zg_shadows | I'm still not sure about this one so alterations may occur

Chaos and destruction.

That was the path laid out behind the Anarch, shattering the peace of the quiet city. Peaceful was such a rare trait to be found in these dark night and yet somehow Oxford had managed to achieve it. That was why even this relatively small wave of devastation had caused some measure of fear and panic in it’s residents. One resident, however, did not hold much sway with fear or panic. She was angry about this disruption to her city.

This was a threat to be crushed.

Which was why she had chased the creature halfway across the city, barely pausing long enough for a breath she had not needed in many a year… no time for a quick bite. The animosity held towards her prey drove her onwards with near rabid obsession. No-one disrespected her territory and got away wit hit. There was nothing personal in it… that was just the way it was. Oxford was strong. Oxford was stable. Those were constants. Fixed. Anything or anyone who tried to disrupt that would vanish.

Lots of people vanish.

She’d lost count of how many had been swallowed by the night. It didn’t really matter, they were simply problems which had needed dealing with. The city had a problem, she dealt with it. Simple.

Somehow things never ended up being as simple as the statement made it out to be. Simple wasn’t perching on a beam in a church and waiting for the humans to disappear so she could continue the chase. For a moment she studied the children as they finished singing and wondered what future nights might hold for them. Nearly two dozen of them had formed the ranks of the choir, boys and girls both in their mid-teens, and now laughed and jostled heading on to their respective homes.

Such a straightforward little sound but with such depth and meaning. A rare thing to reach her ears. For a second she failed to realise the hall was now empty as thoughts drifted to the only person who really managed to make her laugh. Then duty resettled her focus and with a brief scan she dropped to the floor. Thick stone paving made for a heavy landing but something else overrode anything else. A slight metallic odour drifted on the light breeze. There was such a small trace that likely as not she’d have missed it most nights, it was only the deep hunger welling up like a tidal wave within her that made the truth so obvious.

Behind the pulpit lay a pretty girl with jet black hair and a creamy complexion, barely a mark blemished that skin… but she could see where the bruise would appear around the neck. There was a tiny dribble of blood along one finger stemming from a nail, broken when the child had tried to fend of her attacker no doubt. A touch hesitantly she reached down to touch the dead cheek softly.

Behind her came the sound of footstep and before she could react a voice called out to her. Deep and masculine ‘abomination’ he cried, even had the old priest not spotted her features before she had not the blood in her body to even attempt to look human. The had managed to claw herself away from the brink of Wassail but it would be a far thing yet before she regained any colour.

Turning around she tried to tell him “Father, it’s not what you think.” But he waved his arms and started chanting in some strange language she assumed could be Latin. A moment of contemplation was all the time she had before the sensation that her entire body was aflame.

Without a backward glance she fled out into the night yet it wasn’t until she was beyond the churchyard that things started to return to normal. Glancing down upon her skin from the safe haven of a nearby rooftop, she was appalled to find it blistered and cracked. Only the hardiness of her body had saved her from suffering serious damage. A priest who could do such was a grave threat indeed.

A soft sigh escaped her lips but she hardened her resolve, and her tone, as soon as she activated a speed dial on her phone. The call was answered nearly instantly.

“It’s me… someone’s about to have an accident.”

Less than five minutes passed before she was back on her hunt. After all a terror still threatened her turf… and the trail was still warm.

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