Predator

Her slow, calculated steps brought her around the corner and into the shadow-filled alley. Her footsteps thudded dully as she continued walking through the concrete passage. Her gait was smooth and catlike. Her braided black hair gently swayed from side to side as she moved. Comparable to a grandfather clock, her muffled footfalls sounded for the ticking seconds and her shiny braid for a pendulum.

She spotted her prey. Her lean, muscled body rippled in anticipation. Her double scarred left cheek creased as a malevolent smirk crept across her face accompanied by an almost inaudible laugh. She approached him with her hand on a concealed dagger. He did not turn to face her until she laid a hand on his shoulder. Her penetrating gray eyes met his. If she wanted to be silent, neither man nor beast heard her coming. He could not see her clearly, since she dressed entirely in rich, black clothing that matched the night and stood in the shadowed side of the alley. In spite of the difficulty, the man recognized her and stood frozen in fear.

"Lady Jynx." That was one of her names. It was really a nickname from the general public. Nothing seemed to go right for anyone but her when she was around. She did not answer. She had no need. In close proximity, her ebony perfume heightened his fear.

Her six feet tall, thin, wiry frame did not strain when her sharpened catlike fingernails tore into the flesh on the back of his neck with a clearly audible scrape. She simultaneously guided her dagger from its hiding place to his throat. Her smooth, white skin was very cold to the touch. It sent chills through her quarry. Her mordant eyes saw his fear of her. He struggled briefly, as he did so she could watch death overtake him while his blood spilled onto the ground. She half smiled, showing again her gleaming teeth. She seemed appallingly content with herself and sickeningly joyous.

She rose burdened with a heavy load of dead weight. Her rich clothing was now slightly spoiled; she was going to have to work on humans more often to keep up the knack of not getting blood on her clothes.

She kicked over a garbage dumpster with one strong strike of her foot. Her snakelike voice balefully laughed. She slammed her latest victim into the dumpster. Quite pleased with herself, she continued walking down the alley.

Her eyes met her employer's. "Lady Cain." Shadow Cain was her real name though most called her either Lady Cain or Lady Jynx.

She extended one firm, bony hand with long, pointed fingers. A bundle of money was soon placed upon her icy palm. A look at her face showed the scars on her cheek wrinkling into an evil grin that showed her pearl white teeth. She counted, then pocketed the money.

She again revealed her dagger, now dirtied with a man's blood. She forced her employer to retreat against the wall. As the blade pressed into his neck, she demanded to know of this new town. Everything was disclosed to her. She heard of the town's ten year history and a little bit more. Her hateful expression mocked him when she was finished listening, and her knife cut his throat as well. She did it not for payment this time, but for the sheer enjoyment of the killing and the dying.

She threw her head back and laughed a very hearty yet quite sickening laugh. Her braid hit a garbage can and knocked it over with a loud thwack. She watched as the can rolled several feet as a result of little effort on her part. She arose, put him in the dumpster with her other victim, and kicked it onto its top.

She was not trying to smile at the moment, so her face relaxed into her very deep and eternal frown. She scoffed at the world and its obsession with trivial things such as love and friendship. The only constant in the world is pain, she thought, you either cause it or feel it. She looked like a beautiful upper-class woman, but she killed for a living and then, after getting paid, killed her employer for pleasure. She sighed heavily; then she scowled wickedly. Pleasure time is over; I must find some more work. These were her thoughts as she walked out of the now silent alley. As she turned the corner, cleaning her dagger, her braid again began swinging in time with the seconds on a clock, or maybe a bomb counting down the minutes until it explodes.

author's note: this piece was written when I was 16, and was my first character in the Cain family.