Every night it's the same. Every night I see there faces, half visible under neon lights. Bodies move and sway to the rhythm of a tune I can't hear. Eyes close to feel the music, to feel the emotions of the crowd. Something I know I can't do. Something drives me forward, pushing gently through the crowd towards an unseen point. I feel skin brush mine, bodies jostle into me but still I push onwards. Somehow I know what comes next but it still shocks me to my core. I see the man, standing alone in the crowd, looking out of place in his expensive suit. His back is to a large support beam. No chance of approaching from behind. Why am I thinking this I ask myself. Why am I planning this man's death? He's done nothing to me. And then it hits me. No, he hasn't done anything to me. He's just in the way, an obstacle I must over come.
He doesn't see me; I blend with any crowd. I know this. Why do I know this? What part of me is sure I won't be seen as I approach the man? I can hear the music now but the tune is meaningless to me. It's the beat that takes me; brings the beast to the front of my mind. The music brings out of me the part that can kill, that must kill. I feel it rising inside me, growing stronger with each passing second as I near the target. Why is he the target now? He was a man moments ago. Now he's just a target.
He sees me but it's too late for him. My fist is now against his stomach. I've punched him. Then I see it; the trickle of blood from the side of his mouth. A frown forms on his face as he looks at me and then the life fades from his eyes. I move the body to a nearby chair and sit him upright. I pull my fist away from his body and find myself staring at three shining metal claws covered in blood. I look at them for a moment and then they retract into my fist. Pain sears through my arm but I ignore it. Although it's not actually pain is it? It's the memory of pain.
I turn and scan the room. Now I know why this man had chosen this spot. From here I can see my goal. A small group of men are gathered at the far side of the room in a small booth. Either side are two men, both dressed the same, both in expensive suits, both with that professional detachment. Bodyguards.
I move round the support beam before they see me and blend with the crowd again. No one has noticed my attack on the lone guard. That suits me just fine. Soon they will panic and I know I must be finished before that happens.
I move round the edge of the room looking for the next target. Then I see him; another lone guard with an earpiece. This adds another element to this task, an element I hadn't counted on. He's much more careless than the last, he's turned his back on me. I take the opportunity and attack him from behind. My left hand slips over his mouth and before he can react I slam the claws from my right up under his ribs and pierce his heart. I feel his body shudder under the impact but he's dead before he even started to shake. I rest his body casually in a chair against the wall but take his radio and earpiece and connect myself to it.
I hear their voices. I know they're speaking another language but I recognise it. Chinese; more specifically Cantonese with a local element to it. Not only do I recognise it, I know I can understand it. What confuses me even more is I know I can speak it.
The voice on the other end tells me that they've lost contact with one of the guards but can see him on the cameras. They're ordering someone to go and check on him. I must move quickly, my time is running out. Soon they'll discover they're downed guard and realise my objective.
I push through the crowd again, moving faster this time. I send one or two unsteady dancers tumbling away from me and barely acknowledge their protests as I move closer. The two guards see me and reach inside their jackets, stepping forward as they do so. One of them speaks.
"Hey!" he says "No closer"
He doesn't speak with a local tongue. He speaks like military. How do I know this? Before I can answer that question I see myself attacking the two men. They don't stand a chance as my claws rip into their chests. I hear a scream behind me; someone in the crowd has seen my attack. Only seconds left now. I lunge past the two bodies and block the cubicle the three Chinese men are sitting in. A look of terror passes over each of their faces. Each fears their death at my hands but I've only come for one of them. I look him in the eyes and for a moment there is an understanding between killer and victim. A quick flick of my right wrist cuts his throat.
Blood sprays everywhere. I hit the jugular alright.