching.
Hurriedly the passers-by crossed his vision, but he was only interested in one
type, he saw only one. With eerie rigidness he waited, his glazed
eyes paying no homage to the glimmer of the moonlight’s reflections. Slowly he
lifted his scarred arm, gripping the cold metal shape in his jacket pocket.
Satisfied with its reassured presence, he returned his hand to its place;
folded nicely with the other upon his lap.
Steadily the crowds diminished and left the
streets lonely and still, minus only the seemingly ominous presence of a man on
a bench.
He sat
unfazed by the growing desolation of the dark, he waited. He had only been in
the muffled silence for about an hour or three, when she came. As she
approached the pool of light that seemed to drown the streetlight it flowed
from, it was then her fate was set.
With a silent swiftness he arose; drawn by the
victim and its scent. Without so much as a blink, he soon fell into identical
step with the delicate creature. His heart pace accelerated to a rate much
higher than it had been while he had waited; he watched with a greater
intensity, but the glaze over his eyes remained. As they walked and as he
watched, his senses absorbed every aspect of his surroundings, and of his prey.
As if sensing the burnished stare drilling her
open, she shivered heavily under the chill of the night, while her augural
follower did not.
With almost inhuman steadiness, his pace
accelerated in potent silence. The unconsented duo continued in their soundless
scene with no one but the streets for an audience.
Coming closer, his veins tensed and bulged, his
senses fed off her trembling aura. The alley was approaching; they were drawing
into his lair.
A final acceleration of footsteps and a swift
transfer of movement from pocket to throat brought the swallow of the darkness,
and they were gone.
