She remembers…
She remembers the first time she saw him.
She had turned down a wrong alley after running from a group of zydrate junkies looking for an easy score off of some chick that had wondered too close looking too nice to be out alone. Already scared enough, she was unprepared to seem him at work in the middle of the alley, busy pulling out some dead mans' stomach. Stifling a scream behind her hand she stumbled back, crouching behind a stinking dumpster back against the grime caking the body dump. The sound of blood splattering the ground and the occasional grunt from the whistling Repo man was the only thing louder than her ragged breathing.
He hadn't seen her, didn't even notice anybody else was there; he was so absorbed with his work. Eventually she calmed down enough when she realized that this bogeyman made real wasn't tearing his way after her to slice her throat and leave her corpse to rot. Inching her way around the corner of the dumpster she peered around the edge curiosity winning over common sense, he wasn't quite as big as people said standing only what looked like 6'2" instead of 6'6". Strong arms cleaved into muscle and moved aside intestine drawing out a sack like prize which he joyfully tossed in a bag in a cooler. Broad shoulders, gravely voice as he thanked his victim for the wonderful time, his steps fluid and predatory, something deep inside her clenched at seeing the blood drip from his weapon of choice as he walked away already calling in the clean up crew.
She watched him leave fascinated by him, by the way the body lay there steam rising from the hot blood. Standing on unsteady heels she tentatively stepped from behind the dumpster and stepped forwards intending to catch a closer look, it was at that time the crew decided show up. Well at least she had plenty of practice running in heels.
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The second time wasn't an accident. She had sent the paper work up to Mister Largo about the most recent person to default on the payment 90 days and need to send out the repo men to collect. It didn't slip past her that on the entry it listed possible locations of the soon to be victim. She made her plans and left as soon as her work let out, headed to one of the three areas the junkie resided. There was a chance she would miss him, or the junkie wouldn't even be there, but there was a decent chance she'd see him again.
She had to see him again; he was there in her mind constantly. The predator moving so effortlessly before her, it was like the stories about giant cats that would hunt in forests, blending like the night. She dreamed of him, nightmare like dreams haunted her as she slept of the hot blood running everywhere, down her naked body as she ran through the streets. A dark shadow chasing her, eyes glowing down side streets watching, the sharp sting of a blade pressed to her sternum and teeth pressed to her neck, her mind explodes in ecstasy when a strong hand molests her left breast. Each night the dream went further, blood and fear paired with pain and pleasure going closer and closer to orgasm but always being a touch away, it was beginning to drive her mad.
She was startled out of her reverie when a skeletal man came shrieking out the door running as his life was probably counting on it. A small smile graced her face as the Repoman came through the door leisurely loping after his prey. It was here she saw his eyes for the first time, cold yes but so happy to be doing his work, it was hard to see what color they were but they were beautiful to her, no matter. She followed after him, this time in softened shoe, quiet like the dead.
This time he had corned this waste of space, useless spark of life, in an alley renown for housing zydrate junkies. That was how she found him; she just went in the opposite direction that everyone else was running from. Some multi-haired junkie tried to stop her, probably from the goodness of his heart; he barely got away blood free. She no longer went out without protection and blades came so sharp these days. Ah alone at last, the screaming was just beginning when she rounded the corner, he had strung him up using the fire escape as a steady place to hang a rope. Arms stretched above his head, he had apparently had tried to kick, for one of his legs was at an odd angle and the other lay limp, it was finally beautiful now in the final throes of life. It's thrashing and screams and moans seem almost sexual in nature as he begs and cries, she could feel herself become wet watching at the entrance of the alley. He didn't even look up, why would he no one pursued the Repoman, no one would dare.
What was wrong with her, it was some one dying before her, yet in this city death was as normal as breathing. It was intoxicating watching him work. She left after it had stopped screaming and the organ was pulled, no sense staying longer than necessary. Besides with the way the city was working these days there would be plenty more opportunities.