It was late. The city had succumbed to the dark hours ago, but he couldn't sleep a wink. The blanket slipped down from his folded legs, and his posture slumped.
The yellow eyes hypnotising him every time he blinked. The thoughts invaded every waking moment like an army of lions stampeding through his brain.
He placed his head in his hands as it pounded relentlessly. The pain wouldn't go away.
It was the worst crime, and on a city guardsman as well. He didn't have time to think of the consequences, only the necessity of it. No-one was going to take away his only living family. They'd taken the rest, but they weren't having her.
Zami was sleeping and had been ever since he'd returned. Even the crunching sound of snow, and the echo of the door beam falling into place hadn't roused her.
The thoughts within him were chaotic, and they flashed through his mind at a frightening rate. Did they need to flee the city? Could it be done in shadow? Where would they go?
There was a witness to his crime, and it was only a matter of time now. But he couldn't stay inside forever – they needed food.
One thought above all others scared him the most, and it was imprinted into his consciousness like a library stamp. How he felt when the life drained from the guard. It wasn’t what he expected, if he even really expected anything. Watching the guardsman take his last desperate breath was an emotion that both frightened him and excited him in equal measure. There was no denying a feeling that strong, no matter how he wished it.
Every so often, as he sat thinking, the pit of his stomach would ache. But these were no hunger pangs, rather a much more dominating reaction. That guardsman was only doing his job. He probably had a family of his own, and his children might be waiting for his return.
They would have a long wait. Zan knew all about the wait.
His dry cracked lips wobbled as he thought about it, and his eyes began to sting. A few tears managed to escape and trickle down his cheeks. But the bawling soon quietened as he looked up from his hands. A dim glow emanated from the cracks in the small wooden box he'd acquired earlier in the day. Its purple hue flickered sporadically in random directions.
Crawling over to it, he cranked the stiff lid open and a fluorescent light covered the walls around the room. It was so bright that Zan stuffed it beneath his blanket hurriedly.
The vial shimmered between his thumb and finger as he held it beneath the covers, gazing at it for the longest time, and wondering about its curious nature. Tales had been told to him by his parents and other elders of the danger of it. It was said to hold demonic powers according to some, and was used to harness control for thousands of years. Yet no-one had ever mentioned its beauty save for the colour. What else could it be than Sykana Violet?
The well-used top screwed off easily and he put it to his lips, tipping his head back and allowing the cold liquid to trickle down his throat, tossing the empty vial to one side.
He sat back against the wall. Half an hour passed and he felt nothing. No easing of the pain, or change in thoughts.
A plan formulated in his mind. At first light tomorrow, he would race to the market to find some food. He'd then come back and feed Zami before taking her out of the city. She'd need to be wrapped up from head to toe of course, so a hat from the market might be useful to cover her scars. The forests on the other side of the river might be a better place to stay. It would be well away from suspicious eyes, and firewood wouldn't be a problem. A bow could be made from one of the branches in order to catch some Snarkers. He would've been staying there already if it weren't the distance to market and the need to remain close to Zami. The only other thing they needed were some blankets – at least for starters.
He'd been running this over and over in his mind and hadn't realised – he no longer felt hungry at all. His head wasn't pounding and he felt relaxed.
A tiny tingling came from the depths of his stomach and it began spreading, slowly at first but accelerating through his chest and arms. It reached his face with a bang, and his head snapped back and he felt pleasure all over his body. It was euphoric, causing him to break out into an involuntary smile. He groaned and fell back against the wall, writhing in ecstasy. His breathing became short, occasionally exhaling forcefully when the feeling became too much. After the initial stronger sensations steadily subsided, his final thoughts before passing out turned back to murder, and whether he would do it again.
Absolutely.
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