Tell-Tale Pestilence

Chapter 1: Burn

By: Alice

Look at how swiftly he walked. Quiet as the shadows, his silhouette pooling along the cobblestone harshly; His striking features—That pale complexion, the foul clench of death clinging to his very flesh, and his hair, that gorgeous hair, falling softly in jagged layers, framing his face and his chiseled jaw, tossed along the earth. Moonbeams fell, coy, with its shine onto his very presence. How he reeked of death and murder.

There's a lightening storm

Each and every night

Crashing inside you

Like motorbikes

We toss and turn

Sleep so loud

Grind the teeth in our

Our empty mouths

Our empty…

He was quick—Such killings was a daily routine, which he did not fancy, nor prefer, but needed. He was a young vampire, after all. No more than a few hundred years old. It'd be far much longer before he was old, wise enough to even consider not hunting for purpose, rather than the fear of being unable to feed at all. Live. Oh, how he adored the smell of fresh blood. The sensation burning through his dead veins like a wildfire, the hot feeling on his lips sending chills down his spin. Blood. Their blood.

Vermillion blooming flowers, the petals soothing down the neck, down a wrist, to the cobblestone, flooding the air with its stench, with its wonderful glory. The corpse so softly mutant, tattered and swollen along the ground, void, and sending soft shudders of agony in the stagnant air. Such a beautiful cry of hopelessness. Can you feel it? It's the beating of the night's heart, it cries. It cries for this woman, as the man dabbed away the remnant of this pain flowing from the corner of his ruby lips.

There's a forest fire

Burning bright

Spreading quickly towards

Our last rights

No where to run,

Pointless to hide

Just lay there and scream

Pretending to try

Pretending..

So now what? Was he really up to of disposing the body? Not really. But he was sick of the others claiming him as a "messy killer". He would clean up after himself this time. He would be a good boy. Though, he didn't think she deserved such treatment. She was just a whore, truly. Lived as a tramp, and died as a tramp. An easy meal for a killer such as himself. Would anyone truly care? Not precisely. Oh. There might be one person in this whole damned city who decided to spend his good deed of the day reporting in a murder. And the silvered haired vampire was much more interested in cleaning up after himself than getting knee deep in something dirty such as murder.

She was a very beautiful woman, Riku must admit to that. Her dark hair, such a glossy shade of ebony, tossed over her now pale face, but which one held such a glorious complexion Riku almost felt… attracted. Her dark eyes, those hallows of black, rimmed in such small, but soft lashes. Her body was fair, perhaps a bit tall, but well attended to. It was such a pity to be wasted on a child of the darkness. But, hey. Beggars can't be choosers.

Of course, this would only be one of Riku's meals tonight. He preferred to start with a damsel first—Such tangy, sweet blood to seep onto his lips, those moist lips of his kissing her neck. Then, maybe something with a bit more meat. A young man, maybe. Though the men varied, because of course, he felt attracted to them, he wouldn't play the ages. Strictly a man in his teens—'Twas the most splendid. If Riku had to be a murderer, he might as well enjoy it. And he had, for the past hundreds of years.

Intending to burn

Pretending to fight it

Everyone learns

Faster on fire

Things took a turn

Lost all desire

You live and you burn

You live and you burn

Though now, it was growing harder to kill without being suspected. To get a job at the night. To lock his door, and keep the mischievous children out so they wouldn't stumble upon his coffin, or his black-velvet draped room. And then have to kill those children, of course, was always harmful. Then he'd have these insane, delusional mothers knocking at his door. And he'd have to refuse ever even seeing their children and so on. That was a pain.

With technology and laws and what-not these days, it makes homicide extremely hard. Though his new phone is a splendid option, and he absolutely adores it, it was really become troublesome, this technology. Before, he could get away with almost anything. Everyone walked around as if they had a half a brain and called each other geniuses. But now.. Oh.. Now, was a far different story. Yeah, sure. He'd grown accustomed to it, he'd learned to adjust. But it just wasn't as free anymore. He couldn't just spring from the rooftops, balancing purely on his own wavering excitement and thrills, for there were street lights now.

He couldn't just go out in public anymore. He had to be powdered more severally then ever. The artificial lights dawned upon his cold, ivory flesh far more intense then the dancing candles in the lanterns back a hundred years ago. Now, he had to be careful. People were far more suspicious and vicious to those different. Riku found it sickening in his core. But, alas. He wondered, just how would it be like in the future? He'd probably be caught by then. But, not as quickly if he cleaned up this mess..

Riku disposed of the corpse, lazily and unprofessionally, but it was done. He was satisfied. Hell, he had his meal, he was refreshed. Blood was streaming through his dry veins—Of course, not his blood, not his life support, but he managed. His flesh was a bit more colored, though hardly, and his neon eyes seemed more sadistic and cruel. He pitied the poor boy he'd find himself feeding upon next—Because he was in the mood for a lovely one. A delicate one—Something different, something pure. Aching, desire. He needed it.

