Topic: The Game

Connor O'Neil

Date: 2011-02-10 16:37 EST
Eyes from the edge darkness watch. They watch every move made by their target. The clothing, the habits, the laughter and the tears. Part of being a predator means not being seen. But, what if the predator hides in plain sight' Blends in, becomes a friend, and eventually, maybe even a lover.

Stalking the streets of the Marketplace, standing out while blending in. The eyes bright, the senses keen. Baked goods. Perfumes. Sweat. Greed. Lust. Everything that could possibly ride on the back of the wind, no matter how light, was picked out and sampled. The one most savored however, was fear. To a predator, fear was a rush. A rush that could never be induced by chemical, or drink. Something close to sticking your tongue to a battery, while free falling from an airplane at night, but even that isn't the proper description. Fear was sought after, fear was craved. Fear would even help keep control of situations, that would otherwise be out of hand.

The streets held as many people as there were scents, and that is where he found a suitable subject. The man was large, like a city bus kind of large. Not fat, that would not do, but...wide. Thick through the chest and arms. His neck barely seen through the bulge of muscle from shoulder to shoulder. The look of a hardened man. One that is used to working for next to nothing, just for that next drink and meager meal. Scars ran through ink that ran the lengths of forearms as big as some men's thighs. His face, showed weathered skin, stretched over wide jaw, centered with a crooked nose. Eyes like glittering sapphire, tinted with anger bordering madness.

He had been all too eager to take the predator up on offer of meal and a promise of payment, regardless if he took the job or not. It was a winning situation for just another one of life's losers. He ate hungrily while listening to the other's proposition, nodding along, or grunting affirmative replies. The accord had been struck, sealed with a handshake, and payment made, with the promise of pain, should he back down from said agreement.

The plan was simple. So simple, in fact, that even a thick bodied behemoth of an uneducated man could understand. The prey would travel the streets, and more than likely get lost in her thoughts, as she always seemed to do. The men would keep contact through subtle gestures. The nod, meant to start with the plan, everything was set. The head shake meant, the time was not right, wait for another evening. The Alley was even chosen with care. Far enough from businesses and homes, but close enough to have the illusion of safety. Now, the predator would wait. The game was afoot.