Demons Come Out to Play (Race Banner)

[Lian Aydial]

Eyes.

She could feel eyes lingering over her body as she walked through the dead town. Each step let out a resounding crunching sound that bound out across the empty buildings. Or where they empty? They might hold shadows of people and their sins. Or, those shadows, were very real and held very real eyes. And, with those eyes, came real blades.

Nothing.

Nothing could be found to make the noise. People were gone from these streets and walkways. Animals were asleep in the nooks and insects disturbingly inactive in the trash heaps. No whores or drunkard calling in glee nor any fights to disturb the peace.

Tendrils of moonlight skittered across the ground and the buildings bringing them to life. They animated the rotten wood and many the shingles bristle in anger. It was if this very town was about to swallow her up in it’s rusty nail maw.

But the whispers that crawled across her skin and chilling wind that caressed her cheek did not faze. Her. She was here for something and she would not be separated from it any longer. The need crawled across spine and into her chest. Placing a slim across her chest, a beautiful face was tainted by a grimace. It was like someone had airbrushed her face into perfection and just to have the sculpture crack. The flawless skin gained wrinkles of pain as the exquisiteness was interrupted by flashes of anger. Running a hand through her long waves of midnight black hair, she continued her search.

As she swept across the street, red eyes almost glowed as they scanned the alley ways that hid their demons well. The place she need was around her somewhere. . As a smile snaked it way across her plush lips, the girl spotted a door that was just barely cracked open. This was the spot where she was told to meet the merchant. Her need was about to be met.

The door was rough and splintered against her hand. Before she pressed on it, she stood a moment to listen inside the room. Serenity spilled across her wolfish features as no sound came to her ears. Holding a hand to the dagger under cloak discreetly, she pushed the door open slowly. It barely creaked in protest as she made her way past it.

Though, she was not ready for the stench that reached her nose. Like a rattle snake, the repugnant smell bit her nose. Reeling back a step, the mysterious women held a hand to her nose as she looked before her. She leaned back on one leg as she rested her other elegant hand on her waist. The way her white tunic loosely hugged her curves was made more obvious by the hand pulling it tighter. It was the merchant, dead on the table before her.

Grinding her teeth together, a feral growl started the claw out of her throat. Who did this!? The petite woman clenched her fists together as she slowly approached the man. Eyes ablaze, she searched for a cause of death.