Welp. This is interesting.
Hi. My name is Raylin and I'm new here.
By 'new', I mean I've kicked the habit of lurking and finally joined.
Recently, I've started this story and this story warped into this world.
Now, the world's become a universe and I'm afraid I just can't take it anymore.
So, here I am, divulging my universe to you.
Please excuse my vanity for posting this; I just thought it might be interesting...
He was merely a shadow to her. A small glint of light just outside of her field of vision, barely noticable. If she did notice him at all, it hadn't registered with her. He was just another man. That made the man's job easier. He always liked easy things. The less effort he used to get what he wanted, the more he could spend on things that mattered. Like tuning his laser. His laser, which was a small high-frequency model used in surguries, was the most important thing the man owned. He liked it for two reasons: it was effective and precise. It let him carve into things like an artist.
Not to mention it cauterized the flesh.
That meant no blood.
That meant an easy clean-up.
The man had been observed this woman for hours on end. Just under the cover of darkness, he watched her every move. He had covered every possible escape route, every scenario and in every scenario, he killed this woman. The woman in question was a striking lady of thirty-four years. Long black hair that reached the middle of her back. Black mini-jacket, boots, and pants. White fitted shirt that accentuated her hips. Under the gaze of any other man, she would be “sexy”. The man gagged at the thought. Looking at a person as a piece of meat instead of a person didn't compute for him. Never made sense. If they were a piece of meat, what fun would it be to kill them?
Sexy got out of her chair. The man took a step into the light. Was she leaving?
The woman gave her associates hugs and smiles. The man cracked his neck. He never had true friends throughout his life. Except for one. His name was Tragedy and he was no stranger to the man.
Sexy left the bar. The man followed her, keeping his distance. He had gauged it well: it was close enough to follow her but far enough for him to be invisible. She climbed the lightstation stairs and flashed her ID at the screen. A robotic voice called to her, “Have a safe trip, Catherine.”
The man flashed his. “Thank you for taking the lightlift, John.”
The man chuckled as his fake name was repeated to him.
There was a small hissing noise as the lightlift pulled into the station and kneeled. Amplifiers purring under it, Catherine and the man stepped onto the platform along with the other civilians. Once everyone had boarded, a set of lightwave bars surronded the passengers and the amplifiers pushed the lift on its way. The man looked towards Residental District Ten.
Images began to form in his head. A woman of forty years. Family of two. Loving husband.
Residental District Eleven. Young girl. Nineteen. Pregnant.
Residental District Twelve. Elder. A whopping eighty-two years. The man probably did her a favor.
This went on for another ten Districts untill the lift stopped at number twenty-three. Catherine got off. So did the man. As she walked across the platform, the man became interested at the lift schedule, killing time as Catherine got some distance. It would be such an amateur mistake to be caught this early.
She touched ground and the man wheeled around, quick in his stride, eyes locked on her. He couldn't afford to lose her. To lose her was to lose an opportunity. The man hated losing those. Lost in his thoughts, the man continued to tail Catherine. She still hadn't noticed him nor had she even looked back. Did she know what was going to happen to her? Did she already know that he was behind her? She turned a corner and a building came into view. The man smirked, his question so gracefully answered. That building was the reason she wasn't looking back; she figured that she would be safe in there.
The building was a Complex, a Government-built and funded building that excelled in security and peacefulness. In order to enter, one had to have a card specifically made for that Complex. Then, a specific room code stored onto said key. That only got you past the front door. After that, one had to go through the security guard and the card reader in the lightladder. It was perfectly secure. But, when you live in a world where crime is nearly non-existant, security is a false sense of just that. As the woman entered the Complex, the man rushed to the door, grabbing the edge with his foot. Once inside, his eyes immediately went to the security booth.
Empty seat. Typical.
A small bell sounded as the lightladder came down to the floor. “Hold that door!” He said, fake happiness in his voice. Catherine smiled at him in acknowledgment. As the man stepped on the lightladder, he watched her scan her card and press a button. Thirty. “Oh! We live on the same floor!” He lied.
Catherine gave him a wry smile at first, as though she was thinking about something. “Funny. I never saw any movers up there.”
“Nah,” the man assured. “I only had a single box of personals. Whenever I move, I buy new things. Fresh start and all that.”
She nodded in awe. “Do you live with anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Wow. I mean, my mother and I share the cost of things but you don't even have that. You must be rich. Where did you get all that Venus?”
“My parents died.”
Catherine gasped, instantly ashamed. “Oh, I am so sorry. That was so insensitive of me.”
“It's fine,” the man said, trying to end the conversation. He had said too much already. If this wasn't a clean kill, then this woman would have too much information to go on. She might actually go to the Officials. What a day that would be. Law enforcement, back on the streets.
