12-23-2017, 02:04 AM
The darkness resolved itself into shadowed light. The force flowed through Malik and he sent tendrils of air down in front of him, trip wires, seeking the slightest vibration of air from movement or words. Nothing. The man was not near.
He let his feelers spread our like a web as he floated down the hall, the shadows still cloaking him and billowing around him. He saw artifacts of a grocery store, boxes and pallets and moveable shelving, the occasional empty box. No rotting food to indicate the source of the hint of rot he smelled.
Carefully he continued in what must have been the warehouse until he found the front area. The mess was more pronounced and now his tendrils picked up movememt and the scratching of claws on old tile and concrete and metal shelving. The only light seemed to come from the high windows but bybthis time his rods and cones were drinking in every photon of light they could collect. The amplification of the force might as well have been floodlights. Up one aisle and down the other he walked. He knew the man was not here. But he wanted to know every knook and cranny of this place, every possible resident that might present itself to him this most sacred of nights.
The methodical search pattern was complete and he now stood near the back of the store. Specialty counters. He flicked an eye at one but the other was his destination. He was a bloodhound and the trail had led him here.
He slipped around the counter toward the back. He heart had been beating im excitement. Now it raced. He knew this smell. Memories of tunnels and another room came to him and for a moment he paused, the orgiastic pleasure of the experience overwhelming him. Justice in its purest form had visited that night. Every act, every degradation, every humiliation had been fed back perfectly. In slow realization, the man had turned from brutalizer to mewling victim. Mkst importantly, he knew it. That was key. Merely killing, even painfully, was not the point They had to confess. They had to beg forgiveness. They had to pleas for absolution. They had tonacknowledgr their sin. Only then could he find release.
And he had. His groin was tight with anticipation. Malik hungered for his revenge. He would cleanse the earth, one at a time. Defile and then purge them from the ranks of the living. Of all humans on thid planet, he had earned this right.
He snapped from his reverie. Only seconds had passed. He stifled his giddyness and anticipation and pushed through the plastic dividers. It was darker back here. He paused, trying to resolve everything.
He could see the outline of a door. He reached out and his gloved hand felt solid metal. A handle. Carefully he pulled it and the door swung open. The smell hit him. Disgust and joy vied for ascendancy. He turned and watched the door, his tendrils snaking out. Nothing. Carefully he wove a single thread of fire, just a spark. He didnt want the blindness. Just enough light.
Before him hung five bodies. All were women in their mid to late 20s. All petitie. All brunette. Like the woman in the restaurant. Textbook. The brutality varied. Some wore bruising around the throats that looked like fingers. Others what might have be cords or scarves. All of them were ripped open in the abdomen.
Something else. The blood seemed to have flown downward. Their thighs were covered with it. He wasnt sure what that meant. He needed to study this.
Gently he began to probe with tendrils of the power.
He let his feelers spread our like a web as he floated down the hall, the shadows still cloaking him and billowing around him. He saw artifacts of a grocery store, boxes and pallets and moveable shelving, the occasional empty box. No rotting food to indicate the source of the hint of rot he smelled.
Carefully he continued in what must have been the warehouse until he found the front area. The mess was more pronounced and now his tendrils picked up movememt and the scratching of claws on old tile and concrete and metal shelving. The only light seemed to come from the high windows but bybthis time his rods and cones were drinking in every photon of light they could collect. The amplification of the force might as well have been floodlights. Up one aisle and down the other he walked. He knew the man was not here. But he wanted to know every knook and cranny of this place, every possible resident that might present itself to him this most sacred of nights.
The methodical search pattern was complete and he now stood near the back of the store. Specialty counters. He flicked an eye at one but the other was his destination. He was a bloodhound and the trail had led him here.
He slipped around the counter toward the back. He heart had been beating im excitement. Now it raced. He knew this smell. Memories of tunnels and another room came to him and for a moment he paused, the orgiastic pleasure of the experience overwhelming him. Justice in its purest form had visited that night. Every act, every degradation, every humiliation had been fed back perfectly. In slow realization, the man had turned from brutalizer to mewling victim. Mkst importantly, he knew it. That was key. Merely killing, even painfully, was not the point They had to confess. They had to beg forgiveness. They had to pleas for absolution. They had tonacknowledgr their sin. Only then could he find release.
And he had. His groin was tight with anticipation. Malik hungered for his revenge. He would cleanse the earth, one at a time. Defile and then purge them from the ranks of the living. Of all humans on thid planet, he had earned this right.
He snapped from his reverie. Only seconds had passed. He stifled his giddyness and anticipation and pushed through the plastic dividers. It was darker back here. He paused, trying to resolve everything.
He could see the outline of a door. He reached out and his gloved hand felt solid metal. A handle. Carefully he pulled it and the door swung open. The smell hit him. Disgust and joy vied for ascendancy. He turned and watched the door, his tendrils snaking out. Nothing. Carefully he wove a single thread of fire, just a spark. He didnt want the blindness. Just enough light.
Before him hung five bodies. All were women in their mid to late 20s. All petitie. All brunette. Like the woman in the restaurant. Textbook. The brutality varied. Some wore bruising around the throats that looked like fingers. Others what might have be cords or scarves. All of them were ripped open in the abdomen.
Something else. The blood seemed to have flown downward. Their thighs were covered with it. He wasnt sure what that meant. He needed to study this.
Gently he began to probe with tendrils of the power.