Her Last Death

I waited as the rain made the rooftops shine like broken neon lights.

I crouched low, my legs bent and my fingers pressed into the brick and mortar, I listened to the city, and viewed the lights also, I could hear the distant hum of traffic. I had been there for hours, I was watching and I was waiting. 

And from my watch, nothing moved without a reason.

And my heart was calm, too calm that some might say it was not natural but to me this was a ritual, hunting wasn't about excitement, It was about discipline and It was about devotion.

Through the channel in my camouflage, I watched him leave the bar from my hiding spot. He looked so ordinary, and that was the lie he wore like a coat, but small signs always gave them away. He moved quietly as the crowd moved away from him without realizing why, the reflection he was avoiding in the glass wasn't an accident, it was impossible, and there, under his casual walk was the stillness of something not entirely human.

There was something off about him, so I slid off the roof like a shadow. The fire escape rattled under my weight, then I landed in the alley way, and like a cat sniffing through a trash can flicked its tail, like it didn't care and nothing scared it, nothing gave me away. I made the city move to my rhythm because I learned before that the prey walks where you let it, not where you chase it.

Then, I flicked my wrist with a small tool on the nearest streetlight and it went off and half of the block was in darkness, knowing he would walk into that darkness willingly, I didn't chase, I just set up the world.

Afterwards, I stepped into the light near a corner, my shoulders relaxed and my posture was innocent. Of course, I was human but I was alone,and I was vulnerable on purpose. He saw me and he froze, his eyes focused on me like a compass.Thinking the hook had been caught.

He approached me, his voice was smooth as he spoke, His eyes were calculating as he watched, he was charming. I let him speak first, and kept my words short as I layered them with truths he couldn't understand. There was a flicker in him, a barely noticable pause which was enough to confirm he knew I wasn't a mistake, perhaps, not yet.

When he got too close, I moved, with a silver blade that caught the faint neon light, it moved faster than I thought and it was aimed at the heart that had never known fear. I expected him to dodge before he did, as my movements were practiced from years of precision.

The fight that followed was a dance of control, no wasted motion, angles over strength, timing over force. Then he lunged, his claws sliced inches from my ribs, this made me spin and used my wrist and elbow to redirect his momentum. I forced him back into the narrowing alley, with each strike calculated to unbalance him, not to overexert.

I moved on and I spoke while I moved, calm, detached, I labelled his patterns as he executed them, I predicted, I named, and I broke his confidence. Each of my word was a scalpel, it carved doubt into the predator who thought he had the advantage, It replaced intention with reaction and replaced pride with desperation.

And then, the alley wall pressed against his back and the ice cold stone offered no comfort, the silver blade found its mark clean through his heart. With no show and no hesitation, his body shuddered, It convulsed and began to disintegrate. Ash fell to the concrete and I watched until nothing remained.

The aftermath was my routine. 

I cleaned the blade, I wiped the traces till every surface returned to normal, I collected the token, a small silver ring because it was proof. Nothing in the world outside this alley would remember him. And throughout, my breathing never changed, I was calm as always 

Yet.

As I turned, a sensation coiled around my spine, to watch or to wait but the rooftops offered no answer, no form to pin my gaze on, them I scanned the fire escapes, the vents and the flickering neon above, still nothing, and for the first time in a long while the solitude that normally anchored me felt fractured.

I stepped into the rain anyway and went deep into the city where I should be, lights and shadows folded over me. But nothing followed or I probably told myself that.

Still I had this feeling that something was off like an echo that I couldn't shake, it was like a hum that I could feel but couldn't quite control, something that seemed to be lurking just out of sight.

As I walked through the streets I was on alert, my muscles tense and my senses on edge, but to anyone looking at me I just looked like a normal person, not special or super alert, just human and I blended in seamlessly. Only I knew the truth, that I wasn't just trying to survive the hunt, I was trying to be precise to leave no loose ends not for their sake but for mine.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, it was like a weight on the back of my mind, I couldn't see it nor put my finger on it but I knew I wasn't completely alone anymore.

For the first time I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.