Calanthe is not human. A fact that she takes great pride in.
Taking the life of a human is not just survival for her... She enjoys it.
Living life on the run going place to place and attracting the attention of people whose attention she really doesn't want to be attracting.
Yet what happens when she attracts some attention of a different kind?

*Let me know if rating needs to go up or down at any point, not to sure yet whether it is yellow or not... Tbh I have never paid much attention to the ratings and doubt many people do. But just let me know :)


1. My big performance

I looked down as the alarms rang off. The loud wailing screech of bells going off was a contrast to the stupor of apparent numbness which had overcome me.

I glanced at my hands briefly, before glancing back at the scene before me. My slimy hands were already starting to crust and as I checked them again I saw the colour seeping into my skin. Staining the palms, and the fingertips; of my deathly still hands of two contrasting colours.

I couldn’t have chosen a better stage for my act. The window behind me displayed my back to everybody on the field, their noses pressed against the glass and screaming as they stared at me, wild eyed with both terror and fascination.

Here’s the thing with humans... If something scares them... You can just about bet it fascinates them too.

So much so that they’d put just a glass barricade in between them and somebody that they had just watch kill one of them with their bare hands.

I don’t need weapons. Now they know that too, but it won’t stop them looking. It’s not enough to send them running for the hills yet. I can see the head talking furiously into his phone, his own eyes also transfixed by the sight of me.

I turn to face them, glancing out of the window behind me and watching with an intense satisfaction as they draw back slightly. Even the bravest retreating a few steps as I smile sweetly at them and raise a hand to show I am aware they are watching.

The same groups which have tormented and teased me this entire term with threats to rough me up and make my life hell now gaze at me with a terrified awe.

And it feels great.

I really should learn not to make such a mess...The walls; ceiling, and floor are splattered periodically with crimson fluids and odd little lumps here and there.

“Having fun Calanthe?” says a voice from behind me, and I whirl around in an instant, knowing that voice anywhere.

“Ahriman.”  I say curtly. I knew all along he would show up. His body is obscured as usual, so that I never fully know what he looks like. The outline of his head is all I can make out. An indistinct shape, which is somewhere between; too large and too small

“Bit of a waste don’t you think?” he asks, doing that infuriating thing where he makes himself harder to see by blurring his outlines, whilst nodding at the chaos around us.

“What I think is none of your concern.” I reply, “So you can stay out of there.” I continue upon feeling the slight pressure against my wall from a weaker point. Chink in the armour you might say.

He chuckles lightly, the best way to describe the sound and sight of his little cloud jiggling a bit above me.

“I can see you still feel the same.”

He doesn’t allow it to seem like a question. Why bother answering it? He knows the answer anyway. Instead I ask my own.

“What do you want?” If he was in a full form I could easily see he would be picking an imaginary speck off of his robes, flicking it off with a brush of long cold fingers which would then interlock in a pale spidery shape as he surveys me with keen eyes. I don’t know what he looks like currently, but I can sense the action in his voice as he replies in a casual voice which so rightly fits this idea:

“I want you to return to us.”

“Never,” I respond without even pausing. My lips are so tight I’m surprised that they let any sound past them. “You know I won’t do that. Why even bother coming to ask?”

“I don’t recall asking.” He replies mildly. So mild I can just about picture him smiling down at me. Perhaps even fondly. The way a human surveys a pet that is acting stubborn and so cute they forget its irritating manners and just smile at it.

“Either way... No. I’m busy.” I indicate the teacher who long ago stopped moving on the peach carpet and now no longer even jerks every so often.

“You think they are going to let you out after watching this?” I know instantly he means the crowd of people behind me. “You still haven’t learnt to control your emotions Calanthe, you need me.”

“I don’t need anybody.” And for what must be the first time ever, I hear a sigh come from him, before he begins to evaporate into the thin air he sprung from mere minutes ago.

“Stubborn as your mother.” He whispers, his voice just a breath from a none existent breeze, as I look at the people outside again.

His words make my blood boil, a roiling, boiling, turmoil which bubbles up inside me at his mention of her. His casual reference to her personality.

The sirens interrupt my thoughts, and I decide it’s time to move on. I’m done feeding.

Human police may be easily done away with, but I really can’t be bothered any longer.

So I leave. With all their eyes still on me.

Eyes wide.

Eyes round.

Full of fear.

Full of fascination. 

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