Flickering lights shine across the street dousing everyone in a dull rythmic orange glow . High sided armoured vehicles are parked at jagged angles on the rain soaked tarmac. Authorative people in long black coats and wide brim hats shout, issuing orders to their subordinates trying to regain a sense of order from the chaos within the building. One man rips his battered green helmet off and vomits into a storm drain, all the colour gone from his face.
I smile inwardly and flick the stub of the cigarette out of my hand and turn away from my scene. The heat is making the rain water steam, rising upward it clings to the building as if trying to contain what lies within it. I walk away down a litter strewn alleyway and no one bars my way as is only proper. Catching my coat on a metal railing I stoop to untangle it and a newspaper clipping catches my eye. "Family of Seven Die in Downtown Blaze", I see the message as clear as day. Standing back to my full hight I look into the shadows under a rusting iron fire escape and stretch out my arm. Yanip comes to my call and steps in line beside me. I turn my face to his. "Come little one, there is work to be done". As is his way he does not reply.
Our journey through the city would be long and so we would need sustainance. Yanip gathered food and water and brought them to me. He was my most loyal and favoured and I cared for him greatly. His methods of gathering were not known to me but his choice of meal was impeccable.
Resting for a brief period in the belly of a great building to avoid the ceaseless rain I was approached by a number of men. Their garb was unusual and they peaked my attention. Yanip retreated to the darkness as is his way. Each brandished a knife and demanded Unis. Truthfully I told them I possessed none and they should ask someone else. They persisted and became violent. The man wearing a skull face mask and a leather coat stepped forward. I smiled as he told me I was going to die. His taunts lay dead in his throat now and his friends went into shock as I dealt with him. Rooted to the spot as they were I merely had to walk between them and deal with each accordingly. The last I left for Yanip. He likes to impress me with his creativity and this was one of his more inspired displays.
Again the armoured vehicles came and the scene repeated itself once more. Different people were examining Yanips display and I could hear the tell tale retch of vomiting. Yanip's work cannot be appreciated by all. A group of people arrived with a camera, a logo of an eye on their jackets. I turned away from this and decided to travel further below ground to avoid more confrontations. Yanip joined me by my side and we ventured downwards.
Looking at the newspaper clipping I can see there are pieces missing and that to complete this puzzle the other peices must be found. Knowing that if I look I will find them, I continue my journey.
He reeled out of the room. Bile catching in his throat as his body reacted to the scene within the room. Unclasping his helmet and throwing it to the floor, he began gulping in big draughts of air but the copper taste of blood and rotting flesh were heavy in the air. Vomiting he fell to his knees, discarding his browbeater as he dropped. For several long minutes he retched uncontrollably untill he was dry heaving and could bring up no-more.
Eventually he composed himself enough to grab his helmet and speak to the rest of the squad. "I've found the room, but it's bad. Get a clean up crew and no cameras this time."
Looking back inside he tried to make sense of what had happened.
The room was a normal scene of a downtown apartment. TV churning out mindless news, a report on Street Fashion with Fionna Rotcher. Couch, table, chairs, coffee cans, everything looked normal. The scene was shattered by the sight of the tennant. Suspended in the air, Skilton had originally thought he'd found another hanging so had moved in to ID the victim. Turning him round he realised what had happened. Dozens of steel hooks gripped the man through his mouth. As he stared he realised that each hook punched it's way into his gums above his tooth line top and emerged through the lower gumline forcing his lips into a bloody wide grin. Not a single tooth was out of place. His naked body was bruised in such a way that suggested a struggle. His mouth was clamped shut by the hooks and excrement smeared the ground under where he hung. His hands were bound behind his back by another dozen or so spikes. Each one barbed and covered in ripped flesh where he had obviously tried to struggle.
Skilton hadn't noticed the buzzing. In his daze he had failed to take note of anything aside from the sight that greeted him. Knocked out of his stupor he came to see the multitude of flies crawling in out out of the bloated nostrills.
