The Unseen

No human soul was on the streets. Nobody. The storm rendered them to crawl back to their hideouts. And thanking the ego rearing gangs of the night’s, the street lamps hung in failures shame as they were unable to light up. Vandalism is a true blessing for him and the cockroaches. Not all those cockroaches. Some will die as some already did. Right now he was on his fifth kill.

He pulled back its long slack arms. The creature screeched unable to free itself. He strengthen his grip and the arms broke free. The creature only screeched louder.

He threw away the dismantled arms. From the point of their unatachment fumed coal black smoke surrounding him. It only annoyed him. His insane eyes grew bigger and he lunged a kick on the creatures neck. It squealed-nobody hears any of it. Except for him.

A kick again. That shut the creature up. There was no more of ear wrenching squeel but only gurgles from a broken windpipe.

Dead. He looked down at the dying creature waiting. It took the creature a few moments to truly stop moving. Then it started flaking away. Thats his favourite part. He always kills to see it happen.

Crude black smoke issued from every crack in the body and the rest of it was disintegrating away into dusts and then dissolving into the air around him. His fifth kill. He will look for more again. The shadow creatures slither out in the rain like worms. He hates those slimy worms. He loves these creatures more. Only for the kill of it. Nothing more. Otherwise they are horrendous beings dragging themselves on the street.

The one he just killed was seven feet long but weak. Always weak. He had a temptation for the bigger kill. He targeted for the very big ones now. Fifteen feet long. He will get it.

He turned around for his next prey. He can sense them as much as they can sense cold. He had not much to do. He lived by the profession of a truck driver during the weekend’s. And the other days, he moves around carts and boxes. In between, he punches the scawny youths who think they rule the city just because they got a certain hair style. The youths fight him back, always getting injured as a result. Adrenaline runs high in his blood. And around these creatures, it boils.

The city streets were spookily deserted. None. No where. This was just what he needed. He can strangle more of these obscenities without anyone’s mental inquiry. Not that anyone would spare a moment out of their hectic schedule just to replenish his strange activity. The city police has worse people under their radar. He was not one of them.

When the last of the ashen flakes disappeared into nothing, he started walking away keeping his eyes for any shift in darkness and light. The darkness is the obvious route to follow. The crawling creatures despise light. But they have known to defend and evade too. They will crunch their scrawny bodies in the illuminated areas to avoid his hungry eyes. The more they persist to hide themselves, the more his hunger grows and the more determined he becomes. That determination finally end him with a catch.

He passed around two human less blocks without avail. None were in sight. But for how long? They’ll always have to come out soon.

His ears picked up heavy breathing near by. Like the parting gasps of a huge animal. A dying animal.

He didn’t like the sound. He preferred his preys fresh and bustling with life. He avoids the senile ones despite how tall and long they are in length. Body length isn’t all that makes a kill worthwhile. There needs to be a presence of resistance, atleast to feel like he had spend some of his energy. To his dismay, the creatures are so brittle, at times all he did was press a thumb through their disgustingly bulging wide eyes to kill them. He had a need for the game to last longer.

He walked faster in the dashing rain. The sky lighting up in numerous jolts in the rather dark side of these streets. His spine shivered from the cold. The aggrieved creature will not stay aggrieved for long for the chill was wrapping. If the breathings dont mean exhaustion then they can only mean one other thing: words.

He sprinted forward in the open street. Words indeed-the heavy breaths struggling to form words like raspy whispers. He can hear it clearly. The human voice he hears next made him stunt on his trail.

“I am happy your finally out.”

He crept closer, avoiding exposure. “It must have been hard...” The female voice spoke, it’s tone brushed with kindness. “I can’t imagine how you do it. How any of you do it.” The voice stopped cold. Then it spoke softly, every word filled with respect. “If it was me...I’d never survive for a week. I’d get wrecked by other creatures. Yet look at you!” The voice exclaimed.

“Your like the size of a three storey building! That’s amazing achievement!”

The size of three storey building. He must desyroy it.

The creature talked in its chalky voice. “....Thankyou...”

Then a pause.

“Why? I didn’t do much. I just tampered with the circuit box to switch off the lamps. Every other kid does the same for fun.”

He listened. Another one. Another one like him was sitting there in the thudding rain only to strike conversation with one of those creatures. The discovery replied him with confusing emotion. He never met another like him. He never even talked to the shadow children.

He considered his options. He’ll have to break two necks.