Midnight.
The witching hour. It was the time when the night was the darkest. The time when instinct takes over and send Prey huddle in their burrows, silent and watchful, holding their breaths as the hunter passed. It's an instinct that all prey are born with. That fight or flight instinct. That need to survive the night so that they can spawn as much offspring as they can. Survival instinct was something that the humans forgot a long time ago.
They also forgot about the Monsters that call the darkness home.
Nikita leaned against the brick wall. She wore a non-descript black hoodie with the hood pulled low enough to cover her face. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her grungy black jeans, and a pair of earbuds were in her ears. She had a scuffed, worn black hiking boot propped up on the building behind her. Sometimes, she would bob her head, absorbed in the music's beat and oblivious to her surroundings. To the normal observer, she was simply one of the forgotten misfits of the street. A runaway teen, a child orphaned by the war against the masked soldiers, or even from a family that had been made homeless since the quakes rocked the city. To others..to the monsters that walk among the darkness, she was prey.
Tony Deli and his brother Paul were walking down the street, keeping their eyes open for any business opportunities that they might chance upon. They had just left the east end of the Glades and Paul was in a foul mood. They had hoped that they could find a treasure in all of the junk that this part of the city had become. All they managed to find were a few forgotten cases of off brand cigarettes and a hand full of costume jewelry. Their boss was NOT going to be happy. Paul was in the middle of raging when Tony slapped his brother in the shoulder and silently nodded towards the building across the street.
"Might make the boss in a better mood." Tony suggested to his brother, "give us the second chance that those bastard masked duche bags ruined the other night."
Paul didn't answer initially, his eyes skimmed over the girl. "Kinda skinny." He complained. "Might not fetch too much on the market."
Tony met his gaze. "Better then returning to the boss empty handed."
He slowly released his breath, his mind already going over every scenario. Worst outcome. Those Masked fuckers will send them to jail. The best outcome is she might be young enough to score the boss some big money. He nods slowly. "Ok, but make this quick."
Nikita sighed lightly and pushed off the wall. She had been hanging around in one place way too long. She really needed to find food but the Soup Kitchen had already closed and she wasn't spending the night in some church and listen to some old guy dribble on about some imaginary man that might "save" her. She raised her head and stepped from the shadows. The hood slid back slightly, revealing a glimpse of sun kissed skin and long, moon pale hair. She reached up and tucked a loose strand behind her ears, revealing scavenged white ear pods in her ear. "Don't Fear the Reaper" was playing in her ear as she walked. Nikita was fond of all types of music but the songs from the previous generations were her favorite.
Pink Floyd, Blue Oyster Cult, the Beatles, the Yardbirds...the list could go on.
"What ya listenin too?" The voice asked as a rather large man stepped in front of her. Nikita pulled up short, startled by their appearance, fear in her eyes. She didn't answer, she just turned to bolt. Standing behind her, was another man who closely resembled the first. He grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise it and reached up to remove on of the Buds. "Don't fear the Reaper? Fitting." He drops the bud on the street and crushes it with his shoe. "Death would be a blessing. " He smiled and the dim streetlight glinted off a gold tooth.
Paul still kept her arm in a tight hold, partially to scare the girl and partially because he REALLY wanted some fun. Scared girls were always fun. He reached up and pushed back the hood. "Well, well, well...look at you. " He roughly spun her around, his free had grasping her jaw. "We found our treasure, Tony."
The girl looked to be about 11 or 12 with stunning forest greet eyes and hair so pale it was almost silver-white. There was something that made the girl look...exotic...but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was.
"P.. p...please? Just let me go." Her voice quivered and her eyes shined with unshed tears.
"Sorry, sweetheart." He released her and run a finger along her jawline. "Can't do that. We have someone who would like to meet you.."
Tony gave her an evil grin . "I hope you like to travel ..I hear Arabia is hot this time of year. " He laughed at his own joke.
"n...n...no!" The girl started to struggle against the hands that were holding her. Tony walked over to her, his eyes roaming over her for a second before he hit her. One shot. That was all it took for the girl to get knocked out. "This one better learn how to take a punch pretty quick. I hear that some of the Boss' buyers like to play rough."
Paul didn't say anything, he just picked the girl up and slung her over his shoulder. She weighed almost nothing. He nodded to his brother and they started walking down the street.
# # # # # # #
Nikita groaned lightly, pain throbbing through her head. She tried to reach up and touch the sore spot on her temple as her vision began to clear but she couldn't. Her hands were tied to the arms of a chair. Panic and fear shivered through her as she tried to fight the bindings. "HELP!" She looked around the room as much as she could. She was seated in the middle of a large empty cement room, a single light blub above her. "PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP!" Her voice echoed back to her. Tears wet her cheeks as she tried to pull her hands free. "HELP!"
"Screaming won't help" A rich, cultured voice slid over her. A thick Russian accent made his voice exotic. "No one will hear you." He stepped into the small circle of light. "No help will come...But you can scream all you like." He reached over and tried to grab her jaw. When his finger got close enough, Nikita bit his hand."
The man screamed and reared his injured hand back. He struck her across the face with such force that the chair fell over backwards, slamming her into the concrete floor. "I will have no more of that." He snarled in anger as he brought his foot down on her leg. She screamed in pain the strike shattered her knee. The man bent over and dug his fingers into the flesh of her jaw and cheek, jerking her hear around to look at him. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND!."
He expected pain and fear to be reflected in her gaze, but there was none. Her eyes were bright and clear, feral even. She smiled at him, revealing the tips of sharp thick canines. "Crystal" Confusion crossed his features for an instant. The moment of hesitation was all she needed. Snapping the wooden arm of the chair, she swung upwards, slamming the wood into the side of his face. The man stumbled backwards, gripping the side of his head. Nikita pulled the rope off her arms and legs and stood. Instead of running, she flexed her cramp muscles, twisting her neck from side to side until she heard a pop. As she turned her eyes to him, a feral smile spread. Her gaze bore into him as she took a step forward, the shattered kneecap already healed.
"Impossible..." The man's voice was almost a whisper, full of disbelief.
Nikita met the man's eyes as she took a step forward. "Pyter Vladisoff," Her voice was strong and clear as she spoke, no sign of fear or pain in her eyes. Nikita switched to perfect Russian. "Aleksandr Ivanov wished for me to inform you that he no longer needs your help." She meets his eyes with her green feral ones. "Your employment is there for Terminated."
"No.." This time it was Pyter that fear took hold of. "NO!" He turned, running into the darkness. Nikita pulled the remaining ear bud from her ear, listening to the darkness. She grinned to herself before picking up a piece of the broken chair and shattering the light bulb, plunging the entire room in darkness. Silence descended.
Then, somewhere in the darkness, Pyter screamed.