Snippet #1536278

The man was standing beyond his target. His head was low, his sun shades pushed all of the way against his face. He smelled rotten, his breath was rancid and the clothes he was wearing were dingy. He cared little for the discomfort the people around him must have felt. That was of no importance to this person. Could he be considered a person just because he was in the body of one of these smelly, sickening people. He hated these people but they tasted so good when they were terrified. He may as well get rid of the girl in the process of things. A bunch of people that weren't terrified did nothing for his kind. A cramped subway in one of the most heavily populated cities on this miserable planet was going to be a wonderful place to start dinner. He could do away with the little woman on the subway and catch the stragglers as they attempted to escape the carnage.

The train was barely moving when it was shaken by an explosion and brought to a screeching halt. If it had been moving at speed it may have been derailed. Smoke billowed throughout the subway stop and screams signaled the quick retreat of its occupants. Some stuck around, just clearing the train, in order to watch. What they saw they would have a hard time believing and a harder time explaining.

The man was relieved, happy that all of the smelly humans were gone. He hated feeling enclosed, trapped. The walls, ceiling and floor of the train had survived his release of energy, a dome of pressurized energy quickly exploding from his center. The people hadn't. They were painted on the ceiling and walls of he train. The windows were gone, the metal buckled and the track beneath the train was destroyed. What flesh and blood hadn't painted the train had splattered along the walkway with a showering of glass shards. The man extricated from his black coat which was too large for him and let the coat fall into blood and bone. He smiled as he cracked his neck, letting a thin black blade form in his left hand. Why had be chosen such a scrawny, weak, cramped body to inhabit. No less, he was having fun. The doors were open now and the people were flowing out of the train, damned near killing one another in order to escape. The woman was still there. The man slashed the sword in mid-air, pressurized energy exploding away from the blade, smashing into the walls of the train as he slowly walked toward the woman as he sang, "The itsy-bitsy spider went UP," another blast, the water spout. DOWN," another blast, "came the rain and washed the spider OUT!" another blast. "There will not be a sun to come out for you pathetic fucking beings!" He set his sights on the woman he wanted. "Come here you!"