Diamondback

10: Beggars Can Be Prayers

A year had passed.

Does it matter?

Nothing matters. Human lives don't matter. Nobody matters. If human lives were so disposable, if I could just kill whoever I wanted and feel this apathetic, what was the point of keeping them around? I'll kill who I want, eat who I want, fuck what everyone else thinks. Even if I blacked out, I didn't care. The more I killed, the less I cared. Hell, I'd even go out on my own accord to watch life end at my fingertips. To watch vibrant eyes slip into a lifeless gray.

This city is shit.

The world is shit.

I'm...

Y'know, Chewy and I actually spent Christmas alone. Valentine's Day, my birthday, Eliza's birthday. It's not like I would be in a celebratory mood anyway. What's there to celebrate?

Today, I was out on another food run. Not the kind you're thinking, trust me. Remember those boxes of crackers I bought a year ago? Luckily, they were enough to hold me over for the amount of time they did, but everything's gotta end sometime. As much as I'd love to keep killing humans for food, not having anything to mindlessly snack on at home would suck ass.

Walking through the city and pushing past all of the sentient sacks of flesh, everything reeked of too much blissful happiness. The citizens around me weren't even aware of how their pitiful lives were at stake. How sad.

The front doors of ASBSTIRSCA slid open with an unoiled squeak and a few people with carts came rushing out, nearly knocking me off my feet. I'm already terribly unbalanced as is, so it pissed me off to all hell, but I couldn't clap off too early. I was here for crackers and that's it. No humans. Just crackers. Don't. Kill. Anybody....Today, at least.

I rushed over to the cracker aisle and gathered about six boxes this time. I mean, if four lasted about a year, then six would last just a tad bit longer, right? The awkward stares from the other shoppers had my palms sweating. Shit. Even if Mrs. Nicklewitch's coat covered most of my more outrageous features, I guess literal talons for toes would catch a few looks. Maybe I should've sent Chewy to do the shopping. Then again, even if I asked, it's not like he'd do it. He's been super uptight these days.

Caught up in my own racing freight train of thoughts, I never even noticed the wet floor sign right next to me. Unexpectedly, my blind ass slipped on a juice puddle, tumbling and sliding right across the floor with my cracker boxes. I didn't have it in me to be embarrassed. I was already scrambling for the now dented boxes.

"Dammit, man." I reached out for the last box, but my hand fell on top of a much, much warmer hand.

"Hi, sorry. Um, h-here's your, um..."

When I looked up to see who the fuck was touching my boxes of heaven, it was some pretty boy wearing a high school uniform. He was a frail little thing with wavy purple hair that fell just above his shoulders and curled cutely at the ends. It was obvious the roots of his hair were black since the top's true color was nearly exposed and the purple hue was slightly faded, making his style look more like an unintentional ombre type of dye. Damn, this guy needed a serious re-touch. His skin was super pale, always had some sort of cut or bruise, and his faintly freckled cheeks were flushed a natural shy pink. Up close, he smelled like light, expensive perfume. For someone so unreasonably beautiful, it seemed like he didn't get much sunlight in his lifetime.

But what stood out the most were his deep black melancholy eyes.

Jesus Christ, where do I know you from?

There was a hint of sweetness in the way he kneeled before me with his timid eyes casted off to the ground. Absolutely panicking, I snatched my boxes outta his scarred hands before he could get a closer look at me. Just as I was about to push past him and make my exit, this bigger guy came storming in.