Krystal's boots crunched on the gravel as she strutted to her motorcycle. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a long ponytail, and her forest green eyes darted around, searching for something from nothing.
The bike was her joy, a beautiful machine shined to a sparkling shimmer. She straddled it, slipping on the red helmet, decorated with black flames. Krystal started up the engine, disappearing in a cloud of dust and exhaust, leaving a salt and burn behind her.
Krystal loved hunting. She had no one to hurt, she could drink, she could flirt, and she had no one to think of at home, no one to worry about hurting. In that perfect scenario she had nestled herself into, Krystal was happy. She could save people, she could help families, and she could ignore her own.
She did, however, have a particular hatred of werewolves and demons. Those two were more vile and despicable than every other put together. They killed for the fun of it, not for nutrition like Windigos and Vampires, but for the love of killing. No, she was not the same.
The town she drove into was small and hidden away, a place where no questions were asked and no bibles given. That was a thing she both liked and hated- Christianity. She leaned more towards Catholicism for the angels and songs, but she knew there was no God. How could there be with all the monsters and evil that inhabited the world.
If there's demons, there must be a God, A little voice inside her said. She shrugged it off and walked into the diner, ordering a pie and a root beer, since there wasn't any real alcohol around.
She noticed a few men staring at her, but didn't give them second glance. Although she didn't think she was anything, lots of people tended to believe differently. So she let them. Let them think she knew she was a beautiful angel, then cut off attachments. Easiest way to get out of a relationship is to change your number.
There was one man, however, that caught her eye. Golden hair, eyes the color of whiskey, tan skin. He wasn't staring directly at her, but watched her from his glass. He looked up and threw her a wink. Krystal honestly blushed and didn't know why. She paid for her pie and sat across from him, not trusting herself to start the conversation.
"You come here often?" His voice was soft, smooth like caramel. What wasn't handsome about this guy?
Krystal rolled her eyes dramatically, digging her fork into the pie. "Not if you're around." She looks away pointedly, staring at the Diner's window.
"Then I'll make my exit." Krystal grunted as she landed onto a cushion placed neatly on the gravel.
The diner, the town, everything, had disappeared. Did she have a vision? Was she hallucinating? No, not possible, she thought. The pie and it's box were still in her hands, fork halfway through the filling.
"What the fuck...?" Krystal mouthed as she looked around, then down at the pie. "At least you stayed." She said as she took a mouthwatering bite.
