"A patter pot the rain drops drop and I find myself awake. The meat is eaten , bones sucked clean and the cold so cold I shake." A smokers cough came out from a shadow in a alley followed by a repeat of the little rhyme. The only visable part of the homeless man was a pair of very dirty , ver yuncared for feet swaying back and forth with a pair of ratty sandles barely being held on to the feet. A makeshift little tin siding and cardboard shed of sorts was covering the rest of him , so that only his feet were getting wet.
Once again he repeated the rhyme even as three very large and very angry men stopped in front of his alley. What were they saying? Something about losing a 'piece o' ass'. Well that's rediculess thought the homeless man A ass can't be -that- hard to find if lost. another smokers laugh broke through the night and attracted the attention of one of them men , the smallest of the three as the other two had walked off to some form of 'party' no doubt.
"Stan up ya' fu**in' bum." the thug yelled down at the homeless man. Once more , last time repeat the rhyme. When he finished a hand shot out from the rest of the homelessmans form. Black , long , clawed. So dark was it that it was hard to tell the difference between it and the shadow the little shed cast and so long that it had wrapped around the mouth of the thug and pinned him to a back wall.
The homeless mans feet slid back in to the shadows of the shed as a different laugh was heard. A empty one , almost seeming to belong to a british man in his early twenties. "Well now , well now look it that now. More meat." And with a lunge and a crunch the deed was done and the body pulled deeper in to the alley , in to a dumpster particularly. The shadowy man who had dragged it there simply dusted it's hands off as his bizzarely thin frame suddenly seemed to ooze clothes on to itself. A grin bright white adorning his face and with a claw running over the bald black head long white hair to shape as well. "Tis a funny thing the world of man. Never will get how their meetings are sapose to work I think. I mean I -think- he was sapose to win that fight...Then again maby the homeless wretchs are as monsterouse as me! Who knows? Not I."
Tillian shook his head befor skipping out of the alley , turning on his heel and walking past another shadow before changing form again. The same large thug he had just killed now stomping back the way he came. The voice was a bit off but it would do. "These feeble fobbled fphillistines must have been coming from something fun. Let's take a look shall we?" With in minutes of tracing steps and prints and glares from other people Tillian or 'thug number one' as he had named him new form found himself outside a apartment building. Looking down the alley he shrugged and made his way there , coughing around and kicking over stones and sticks and garbage pales. He was making quiet the racket but he was determined to dig up what exacly it was three thugs could have been so interested in in a alley. There was no body , no discarded weapons , no black mail pictures so far. But keep kicking things over and Tillian would find something interesting eventually....or someone in the apartment next to him would tell him to shut up which in itself would be a little interesting.