Chapter 5- Nightclubs & Angels

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Halis prowled the flashing club from the dimly lit edges. Most of the others lining the wall either shot glowing junk into their veins or copulated with an urgency foreign to Halis. He assumed such base animal mounting was linked to their pure mammalian genes. But gave credence to the possibility they were simply an inordinately flawed species. Other mammals might be more appealing.

The interior of the dancefloor pulsed with those who had already polluted their veins and those looking to do so. The most appealing of the lot were the lost souls seeking genuine connections through gyrating hips. All of this in air filled with cheap plastic glitter and flickering near-pornographic images projected over the crowd.

As hunting grounds, it was abysmally easy. Might as well be a buffet.

Depressingly dull, but after the first wealthy neighbor went missing, Silvia insisted he couldn't kill near home. For her sake, because she enjoyed living in this place and walking in daylight, he preyed like a rat confined to the cellars. She deserved a home, and so did the beautiful little boy. For a short while, he would placate her and avoid notice.

Eventually, oh eventually, we won't need to hide. We will crawl from the shadows in renewed numbers and eat their hearts.

The dim flashy lighting of the place fooled human eyes into glossing over the flaws in both environment and clientele. Halis' sharp eyes saw every revolting detail. Broken needles imbedded in the plaster walls, a pool of piss near a garbage can smeared with white sticky goo, the combinations made his stomach churn. At least, the brothel had been clean, and the food unspoiled.

Life was a tradeoff.

Hunting, truly hunting for his prey, was glorious, and Silvia's smile as she looked out at the crators and whipping flurries of sand merited braving the acrid taste of drug-ridden blood.

Yes the hunt is good, the hive voice threaded his mind. It was stronger now, attached to Marim's life. It thrilled inside him to hear the vigor there and he would feed them.

The game of the night, a dark-haired thing, painfully naive in this crowd of wolves and lepers, struggled away from her intoxicated partner. Halis watched her patiently waiting for the correct moment. All night he made sure to meet her gaze, always looking away. Best a girl like that approach him.

As he offered her a tentative smile, something else caught his eye. A shining white in the filth.

Like a beam of moonlight, a female entered. White and pure to her core. He wanted to move closer, to smell her and be sure. She decorated the arm of some middling drug dealer and soon disappeared into the crowd. But not before her eyes, a vivid violet, briefly met his.

She would make a worthwhile hunt. Perhaps even be worth seeding with child.

Yes. She's the one. Born on her, your children will be strong, the voice said.

She'd taste like honey and wine. But not tonight. That would spoil the rarity. Best wait.

Halis grinned at the romantic fool again. This time he didn't look away. Having extricated herself from her lecherous partner, she was nearly at the bar. The sustained gaze was enough to alter the dark haired girl's destination to his side. Yes, I'm harmless.

Her mouth moved, shouting something over the din. Halis couldn't understand and shrugged to emphasize his helplessness. Her smell—too much perfume mingled with a tinge of hope—intensified as she leaned closer. No desperation clung to her, and her eyes were unclouded.

Come, he motioned to her.

She smiled in return, her hand settled into his, and he led her toward a back door. Out in the night, the stench receded, and the deafening pulse of recorded music quieted. Only a dozen people littered the patch of cement. Most blowing puffs of thick, noxious green smoke.

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