That was the point his mind forced him out of the room.The remaining Green Men came to the room and waited outside whilst talking to the first one to enter. There was some commotion and one started shouting again. I turned towards Yanip waiting patiently beside me. 'Four nights till they found this one' I thought. They do not come down here all too often.
Yanip strained to listen to sounds of approval from the audience his creation had gathered. He listened and motioned to the scene. Someone else had come this time. A thin man in a skin suit.
He had an aura around him that caught my eye, almost angel like he commanded respect from the Green Men. His eyes glowed with an inner light and he had no pupils or eyrises for me to read. He brought with him a foul creature that stood head and shoulders above all others present. A mouth filled with sharp teeth and long thick strandy hair. A tail stuck out behind him and was swaying with anticipation. Clad in an armour daubed with sigils and signs he looked an impresive foe. Yanip strained at my side wanting to make him a peice of his art.
This was a new occurrence. The usual case was for the Green Men to arrive and then clean up the room. I studied them in more detail. Clipped words came to me and I caught one I recognised "killer". They branded me a killer! These must be the hunters and I will give them a fine chase indeed. Stroking Yanips head I promised him he could have his art but the angel was mine.
I continue my search, deeper and deeper into this hellish world I travel. The rains have ceased now I am underground although evidence of their presence is all around me. I wade through waist deep water and Yanip ever close to me skips along the floating debri. I find myself looking at him and wondering why he chooses to follow and serve me as he does. His loyalty is beyond question and he proves worthy company although he rarely speaks. His obsession with creating 'art' is a mystery to myself. I choose to bring him with me as he is a usefull ally. Yanip awoke with me and I will search for his origin as I now search for mine.
I turn at a cross road and a strange creature is standing in the water in front of me. A tall dog-skull faced creature with horns. I have not seen this creature before although I realise now that most things are unfriendly. It turns towards me and raises crude club held in both hands. Rags draped accross it indicate a kind of primitive intelligence. It issues a bestial roar and tenses to attack and then stops. It sniffs the air and then starts to back away slowly. Yanip starts to move towards it but for once I refrain him. Let it live - I see the message it gives to me.
This world is impregnated with the image of it's creator. I am beginning to see the reason I awoke here. There is a familiar taste to the air, as if something is flowing around everyone. The Angel awoke this thought within me when I saw him for the first time.
The water level starts to rise, filth from an entire sector flows around me and I seek refuge on higher ground. The place I choose has a grill that looks out onto an area of ground inhabited by people who are as removed from this place as I am. They shuffle round in grey rags, scabs and sores line their faces and their hair lies in dank strips. The stench of decay and ages of depression saturates the area and I am forced to smile.
I rested there for a while. Watching the inhabitants go about there business. Yanip grew restless and went to find some sport. Slowly I became aware of a presence in this underground warren. The Angel and it's Daemon ally were nearby. I decided to stay and wait for them. I would see how they hunt me.
I lay there intrigued by my surroundings and I was lost in a reverie for a short while failing to notice that the Angel had come closer. It was moving with stealth and the Deamon was trying to emulate it's master with similar caution. I felt a strange shimmer in the air and realised that the Angel was manipulating the surroundings, tugging at the ether and inspecting it as he moved. He spoke in a clipped harsh language that I had touble understanding.
It's message was clear enough when it motioned to my resting place. I wished to see what this creature was capable of so I tore the grill from it's holding and threw myself to the floor not 100 yards from the pair. The inhabitatnts scattered as I landed amongst them. In a glorious display I picked one mewling infant off the ground and hurled him into a concrete post ten full yards away. His back broke with a resounding crack and his blood splashed onto the debris littered floor and I struggled to keep myself from laying waste to the others that fled from me.
The Daemon charged.
I rushed to meet it.
Comments appreciated.
CATCH YA
GAV
reality bites
but that's what life is