1 Dark as Ink

Silence, just silence. The world around seemed to be asleep. The dark sky agrees, so does the bodies which lay on the ground still. The rubble from previously built structures now burnt and broken, lay around them.

"Crack!" Through the silence, a deafening sound broke past, followed by quick but light foot steps across soft soil then on wooden planks then on the soil again. A figure in a black cloak raced from debris to debris making sure that no one had followed it. It made it's way to the end of the former village where it hid behind the remains of a broken pillar. In the darkness of night the figure was virtually invisible.

"Hey, it's about to rain lets call it a day, I'll go collect the goods you start packing up here. With the amount we have I don't think we'll need to do this anytime soon." A man wearing some brown leather amour was sitting beside another man with similar attire around a camp fire. The figure flinched and ducked back further behind the pillar.

"Are you kidding? I'm not doing this for the money, if I were I'd be helping my parents with the business. No, I'm not doing this for the money it's for the thrill" The other man had blond hair in a very simplistic hair cut almost similar to a bowl cut. His pupils seemed to constrict as he spoke, and his face deformed into a disgusting smile that will be used for children's nightmare stories.

"The sensation it gives me when I kill one of those beast, or when I..." He suddenly stopped and looked down at his groin region. A small mound can be seen on his woollen pants.

"Hehe, lets stop that for now" his face and eyes return to normal as if it had never happened.

"I'll go collect the goods, you clean up the camp." He began to walk off in the direction of the town centre. The other man watched as he left then shook his head and began packing. Then calmness, the silence returned and only the sound of bags and the fire crackling can be heard. The moonlight pierced through the thick clouds illuminating the figure behind the pillar. Under the cowl of the cloak were a pair of beaming blood red eyes which belonged to a fairly young girl around the age of sixteen to eighteen, stalking the man packing the bags.

"Why did I have to pack the camp, it was my idea to leave." He bent over backwards trying to crack his back then stood back up right and started hitting his lower back. The young girl left her hiding spot and slowly crept towards the man. The man was still beating his own sore back as the girl continued forward. She observed and matched his pace, as the man hit his back she took a step forward, then another, another and another. Finally the man stopped and crouched back down and continued packing little did he know directly behind were two red eyes staring down his neck.

She swiftly took a crescent shaped knife from under her cloak and slashed the man's neck. The blood from his neck spewed everywhere in front of him. He began gagging and clutching his throat. He turned and saw the cloaked girl standing over him as he fell to the ground and clutched onto the girl's foot as if pleading for help. She stood there emotionless and kicked his hand away then proceeded to kick his forehead to open the slit wider. The man bleed to death.

She looked at the motionless body and did not blink nor showed any emotion. She turn and left towards the direction of the other man.