The lightladder glided to a stop and the doors opened on the thirtieth floor. Unsure of what to say, Catherine waved goodbye to the man. The man did the same and as he did, the process almost seemed unnatural to him. He never understood how a simple gesture could fit in social norms. Do this and be normal. Do that and be accepted. Nothing that came from society made sense to the man. The woman began to walk in the opposite direction and a small excitement began to tickle the man. He was so close to satisfying that hunger. That dark pit in his soul that festered and writhed around like some sort of leviathan from the depths.
His thoughts went to the structure of the rooms. Spacious. Lightwave doors. White walls by default. And soundproof walls.
Looking down the hallway, the man watched as the woman unlocked the lock on her door. He moved towards her. Just as he was passing the lightladder doors again, the bell sounded again. The man stopped in his tracks, mind racing. Someone else was coming to this floor. The kill was out of the question now; there was a witness. He couldn't risk running at the woman. All she needed to do was close that door and the man was stuck outside. Out of options, the man decided to wait for the lightladder and walk away. He'd rather abort than get caught.
The lightladder doors opened wide. Out stepped a woman garbed in black and jade-green. She had long green hair with green eyes that matched her hair exactly. Two bangs of the hair fell over each side of her face and had a gold cuff on the end of each. The man took a step back. “You,” he hissed. He heard the fear creep into his voice.
The woman glared at him. “Yes. Me.”
“You won't be able to do it agai-”
A gust of wind cut him off. The man blinked and the woman was on him, fingers pressed against his temples. The man had been in this position before. Staring down certain death. It felt strange to him; maybe because this is what those women felt. The sensation made him feel alive. “Thirteen women in two days,” the woman told him. “I can't let that body count get any higher. You've already killed too many people.”
The man's eyes, wild and without focus, flitted from point to point. “If you reset me, I'll just remember. Maybe not for a long time but I will remember again. Then, I'm going to kill you.”
“No Human can touch me!” The woman yelled, jamming her fingers into the man's head. Blood began to trickle down the man's face from the woman's fingertips. The man kept going.
“Then, just kill me!”
The woman shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I still have hope in you,” she replied. The woman closed her eyes and reached inside of the man's memories. She took a breath and erased all of them. After this process was finished, she removed her fingers from his temples and pushed down on his chest. There was a flash of light and then the man was no more.
All that remained was the woman and a baby she cradled in her arms.
Hi. My name is Raylin and I'm new here.
By 'new', I mean I've kicked the habit of lurking and finally joined.
Recently, I've started this story and this story warped into this world.
Now, the world's become a universe and I'm afraid I just can't take it anymore.
So, here I am, divulging my universe to you.
Please excuse my vanity for posting this; I just thought it might be interesting...
He was merely a shadow to her. A small glint of light just outside of her field of vision, barely noticable. If she did notice him at all, it hadn't registered with her. He was just another man. That made the man's job easier. He always liked easy things. The less effort he used to get what he wanted, the more he could spend on things that mattered. Like tuning his laser. His laser, which was a small high-frequency model used in surguries, was the most important thing the man owned. He liked it for two reasons: it was effective and precise. It let him carve into things like an artist.
Not to mention it cauterized the flesh.
That meant no blood.
That meant an easy clean-up.
The man had been observed this woman for hours on end. Just under the cover of darkness, he watched her every move. He had covered every possible escape route, every scenario and in every scenario, he killed this woman. The woman in question was a striking lady of thirty-four years. Long black hair that reached the middle of her back. Black mini-jacket, boots, and pants. White fitted shirt that accentuated her hips. Under the gaze of any other man, she would be “sexy”. The man gagged at the thought. Looking at a person as a piece of meat instead of a person didn't compute for him. Never made sense. If they were a piece of meat, what fun would it be to kill them?
Sexy got out of her chair. The man took a step into the light. Was she leaving?
The woman gave her associates hugs and smiles. The man cracked his neck. He never had true friends throughout his life. Except for one. His name was Tragedy and he was no stranger to the man.
Sexy left the bar. The man followed her, keeping his distance. He had gauged it well: it was close enough to follow her but far enough for him to be invisible. She climbed the lightstation stairs and flashed her ID at the screen. A robotic voice called to her, “Have a safe trip, Catherine.”
The man flashed his. “Thank you for taking the lightlift, John.”
The man chuckled as his fake name was repeated to him.
There was a small hissing noise as the lightlift pulled into the station and kneeled. Amplifiers purring under it, Catherine and the man stepped onto the platform along with the other civilians. Once everyone had boarded, a set of lightwave bars surronded the passengers and the amplifiers pushed the lift on its way. The man looked towards Residental District Ten.
Images began to form in his head. A woman of forty years. Family of two. Loving husband.
