Voices

This is pointless.

You’re the one that made the fuss in the first place.

I thought we would have more fun, though. They always said this was dangerous, but how? Where are the monsters? The murderers? The rapists? The kidnappers?

Searching for a fight is exactly how you get us into easily avoidable trouble you know.

It is not my fault if she can’t take a punch.

“I sure as hell can!”

Silence followed, eyes from inside turning to the windows glaring forward. She knew better than to talk to them aloud, especially in the streets. They can’t afford to attract unnecessary attention, and crazy never goes unnoticed.

Both of you quiet down. We have to keep our guard up.

What the hell do you think is going to happen? We’ve walked these streets a thousand times.

But people change when the darkness comes, or so we’ve been told. I wanted proof.

The pale sliver of moon above them was much too weak to penetrate the thick black shroud they ventured in. Their heavy footfalls were the only sound of the night; no cicadas clicking in the grass, nor a breeze to lift their pale hair. Still, there was a coil inside their chest while they navigated blindly along their journey. The blackness pulsated warmly against their bare arms, caressing with a thousand soft fingers. It watched them from all sides, yet there were no eyes when they turned towards the piercing stares.

Don’t go getting jumpy on me now. We can’t afford the time it takes to flinch if the stories are true.

I thought you said this was pointless?

Would you both shut up for a second, we’re being followed!

As if on cue, the abrupt silence from within was met by a shuffle. They held their breath, but instead of fear, there was an easy smirk pulling at their lips. A liquid filled cough told them it was a man, and the darkness shifted to allow him to come closer. The eyes from within were excited, the eyes surrounding them were cold. This is what the darkness does.

What was that though? A metalic sigh that sang through the silence; the shroud shivered with anticipation.

Was that a knife?

Are you truly surprised?

No.

Taking in a deep, steadying breath, they closed their dark eyes and waited until warm breath brushed against their neck, sending wisps of fair hair passed their cheek. Cold grey steal bit into their throat but they did not flinch. All around them, the living ink was vibrating, humming with excitement, begging for its dinner. The first drop of blood was the attacker’s first mistake. The sliced artery was his second.

Now they’re grinning and they’re excited too and this is the part that the darkness had been waiting for, but they demand its patience instead.

They didn’t turn around. He realized something was wrong though. They hadn’t screamed. They’re not fighting. They were hardly affected by the wash of crimson spilling to the cement at their feet. The darkness, confused as well, remained still and waited, despite its hunger.

What do we taste like again? Shall we let him find out, or greedily keep it to ourselves?

They raise their hand up, touching the blood with a delicate finger. He noted with dazed confusion that the wound had already started to seal itself. They’re hand was shaking as they drew the crimson mess into their mouth, cleaning the digit with a soft pink tongue.

Their eyes were draining in color, becoming milk white orbs that the darkness shuttered to behold. They stared ahead with a deviant grin that was too wide, pulling at the skin in their cheeks like a demented doll. Slowly, they turned.

I think he’s hungry.

I think he’s starving.

Don’t do this, please. I can’t handle another one. Not like this.

“Tsk tsk,” it was both a response inward, as well as a message aloud to the stunned assailant they were leaning into, lightly brushing his cheek with their nose.

The blood on their tongue shot out at his open, terrified mouth. Just a blurr of crimson but he couldn’t move in time and a moment later fell limp to the cement. A long, thin spike of solidified red stone peered through at the back of his throat. It tore his wind pipe and snapped his neck to make its way out.

Gently smiling at the corpse smothering in greedy black ink, their face contorted back into its original beauty. They whistled a low tune, holding their right hand out while they continued their journey, brushing their fingers through the rushing blackness that passed. Only two were able to enjoy the wash of copper on the air.

You two… you’re monsters.

Maniacal laughter rang through the night.

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