This is a sequel to my other story, "Pathways". If you don't want to be totally confused, I recommend you read it first. As always, constructive criticism is welcome.
Disclaimer: Escaflowne and its characters do not belong to me.
Destinations
Prologue:
The man hid in the darkness behind the building, crouching among the garbage cans. The rancid smell emanating from them didn't faze him. His smell was much worse. In fact, even as disgusting as it was, the garbage's odor stirred hunger pains. Ignoring the cramps in his stomach, he ducked down further as the headlights of car slid over the wall behind him. Sirens pierced the night, covering the sound of his harsh breathing. The mechanical wailing faded and he lurched to his feet again, struggling to continue his journey. Light from a nearby window played across his face and he squinted in the electric glare.
The man straightened, stiffening his resolve. He would not go back to the torment. He would die first. At least death was honorable. What they were doing to him was degrading and disgusting, a violation of nature. Creeping along the shadows of the building, he looked for a place to spend the night. He ignored the looks the people on the street were giving him. He was getting used to the strangeness in which he was treated. But he knew the people to be cowards. If he stared back, challenged them in any way, he knew they would scatter.
"Sheep." he muttered to himself, turning down another alley. And he was the wolf. Hunting down his prey.
Disclaimer: Escaflowne and its characters do not belong to me.
Destinations
Prologue:
The man hid in the darkness behind the building, crouching among the garbage cans. The rancid smell emanating from them didn't faze him. His smell was much worse. In fact, even as disgusting as it was, the garbage's odor stirred hunger pains. Ignoring the cramps in his stomach, he ducked down further as the headlights of car slid over the wall behind him. Sirens pierced the night, covering the sound of his harsh breathing. The mechanical wailing faded and he lurched to his feet again, struggling to continue his journey. Light from a nearby window played across his face and he squinted in the electric glare.
The man straightened, stiffening his resolve. He would not go back to the torment. He would die first. At least death was honorable. What they were doing to him was degrading and disgusting, a violation of nature. Creeping along the shadows of the building, he looked for a place to spend the night. He ignored the looks the people on the street were giving him. He was getting used to the strangeness in which he was treated. But he knew the people to be cowards. If he stared back, challenged them in any way, he knew they would scatter.
"Sheep." he muttered to himself, turning down another alley. And he was the wolf. Hunting down his prey.