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But on meth it is..


iHomicidal
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Vampire
The air was crisp, as it always is in the fall, people hustled along the cities cramped little streets. It was a sea of black coats and well dressed office rats who scurried to their respected homes, ignoring the sniffling homeless who were left to tremble in the cold.
Ah, there was a n** in the air. but the fresh, clean smell of the coming winter was well worth a little chill. The sky was covered by a thick, never ending gray blanket that was the solid color of iron and made the grim city seem all the crueler. Not to Leonardo Avalon though, who preferred the quiet solstice of winter to that of summer or spring. He liked the cold, he liked the way it made his body tighten and thrum stubbornly against the freezing tempters. Sitting on top of a building where the wind was harsher, and nasty enough to make even his old bones ache was an interesting distraction from the never ending boredom he had felt since taking position on top of the target’s home earlier that morning.
Leo, standing shivering on top of the house of 1624 Cherry street, was looking blankly at the quiet little street below him as a half burnt cigarette dangled from his pinched lips.
The house it’s self was an older model, a stylish home that was built on crooked ground with dreary red bricks, and large peering windows glared out from flashy white frames. It was an ancient Philadelphian home, a classic beauty dripping with history and from the smell of it enough termites to launch World War III.
Leo was sitting on the flat roof of this place, standing in the dim sun light as a merciless winter wind pulled and teased his wild black hair in every direction around his startlingly pale face.
He shifted silently from foot to foot, pulled the cig from his lips and hissed gray smoke into the wind.
“Michael and his God forsaken gossip will pay for forcing me on this roof all day.”
Leo thought and sighed. Being out in the sun wasn’t only against all of Leo’s instincts, but being ordered to enter into another predator’s territory had him snarling at every passing bird. This place, this section of the city was not part of Leo’s hunting grounds, and he was damned if he was going to drop one lick of blood for some rumor.
Leonardo sighed heavily; tucked one balled hand firmly into the pocket of his pea coat and blew another well rounded ring out before flicking the cigarette down into the street.
“It’s been more then a decade since a witch was scented in this part of Pennsylvania, I seriously doubt that there’s been one here for almost eighteen years and no ones known about it.”
He mumbled to him self, and flipped up the collar of his jacket for a little protection against the whipping wind. Not that he was so affected by the elements to have become uncomfortable, but he knew what a fight it would be later to get his thick ebony locks back into proper place....
Suddenly, a hot smell on the breeze jerked Leo’s head almost forcefully to his left. Looking west ward down the street, this smell this...tangible odor startled his senses and forced his upper lip back past a set of glistening ivory fangs that slide out of his gums. Fat, heavy drops of venom spilled over his clenched jaw as he gazed with wide eyes a small, fiery haired woman moved gracelessly down the street to ward him.
As she moved closer and closer, at a slow pace even for a human, Leo shook his head from side to side and was actually forced to cover his noise from the stench of her. It was a disgusting, thick scent that burned his throat and nose with revolution and instinctual warning even though she hadn’t even covered half the distance to her home yet. He was ashamed, that he trembled once at the smell....only once, but thankfully no one was around to kill him for it.


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Apocalypse [i.e] Mutants etc.



The sky was the fresh color of blood as the sun slowly died behind a series of broken, rusted sky scrapers. The light reflected beautifully, tragically off of the dull glassy surface that was the remnants of the city.
Now only ruins, sharp rusted things, reared their crippled masses into the red and orange sky.
The air was hot, humid, and wet to the tongue despite the fact that not a wisp of cloud tainted the suns lingering rays. The heat was so heavy it was almost tangible to the skin, weighing down and dragging your feet as it drained the strength from your bones.

This is what Sveta Sidorov was thinking as she leaped, danced, and flew over twisted remnants of cars that jammed the cluttered streets like broke toys. Her long, dirty legs stretched out and carried her tirelessly over these hulking bits of metal as she fought to keep every step ahead of the wolves.
The only things that gave away her strain to hold her speed was the slight parting of her full, pale lips and the slick layer of sweat the shinned on her skin.
Sveta was a young lady of eighteen perhaps nighteen with a busty figure and wide eyes colored with terror.
She was dressed in a filthy white tank top smeared with blood, and dirt that painted it against the flat of her stomach. That and a pair of tattered, worn green army shorts were all that she wore.

"s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t s**t!"
Was all Sveta could think as her large, hiking boots thundered restlessly against the weak car roofs that crumpled a little at her slightest touch.
Her long, flowing black hair was tied up into a very loose ponytail that danced gracefully behind her and whose long bangs escaped stubbornly from it's band to rest against her cheeks.
This was something she hated, but there was no time at the moment to brush the hair from her eyes.

Because at that particular moment the young girl had a pair of enormous,snarling, foaming dogs tearing up the street hot on her hurrying little heels.

These wolves, almost identical in nature, both had fur the dull color of iron that...was actually peeling disgustingly off of their rolling, bunching muscles as they ran. Each was perhaps a little smaller then the mini vans they crashed numbly through, white hot fangs glistening in black gum's.

"I don't have the fire power to kill them both, but I can't out run them for much longer."
She thought, really feeling the weight of the heavy Beretta 92S guns strapped by a thick belt onto her hips.
Her body was tired, aching, and thirsty as she forced it to jump harder,faster, and further to stay out of the Wolves reach.
"I need a tank, or at least something with heavy doors...maybe a bank?"
She was panting roughly now, her fists trembling as she shot down the street like a noisy, pale bullet and kept her hard eyes peeled for some sort of escape.






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