West

The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a grunginess that permeates the town from the graffiti on the once cleaned brick buildings to the broken and unmaintained architecture. Crime runs high within the western half of town, making it the home of supernatural gangs of illicit activities. Such activities are rarely reported, however, and most residents are distrustful of individual's of authorities, and often let the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.

What You'll Find Here

Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn

tsunami Nadya


Posted on May 11, 2014 by Alexis Wilde
West

I find myself on the western side of town. I feel more comfortable here than anywhere else in town. The people are less likely to stare when there's others in just as grungy clothes as I have on. I have my gray hoodie drawn up to cover my face, my head ducked down as usual. A few black tendrils of hair might escape but my bright blue eyes dart warily around me at the people who walk by, waiting to flinch if any hands or shoulders get too close. I try to stick to the less busy side walks so there's less chance of touching. If only I could turn into the scarlet colored creature that everyone used to call Silk and run off into a hole somewhere where no one could find me.

I know if I get too hungry, I can always steal something to eat. I was always good at that. My stomach rumbles as if to remind me of just how long its been since I've had a decent meal. I hear some commotion down an alleyway and my innate curiosity has me glancing down there, sharp eyes widening at the sight. There's three men cornering an elderly gentleman at a dead end, knives in their hands as they cat call and laugh at the old man, who looks scared enough to pee himself. Tremors take over my body as I see the fear in the man's eyes and know that its reflected in my own now as I'm pulled back to past memories.

I take a hesitant step back, ready to flee, as if always my instinct but the old man cries out as one of the men manages to cut his arm. My keen nose can smell the rich blood from here and my heart starts racing. My breathing picks up and my hand goes to my chest. The old man seees me as if he can hear my soft gasp as I try to catch my breath and I can see the helplessness in his eyes, pleading for me to help him. Before I know it, I hear my voice. It's strained and shaking.

"Hey!"

It's all I can get out, my eyes widening the minute I realize I just spoke. The men turn to me, devilish gleams in their eyes. They can probably smell my fear from here. I know I need to run but for some reason, I'm frozen to this spot, watching as they stalk toward me like lions toward a wounded gazelle.





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