Welcome to Gaia! ::

This is where I, The AnAngrySissy, will grace this subforum with the presence of Stranger, a new kind of vigilante, a new kind of murderer, a new kind of life. This is a continuing work of mine, that I shall continue until I see fit to end it.

Part one:
Rain

The rain continues to fall even in the parts of this city where most people dare not tread. Ten. I heard the voices from below speak of a murderer who calls himself "The predator". There is only one predator. The bell above me tolls once, and I stand to ready myself, and by the tenth, I am gone. Into the rain I tread, water and filth splash my boots as I land on the once stone pathway that lead to the large once triumphant doorway to the once beautiful church. I can see it as it was before. So bright, flowers and white. As beautiful in a funeral as in a wedding. But all things become defiled by time. The only things untouched by time are people who can not get lower. The other is rain. I turn to the back of the falling building, and cross over a low area. The rain collects here as well. Upon the other side I walk further into the industrial division of the city. These buildings, with dark bricks and darker smoke rising from them, they fill my mind with the only thought that fills my mind now. What is going to be next, and how will I react and evolve?
Voices, I hide. Anger and rage, such malicious feelings so unwisely spent at each other. From my camoflauged vantage point on the rain-dreanched asphalt, I listen for them argue in length, sometimes moving almost standing on me. I can hear the larger one, the male, I can hear his pulse as it quickens and flows. A symphony of life and motion fill my ears, and I almost miss the end of it. They seemed to be calming down. Then with a turn and return, the female turns to pick up a depleted bottle and smash it against the soft tissue of her partner's neck. A spectacular display of blood and rain, glass and death. I am amazed. Eleven. What's next amazes me, as I begin to stand a man walks up to the deceased. I think to hide again, but before I can move the man picks up a broken piece of the glass and sheers a portion of flesh of the corpse's flesh and devours it. Where there is predators, there are prey. And wherever there is prey, there is scavengers. It disgusts me that the city so powerfull, leaves the people to starve and reveal the worse parts of human nature. Gluttony.
I climb the building to my right, silent and unnoticed by the man below. As I summit the building, I see the fullfilled creature leave, with the victim's armflesh gone. I walk atop the roofs and finally I reach my destination. An iron encaged building, decrepid and dying from age and rust. Rain washes away the dead, yet this remains. The building contains such vitality not shown by the exterior. Sounds and lights, veins and nerves. The writhing head of a snake that hasn't yet met death and his coldembrace. Lightning flash, and I stand on rooftop no more. Climbing down with the rain, slowly and darker than visible. I now climb on top of the rooftop of my destination. The roof is composed of the same iron scales as the side, but smaller. Upon releasing one of these plates, my face is met with smoke and a smell of alchohal fire. A signal of distaste on my face, and I rise. Every second counts.
Eleven fifty. I crawl inside this living swelling, and onto a steel bar. It's brothers and sisters web the building, but avoid one area. One area is taken by an enourmous pendulum, swinging back and forth in a perfect example of a second. These people below, swarms of them. All of them I see as a mockery and an insult to me. My mark moreso. The man sitting in the chair in front of the pendulum, behind the instruments that stood before the swarm of pulsing people. Such a loud and lively sound. The man, the "predator", smock in his position with his black wet hair behind him and his similar garb the same. It showed a sign of a leader, with everything behind him. Onto the pendulum I climb, downward further with every second. The seconds reached fifty as I landed. Five meters between him and my next footprint. Every second a stride closer, and at the chime of the bell twelve, the leader is gone and his black throne is empty. A simple puncture to his throat is the only aid I needed to take his body up the forty meters of pendulum and to the rooftop again.
As he wakes up in panic, I have already began the bleeding process and the crimson force is draining down the roof. The bloodloss is always accomanied by tears and attempted screams of horror, stopped by the opening in his neck. His slit arms grab at his neck, and I nod to his query of silence. Then to his eyes, again I nod to show this is real. Lastly, I ask him with no words heard through the rain and his frenzy: What happens next? This is useless, in physical, but he needs to find peace in his life and end in what way he sees fit. I lift his head and pour a solution down his throat. A lighter switch and the flame ignites. I push his personal pyre down back into the hole and watch as it falls onto the swarm, and it's obvious panic. Later, more flames erupt and spread in the crowd. No one leaves. The doors are locked and the walls are iron. I can't risk more terrors spreading from this place, so they burn. I have seen enough.
One. Upon revisiting of the eaten, I see the body nearly gone, obviously a sign that the vultures have eaten all that they could tear. Once last still tried to take what's part of the face and fingers. It should not disturb you that he died, his death brought more use than his life did. Now he can't harm anyone else. It reminds me of a poem I heard. The birds can fall, but the fish can't fly. What's done at all, when the usefull hide?