Venom

4: The History of Us

Men strolled down the stone and brick street in their trailered suits and long coats of various silks and flashy colors, fancy canes casting out vibrant glows every now and then when their magic sparked against the ground. Those who did not wish to dress in the fashion wore their furs and silks, but of course, not all of those who wore furs were fur born. Sharp ears could hear the pounding of feet miles away as they ran from pursuers who wished to avenge a wrongful hunt.

Women smoothed out their beautiful bulky dresses and fanned themselves accordingly as they had seen others do before them. A few perfected dangling curls, others braided theirs down. Scales, jewels, stones, and claws glittered and shone, catching the eyes of some who appreciated the view and others who wanted to do more than simply look at the fortune that decorated a face, neck or hand. A giggling group of young girls waved their glove-covered hands at one another, chatting away in obvious ignorance to the gangling young man who was trying to get their attention for his own purposes.

Buildings of all shapes and structures and colors decorated the streets like paintings hanging from an art museum; tall, short, rounded, curved, squared, all types of buildings with all types of customers. Very few owners were posh enough to have a building designed for a magic structure. Even less, actually floated. Those buildings were exclusive and could only be seen by eyes were knew what to look for. Every now and then a building would glow, its outlines simmering and illusionary.

Passageways where dark and dreary, cold and dead eyes staring from the shadows that hung around those areas. Although dangerous, as they were to the people who were pulled into them during the night where they were never to be seen again, they were still needed for those who needed a quick escape. Everyone was always in need of a quick escape.

You can't have a world of humans and otherworldly beings coexist without there being a few problems.

On that seemingly chilly day, a crumpled and nearly wet lone piece of paper fluttered through the streets, twisting and turning directions. Shooting straight under the brick bridge and above the tranquil lake it slipped in between the narrow crack between two buildings, for a moment it began to float downwards as if coming to a rest, but it took off at the sudden breeze in the air. It danced around a flock of birds, their fluttering wings halting every direction the paper flew at until it finally found an exit and was up in the air once more.

Eyes paid it no mind as it moved across the street, almost mimicking the quick movement of the people themselves. A halting body caused the paper to cling to their broadened back before it was seemingly ripped away and back into the busy streets. On an adventure this crumpled paper went, every once in a while clinging to the unsuspecting person in the attempt of a free lift. The sky was changing to a familiar but barely distinguishable green when the paper began to slow, wind dancing around it, rather than with it. With the lightest of creases, it touched with the wet grass that went downhill, towards the doc.

The paper finally seemed to descend to the ground, far away from where it's first had begun, twisting and landing elegantly in front of the end of a frilly white dress.

There was a momentary pause in the air as the young lady reached down to pick up the worn looking paper. Holding it up in front of her, she read out loud.

"Londream : March 23, 1823

Missing List Grows Along With The Bodies

As of today, twenty-eight people have gone missing in the city of Londream. And most recently twenty-eight piles of clothing were found two weeks ago that have been identified as belonging to the same missing list. In the beginning, authorities have withheld commenting on the growing situation but with the new missing victim being Mariana Velankez, werewolf actress and mother of three, the head of staff police was forced to declare something after his home was attacked by frenzied fans of the actress of four hundred and thirty-three years of age.