A new werewolf/slayer idea. This might not be appropriate for the young ones. |
ยป This isn't anything especially deep and it's fairly short. I got struck with a new idea for a character and typed this up... I like the way it sounds and I think I like her quite a bit. Suggestions are always welcome. If there's something you don't like about her, or the way I wrote this, definitely let me know. I'm always trying to improve. =) -- The fire was finally starting to die down and the small flickers sent orange shadows dancing across the face of the woman who stood a few feet from the dying blaze. She stood in parking lot that bordered the docks over the lake, looking eerily relaxed in her baggy jeans and hoodie. Her hands were folded neatly in the front pocket of her sweater. Elliot wasn’t just a senseless killer; she had given the vampire a chance and he’d refused to cooperate. She gave him a fair shot and he blew it, so as far as she was concerned, she’d done society a favor by getting rid of him. The only thing she regretted about the fight was her current situation. The scent of his burning remains was horrible, made worse by her own heightened senses. With her small frame, she didn’t look like the kind of person who made a living killing the undead. Looks were often deceiving, though, especially in this particular slayer’s case. She was of average height and her large clothes made her look more scrawny than lean. Large, dark gray eyes peered from a plain, lightly freckled face, and her brown hair was kept short, the longest layers brushing her cheekbones. Heaving a sigh, she tore her eyes away from the gruesome scene, looking up to the moon instead. It was a faint sliver in the sky and half hidden behind clouds and city smog. That sight put her at ease - it was one less thing she’d have to worry about for the time being. Becoming a werewolf hadn’t been in her original plans, but she didn’t let it stop her from doing her job. It made things hard, but she wasn’t surprised she’d become afflicted. She figured that with a job like hers, death or disease was bound to happen sooner or later. So she didn’t whine, or hate life, or complain. The slayer rolled with the punches and carried on like she had done before, attempting to live as normal of a life as her affliction and ’job’ allowed. She was actually surprised. Other than the thirst, occasional burst of rage, and forced shift once a month, it wasn’t as bad as she’d first expected. It wasn't a walk in the park and she would never be at ease with what she was, but she was getting used it. The fire was almost completely burned out now. The only thing left were charred remains, red coals, and an occasional tiny flame. It was time to move again, though the nearly abandoned docks were a nice and quiet change from the excitement of the inner city. Elliot drew her weapon, performing a complete functions check on the pistol before replacing it back into its holster. She still had another full clip and two knives in case things got really bad, so she wasn’t too terribly concerned. The body dealt with, she was ready for the next fight, if one happened to come around, and she turned around to start her walk back into town... |