Post by Nikolas Underwood on Dec 7, 2012 22:40:44 GMT -6
The night was damp and fog hung in the deserted streets heavily, cloaking everything in mystery and suspense. He listened, leaned up against an old lamp post, ears strained for the slightest sound. He was ready to eat, the craving unbearable. He gritted his teeth loudly, anxiously. It was too quiet tonight, surely a survivor was travelling, surely someone was out when they were not supposed to be. Nikolas waited, a boogeyman in the shadows. Once again in the world, there was a reason to be scared of the dark.
The sounds of foot steps grew louder. He could see the figure approaching and he crouched slightly, ready to pounce. He licked his lips greedily, willing the being to come closer, just a little closer, dearest. All the better to see you.
The human shone the beam from a flashlight back and forth, but it made vision even worse in the fog. A moment later, Nik pounced, teeth digging into the human's neck viciously. A guttural scream suddenly filled the night, loud and rich. He smirked as he chomped through tendons and then arteries, blood gushing forth, darkening his sweater. He drank greedily, blood dripping down his chin in rivers. He licked his lips sloppily. A quick bite to the wind pipe silenced the screams. Once again, the street fell silent, like a blanket being laid down over a bed.
The plagued was preoccupied in eating, his entire focus on drinking, then slowly chewing and eating. It didn't take him long to make a dent in the corpse, less than two hours to work an arm and part of the torso to the bone. He pulled back, the heart had stopped beating and the blood was getting cold. He lost interest. If it wasn't warm, it wasn't worth it.
"Late last night and the night before,
Tommyknockers, Tommyknockers
Knocking at the door.
I want to go out,
But don't know if I can,
I'm so afraid of the Tommyknocker man...."
Nik sing-songed as he wiped the blood from his dripping lips. He looked up and around. He didn't see anyone, but he could hear them. Lips pulled back from teeth in a large snarl. He hated to be interrupted. A hand dropped to the pistol tucked into the back of his pants and he pulled it out, flicking off the safety.