Residental District Eleven. Young girl. Nineteen. Pregnant.
Residental District Twelve. Elder. A whopping eighty-two years. The man probably did her a favor.
This went on for another ten Districts untill the lift stopped at number twenty-three. Catherine got off. So did the man. As she walked across the platform, the man became interested at the lift schedule, killing time as Catherine got some distance. It would be such an amateur mistake to be caught this early.
She touched ground and the man wheeled around, quick in his stride, eyes locked on her. He couldn't afford to lose her. To lose her was to lose an opportunity. The man hated losing those. Lost in his thoughts, the man continued to tail Catherine. She still hadn't noticed him nor had she even looked back. Did she know what was going to happen to her? Did she already know that he was behind her? She turned a corner and a building came into view. The man smirked, his question so gracefully answered. That building was the reason she wasn't looking back; she figured that she would be safe in there.
The building was a Complex, a Government-built and funded building that excelled in security and peacefulness. In order to enter, one had to have a card specifically made for that Complex. Then, a specific room code stored onto said key. That only got you past the front door. After that, one had to go through the security guard and the card reader in the lightladder. It was perfectly secure. But, when you live in a world where crime is nearly non-existant, security is a false sense of just that. As the woman entered the Complex, the man rushed to the door, grabbing the edge with his foot. Once inside, his eyes immediately went to the security booth.
Empty seat. Typical.
A small bell sounded as the lightladder came down to the floor. “Hold that door!” He said, fake happiness in his voice. Catherine smiled at him in acknowledgment. As the man stepped on the lightladder, he watched her scan her card and press a button. Thirty. “Oh! We live on the same floor!” He lied.
Catherine gave him a wry smile at first, as though she was thinking about something. “Funny. I never saw any movers up there.”
“Nah,” the man assured. “I only had a single box of personals. Whenever I move, I buy new things. Fresh start and all that.”
She nodded in awe. “Do you live with anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Wow. I mean, my mother and I share the cost of things but you don't even have that. You must be rich. Where did you get all that Venus?”
“My parents died.”
Catherine gasped, instantly ashamed. “Oh, I am so sorry. That was so insensitive of me.”
“It's fine,” the man said, trying to end the conversation. He had said too much already. If this wasn't a clean kill, then this woman would have too much information to go on. She might actually go to the Officials. What a day that would be. Law enforcement, back on the streets.
The lightladder glided to a stop and the doors opened on the thirtieth floor. Unsure of what to say, Catherine waved goodbye to the man. The man did the same and as he did, the process almost seemed unnatural to him. He never understood how a simple gesture could fit in social norms. Do this and be normal. Do that and be accepted. Nothing that came from society made sense to the man. The woman began to walk in the opposite direction and a small excitement began to tickle the man. He was so close to satisfying that hunger. That dark pit in his soul that festered and writhed around like some sort of leviathan from the depths.
His thoughts went to the structure of the rooms. Spacious. Lightwave doors. White walls by default. And soundproof walls.
Looking down the hallway, the man watched as the woman unlocked the lock on her door. He moved towards her. Just as he was passing the lightladder doors again, the bell sounded again. The man stopped in his tracks, mind racing. Someone else was coming to this floor. The kill was out of the question now; there was a witness. He couldn't risk running at the woman. All she needed to do was close that door and the man was stuck outside. Out of options, the man decided to wait for the lightladder and walk away. He'd rather abort than get caught.
The lightladder doors opened wide. Out stepped a woman garbed in black and jade-green. She had long green hair with green eyes that matched her hair exactly. Two bangs of the hair fell over each side of her face and had a gold cuff on the end of each. The man took a step back. “You,” he hissed. He heard the fear creep into his voice.
The woman glared at him. “Yes. Me.”
“You won't be able to do it agai-”
A gust of wind cut him off. The man blinked and the woman was on him, fingers pressed against his temples. The man had been in this position before. Staring down certain death. It felt strange to him; maybe because this is what those women felt. The sensation made him feel alive. “Thirteen women in two days,” the woman told him. “I can't let that body count get any higher. You've already killed too many people.”
The man's eyes, wild and without focus, flitted from point to point. “If you reset me, I'll just remember. Maybe not for a long time but I will remember again. Then, I'm going to kill you.”
“No Human can touch me!” The woman yelled, jamming her fingers into the man's head. Blood began to trickle down the man's face from the woman's fingertips. The man kept going.
“Then, just kill me!”
The woman shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I still have hope in you,” she replied. The woman closed her eyes and reached inside of the man's memories. She took a breath and erased all of them. After this process was finished, she removed her fingers from his temples and pushed down on his chest. There was a flash of light and then the man was no more.
All that remained was the woman and a baby she cradled in her arms.