When was the last time you felt alone?
So alone that it seemed as if, everything you looked at, everyone you turned too, and the entire colour in the world, seemingly dripped away in fear. All the people you tried to get help from would run in fear, would scream in terror, and would disappear. It wasn't what you'd want, but it would happen regardless. What if, when you came to realise that this solemn emptiness that you were forced to call the norm, was all you'd ever feel. Nothing would change. You'd always tower over everyone, scaring them. Hurting them.
What if, you made a use of this solidarity? You didn't like the fact people would leave you, so you made it your entertainment in the quietness of being alone, to hunt down those that ran from you, and to keep them as your own. A collection. Of those who you hated? No. Of those you respect? Not quite. More like, the ones you used to know; the people you thought could care.
Silent, elegant and cold, I dragged myself through a barren place. It felt warm to me, but I knew the sombre eerie aura that I seemed to bleed would fill this place with a cold and consuming feel. I stared down at a woman, her bedraggled blond hair soaked with her own blood, plastered against her face and slicking to her features; an open wide mouth, equally wide eyes, and bright white teeth. She seemed not to notice the blood dripping from her hair slipping into her mouth and dripping onto her tongue. She was fixated on me. The ripped skin on her hands tearing and slipping against the floorboards as she tried to shuffle back. To get away. She couldn't though. There were bodies in the way.
I stood still, solidly looking down at the screaming and struggling woman with the same distant glare that I'd given all other of my victims. The same treatment as any. I am the cleansing doctor, and they are the pained subjects who I treat for being in the wrong. I smiled. Internally, since I have no features to show my emotions; unlike this lady. She was bleating the emotion of fear, of pain.
Cocking my head slightly, I hunched to her level. Her head wrenched back as she tried to keep distance, her legs flailing out at me as she tried to keep her own. It was not going to work, she only managed to get more blood soaked into that lovely, oh so pretty, white dress of hers. She wasn't going to get a chance to wear that thing again, considering it was torn and bloody.
"Get away! Don't! No!" She hollered, fumbling her way across the dead bodies loitering the room, until she'd pushed herself into the corner. She sunk there, to her knees, and stared wide-eyed up at me. Yes, woman. Keep staring. You'll go insane, sure, but at least you'll get a good look at your killer before you join the poor people you happily use as your floor.
She cowered, covering her face now. Not staring at me. That wasn't good enough, she had to look. She had to look!
One of my arms mechanically shot forward, wrapping around her wrist and wrenching her towards me; she gagged at the sudden movement and then started to flail. Almost like a fish would, as I held her in the air. It was entertaining, yes, but she still was not looking at my face. Was there something wrong?
"Womannn…" I growled through my exterior, the sound echoing off our surroundings. I know she heard me. She stopped squirming and stared up at me. Good. Eye contact. Content.
"D-Don't…" She said, quiet, pleading, "Don't do this, I'll do anything! I swear, just-"
A tendril shot forward, piercing through her abdomen like a knife through butter. She silenced instantly, gagging again as more of her blood came spluttering up through her throat and down onto the floor she was being held above. She made a few rasping breaths before wriggling a little in pain, then becoming silent. I removed my tendril and stared at her still body.
It was back. The silence. I let the woman fall to the floor with the other victims of my beautiful collection, and stood straight. I didn't allow my head to touch the ceiling, but it was almost there. This victim was moderately satisfying, but she didn't listen. Just like all the others. Just like every single other person I tried to get to listen, who only end up being scared, and who always drove me to the edge… so they have to die. They need too.
I dragged my arms and legs slowly as I moved silently to the exit of the small secluded building. Only when I was outside in the chill air, surrounded by thin, leafless trees, bordering touching the moon, did I stretch. I stood tall, to the height I preferred, and inhaled. The air was thick with the stink of my kills, only the faintest soothing wisps of cold night air got to my lungs. I looked down and blinked.
Time for another try. I need to see if the next person will be different. If not; then my collection grows in number.
With a solemn growl, I turned towards the town which I used as my grounds; I looked quietly through the trees and watched as I saw people run. They saw the moon setting and were retreating to their homes. They knew of me, but they knew not of my purpose. That's why I had to show them, and I shall show them again and again mercilessly until they understand.
Without any more notice, I slowly drifted towards the town.