A/N: So, yeah. . Decided to upload this one-shot thing. And now I'll upload something else in a few minutes. Bad internet right now really screws me over.
It was quiet, unearthly quiet, especially because this was the city and there was supposed to be people bustling this way and that, even at the ungodly hour of two in the morning.
The gleaming city lights in this deathly still place seemed to only accentuate the loneliness. Amongst this haunt of the city was a complete wreckage of the street and the buildings on this street. The only thing that stood out from this wreckage was a single crushed vending machine.
It was half-in a seedy old pub, the wall around the broken machine crumbling and barely holding together. It had been thrown with such force that the cement underneath had cracked on impact, much of it turning to dust and blowing away in the wind.
The metal itself was twisted, glass completely shattered inwards, gleaming sparkles in the neon lights. Cans of different pops were either still inside the machine, severely jumbled around and all crushed so that the liquid inside had seeped out, or scattered on the concrete, spilling their juices onto the walkpath.
It was an excrutiatingly melancholy sight. As if the entire world had become deserted after some mutated monster had gone on a rampage through this small street.
Only one person dared to tread in the wake of the monster, steps feather-light, towards the demolished machine.
A somber mood was over this man with raven hair and ruby-red eyes as he silently stood in front of the mechanical ruin, hand going out to barely brush against the twisted metal, sadness shining in his eyes.
"You poor, poor thing," Orihara Izaya softly said, lightly running his fingers over the machine's broken frame.
"There you were, just doing what you were created to do... and then that monster picked you up... You didn't even do anything to him... Just picked you up and tossed you..."
A small frown wound it's way onto the man's face as he stared intently, as though straining to hear something. He lightly touched the broken bits of glass, acute pain informing him they were sharp enough to cut him, as they had done so.
He pulled his hand back to stare at the cut, watching bright red liquid swell out. Frown more prominent now, he stretched his hand out over the broken machine, tilting it to let the pooling blood drip into its desolated organs.
"Another victim of that awful beast, who destroys everything without reason. You can't get revenge on him for your wrongful death, but I can and will."
Hand pulling back to rest at his side, eyes searching the ground, a small smile forms on his face. Bending down, he picked up a can from inside the machine, the glass cutting into his arm a little.
"Even in your dying moments you made sure to save one of my favorites..." speaking softer than before, the fur-coated man looked at the other cans, noting the one in his hand was the only one untouched by the violence that had wrecked everything.
"I hear your plea, and I will kill that monster. Harming so many of you every day... I will stop him from ever harming another again." Bowing respectfully towards the wreckage, he slowly turned around and started away.
He clutched the can in his hands, keeping his head down as he walked back along the ghost street. In the reflected light of the city lights, his blood-red eyes gleamed with an almost hellish fire, promising vengeance for the destruction a monster left in its wake.
"That thing will never hurt anyone again."
A/N: Uh, I totally meant to make that humorous. Guess I failed. XD Oh well, Izaya wanted to make it like this, so I had to do what he wanted me to.