This impending doom

Is left deep inside

And it's haunting you

Each and every night

Like starving wolves,

Counting sheep

We close our eyes,

Pretending to sleep

Descending...

He dug his hands deeply into the pockets of his trench coat, the vampire smirked to himself. He could already smell the purity radiating from someone. Someone.. Near. Someone lovely. It was luminous and sweet and craving and Riku needed it. It wasn't blood.. It was something.. Else. Something thrilling, yet, calm. Something which drove every single nerve in Riku's slender body hay-wire, something he needed so badly. He lifted his eyes to scan amongst the many, dirty, filthy faces, and weaved through the crowds, searching dependently for that feeling.

As he flung out his senses, he used it to thread back to the wonderful feeling. Who was illuminating it? He must know. He must claim it. Riku had never felt anything like this before. It was.. Gorgeous. Beautiful. A delicate flower, the sense of a cool breeze. Divine. It was torn from the world, it was vindicated. It was…

A boy.

Like hell, we are anxiously waiting

Like hell burning silently strong

Somehow we fell down by the wayside

And somehow

This Hell is home

No doubt Riku almost double flashed his eyes, just to make sure. But when they did land on the frail one, he knew immediately that was the body emitting the wonderful delight sending chills down Riku's body. The boy was… stunning. This mess of disheveled chocolate hair coated his head smoothly, falling about his heart-shaped face. And how alive the boy looked! Why, life was just pulsing through him! Even his cheeks were tainted with the warmth of his heart, his soul—A pink color. His complexion was rich and bronze, his lips tan with a slight rose.

He had a feminine-figure, which, now, put Riku's victim to shame. His frame was lithe and frail, downright girly almost, and those jeans looked delicious. They were obvious for a young girl's structure, for they gave him curves boys probably shouldn't have. He obviously had some make-up on, though not to much—His eyes were rimmed in a thick black liner, and his lashes were long and soft.

Though, amongst his features, his eyes were by far the most amazing. They were like the ocean, before it was polluted, of course. The foam-skirted waves, the diamonds along the sand, the salted mist tossed into the air—Gems. Gorgeous, gorgeous gems. And as he stared into those eyes, those pure depths, he found himself fancying something. The boy's gingerness. His delicate being. He seemed… Fragile. Like the timid flame in the heavy darkness. As if all the pain and innocence repressed in his heart had become tangible, forming that of which his flesh contained: A tattered soul.

And Riku immediately fell in love with him. He had never heard his voice; he does not know the boy's social structure, his background, his family… Even his name! But he immediately felt tied to him. And, he guessed, some of his thoughts were flung out, for the boy lifted his head curiously, glancing around as he delve into blissful paranoia. Riku couldn't help but laugh a little. He supposed he'd feel a little sheepish too if he felt someone watching him.

Intending to burn

Pretending to fight it

Everyone learns

Faster on fire

Things took a turn

Lost all desire

You live and you burn

You live and you burn

And it only took an instant for the boy took finally look up and lock his ocean eyes with the man's neon ones. Pain facing hope, Cruelty facing fear… Riku felt this all too well. But now, a thought occurred to him. Could he really go on killing this poor, precious beloved of his? Of course not! He knew, very well, he couldn't bring himself to do that. And maybe the thought of the boy living forever with him, by force or choice, flashed in his mind more than once… But he wasn't sure if he could think about that. He barely had time to think at all.

"Umm.." Even the boy's voice was bloody angelic. To Hell with Riku's sense of logic.

"..I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare." He sounded calm, he supposed. Being graceful came so easily—Though now he could may have felt a tinge of ill at ease.

The boy blushed, "Ah.. It's...It's alright. It's happened before." He held out a hand in greeting. Obviously, the boy was naïve, lacking any sense of the real world. Riku could be a murderer, and here he was greeting him like he was his uncle. Oh wait, that's right….

Riku is a murderer.

"I'm Sora Mickale."

"Riku Allure" His voice sounded seductive, but that was natural. He couldn't help himself, especially when he held the boy's hand. It was… velvet. Soft. Supple. He wanted it. He wished he could just jump the boy now and get it over with, but he couldn't. This would have to wait. This would take time. And to start it off…

It was obvious Sora thought it was a normal handshake. But when had Riku Allure ever been normal? He held the boy's fingers and bowed his head, pressing his rose-petal lips to the boy's delicate hand, for a suave kiss, causing Sora to blush. Maybe it was a little too much..?

"I'm sorry, again." Riku shrugged, "I couldn't help myself. Your hand seemed too.. Kissable."

Sora blinked owlishly.

And paused…

And then finally his eyes widened further.

"Molester!"

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