02-01-2015, 08:54 PM
Malik had turned his gaze to the darkened ring, the smells of blood and sweat still in the air, the sharp iron tang lingering in the back of his throat. The darkness washed over him. In the distance, he could see the backs of patrons and heard their cheers and calls at another ring. It pulled at him. He felt his muscles hum with the slow burn of energy, the hunger to do violence. This was life at its most basic. Primal. The brutal solutions to living equations.
He turned his head to find the woman at the table gazing at him. At his notice she did not look away. Instead she continued her watch. A small smile formed on his lips. After a moment, she turned back to the man that was so thoroughly trapped in her web.
Thus did she cast the lure. But Malik would not bite for casual lust. Prey that considered themselves the hunter were never what they seemed, the prize never so simple. The poor sod at the table with her would learn that the hard way.
Malik was willing to play games when it amused him. Of the outcome, he was not overly concerned. There were always ways to manipulate the game. And the players. A gentle nudge; a casual look; an offhand jest. The electricity still hummed its siren call in his chest. He inhaled, the taste of the dark air invigorating the black spaces of his soul. Yes, he was in the mood to play.
He turned his gaze back to the ring in the distance though still quite aware of the woman.
He turned his head to find the woman at the table gazing at him. At his notice she did not look away. Instead she continued her watch. A small smile formed on his lips. After a moment, she turned back to the man that was so thoroughly trapped in her web.
Thus did she cast the lure. But Malik would not bite for casual lust. Prey that considered themselves the hunter were never what they seemed, the prize never so simple. The poor sod at the table with her would learn that the hard way.
Malik was willing to play games when it amused him. Of the outcome, he was not overly concerned. There were always ways to manipulate the game. And the players. A gentle nudge; a casual look; an offhand jest. The electricity still hummed its siren call in his chest. He inhaled, the taste of the dark air invigorating the black spaces of his soul. Yes, he was in the mood to play.
He turned his gaze back to the ring in the distance though still quite aware of the woman.