The Deamon Inside of Me.
Rorilyn Blackraven
Wolf Girl's Pack Productions
Bunny Studios
She had no clue that this would happen. Something so small that anyone else would have missed it. An action that seemed normal but it was a dead give away for someone like her. A simple "arm around the girl's shoulder". The hair on her neck bristled.
She was sitting on the patio of the coffee shop, looking in, watching. She felt her jaw clench with anger as she watched the man, probably a few years older than herself, physically showing what he really was. Too bad the humans were too stupid to understand what his body language meant.
Deamons. Male Deamons especially. She thought bitterly.
Her name that she went by in the human world was Alice Vane. So much more different than her borne name. But that was something that she gave to no one. Maybe one day someone would learn it, through torturous means or not, but they may learn it. That day was not today though.
She got tired of watching the male place his claim on his prey. Sure, it was her job to make sure that the Deamons didn't do too much damage. She still hated watching such things. She swore that the men did what they did just to show off to her and piss her off at the same time.
Alice was always the most easily offended and easily ticked off Deamon. She hated what most of her kind did, hated how they acted. Just overall hated them. Yet here she was, working for the high council, keeping fucking tabs on them.
Huffing through her nose, she dipped her head low; a sign towards the male that she acknowledged his claim and was leaving him be. She wanted to get as far away from everyone as possible. She just wanted to go home and sleep the rest of this wretched day away. Why did none of the Deamons act as such? Why did they keep a morning schedule when she was so used to sleeping during the light hours and being awake during the dark hours? Stupid day-walkers.
It wasn't that far to her home, in the ghettos of Stockholm in the north-western part of Sweden, but knowing the area she could have taken the long way if she wanted to. Could have delayed her arrival back to her darkened and cold home. But she didn't. There wasn't a lot that she strayed from. She stuck to her routine. A routine that she would never dare to break. If she did, then it may just cost her her sanity.
She slipped in the door just a little past 3 in the afternoon. If the peace kept, then she might, might, get a good 3 hour nap before she could have her fun tonight. Nights were her own. She would do whatever she wanted. Unless of course, a certain someone interfered with her sleep.
She didn't want to think of him right now. More than likely it would end up giving her a migraine. Not that Deamons got migraines. In fact, they never got sick at all. She was lucky to sneeze at allergies. Deamons were a rare sort. No sickness, no disease, no nothing. They were almost the perfect creature. Almost. They had one flaw, their namesake.
She stripped off her shirt and pants, plopping onto her bed, face down, ready for a peaceful sleep. Not that she would get what she wanted. Her phone went off as soon as her mind started to drift into unconsciousness. The ring tone "Buried Alive" by Avenged Sevenfold started to replay in her head after it had played once. She didn't even need to guess who it was. The Council. "What do you guys want now?" She grumbled softly into the mic.
"We need you to track someone... I think you can guess who." She heard the unanimous voices of the Deamons ring. "He needs to be tracked down, and tagged. Or gotten rid of. Whichever you prefer." The evil chuckling sent shivers down her neck and spine.
Alice sighed softly. Goddamn it Kyle. "Yes Council." She was glad that they had ignored her grumbles. She shut her phone and growled inwardly at the fact that she had to go after the man that had practically been her best friend and protector and partner in crime for as long as she could remember. She would rather do this herself than let the execution squad handle it.
Walking over to her closet, she pulled out her black leather coat and her tight black jeans with silver chains that hung from various places. It was her most threatening look and it was the only thing that allowed her to sneak around and kill other Deamons with none of the blood showing. She just wished that this assignment was on someone that she could get her anger out on, not her best friend.
And she knew exactly where he was.