Spark of Chaos

He caught up to me as I was crossing the tree lined common, and I spun to face him, hands raised defensively.

With a grin, he hopped back out of reach and once again his eyes flashed with the vividly unnatural violet. But I was ready, and I kept myself in control, forcing aside the change.

"Not polite," he murmured coyly, smiling at me.

I grunted in reply, scanning the common to make sure we were alone. An all too familiar pressure rose in my chest-that urge that came when fear threatened to overwhelm me. 

The one that made me dangerous.

My breathing grew shallow, and I was acutely conscious of the rise and fall of my chest as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. My mouth filled with saliva, reading itself for what was to come. Disgusted, I swallowed it down.

"What do you want, half-breed?"

There was no hiding the anger in my tone. I'd been discovered. Just when things were going so well.

"Peace," he said, holding up his hands, palms out, unfazed by my choice of words. "I'm curious, is all."

"Be curious elsewhere, I've nothing for you."

I took a step back and he leaned forward, eyes gleaming with hunger, almost desire.

"What are you?"

I didn't answer. If he didn't already know, then why the hell would I give him a clue?

He began to move, circling around me, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes intent as he scrutinized me, searching for an answer to his question as though he could determine the answer if he just looked hard enough.

Idiot.

"I've met my share of witches, sorcerers and psychics," he said, voice soft, almost gentle as though he were afraid, he would scare me away. "Their eyes shine golden, lit by the magic they hold."

"Not elemental," he continued, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I've not met one, but I know their colours. Undead too, those are easy to recognise."

"What's your point?" I snapped, fear giving way to anger as he circled me, studying me like I was some specimen.

"Shapeshifters eyes are amber, while creatures of the lower planes are a deep purple." He flashed a grin, showing teeth as gestured to himself. "Of course, I'd know that."

"Yes, yes," I said, rolling my eyes with a sigh of exasperation. "You know the most common races. What does it matter?"

He stopped his pacing and leaned in eagerly, his grin turning wolfish, his eyes hungry.

"Because I've never seen eyes turn black," he murmured, his voice dripping with hunger.

Shit.

He'd seen.

It was always the same with people like him-they always talked. It wouldn't be long before word got back, and then they would come for me.

I could run.

Or I could put an end to his questions permanently.

In the distance the low rumble of the band had begun, loud enough that I could almost make out the words. It was still light out and there were people walking along the road, heading to and from the common with dogs on leashes.

Cars sped past, people heading home or out on their Friday night outings. Taxis with people heading into the city centre to the pubs and clubs there.

Witnesses.

Too many to count.

"Not here," I said, my voice a whisper, laced with defeat as I came to a decision. I wasn't ready to run. Not yet. Not when I was just starting to rebuild my life.

"Then where?" he asked, cocking one brow as the corner of his mouth lifted, wolfish grin becoming a leer as he looked at me with a different kind of hunger. "I'm not far."

"Sure," I said, shoulders slumping, the very picture of defeat. "Let's go to your place."

Better than making a mess in my flat anyway.

He half-turned, gesturing with one hand for me to walk along beside him. I did so in silence, watching him from the corner of my eye as I tried to determine what he was.

Violet eyes meant Hybrid. Most likely Half-Demon. Born of human women and sired by demon possessed humans. There were some of the most common of the supernatural race and caused the vast majority of the problems for our community.

It was in their making, the demonic energy that left them with a power of their own, a shadow of the power of their sire, but leaving them more than human. With that power came a natural leaning towards chaos and violence.

For some it would be fighting and general unpleasantness, for others it would lead them to rape and murder and the worst crimes against children. They were half-a-monster, and all too many of them gave up any desire to control those dark urges.

I wondered whereabouts on that spectrum of evil he lay as I watched him.

"Kenny," he said, inclining his head in mock greeting when it became clear I wasn't going to talk. "You?"

I remained silent and he scoffed.

"Come now. You refuse to show your eyes, and your name too. There is a limit to how much rudeness I will accept."

"Emma," I muttered.

"A pleasure."

His grin suggested otherwise.

"Why won't you leave this be?" I asked as we turned into an alley that ran past the back of a row of terraced houses.

He remained silent but it didn't matter. I knew the answer anyway. I was something new, something unexpected and unknown. There was value in that and if he couldn't use me to bring himself money or power, then he would use my body.

I was rapidly learning just what type of monster he was, even without knowing his power.

Can't say I liked what I was learning either.

"This is me." He waved at a wooden gate set into a high brick wall. The green paint peeling and faded.

Pushing the gate open, he gestured for me to go ahead of him into the rubbish strewn enclosed garden. I picked my way past the discarded children's toys and black bin bags stuffed with old rubbish.

The smell of stale piss assaulted my senses and there were empty bottles and beer cans littering the floor below the upstairs window.

Kenny brushed past me, and I recoiled, the scent of sulphur leaking from him told me his power was held tight.

Not a total fool then.

"No one will disturb us," he said as he unlocked the door. "Junkies next door are out scoring. No one in the other side."

That wasn't exactly reassuring, and I swallowed back the bile that threatened to spill out as I glanced around at the nearby houses. If anyone was in, they weren't watching out their windows. No one to see me enter the house.

Kenny laughed.

"Don't worry, no one can see you."

Odd wording, but it brought with it understanding.

Invisibilis. Translated, it meant unseen, or not visible. His power was invisibility and as he brought me, and no doubt many others before me, to his home, he was using his powers to hide us from view.

No witnesses.

What would that power do to someone? Knowing they could do whatever they wanted, and no one would ever witness it? What damage to his psyche, to a mind already infected with those chaotic urges, knowing that no one could prove he did anything because they couldn't see their attacker?

A sickening feeling began as I knew what fate was instore for me.

If I let it happen.

Shaking my head sorrowfully, I followed him inside to a filthy kitchen. Grease stained the cabinet doors, and the worktop was covered in crumbs and spilt food.

A chip pan sat on the oven top, and beside it a frying pan filled with congealed grease. I wrinkled my nose at the odour and tried not to touch anything as I walked past the sink filled to overflowing with plates and cups, and into the hallway then through to the living room.

It was marginally cleaner, though the threadbare carpet hadn't seen a vacuum in some time, and I doubted that the surfaces had ever been wiped with a cloth, let alone with polish.

"Drink?" Kenny asked as he waved me towards the sofa. I shook my head and sank onto the upholstered cushions.

Not a chance in hell I would eat or drink anything produced in the cess pit of a house.

Kenny opened a cabinet and poured a generous measure of cheap brandy into a tumbler before coming over to join me. He settled beside me and took a sip before leaning back, half-turning so that he could face me.

I turned my head to him.

"So," he said. "Tell me now, what are you?"

I shook my head as I sighed. "What does it matter? It won't benefit you to know."

"Anyone so determined to hide what they are, has a reason," he said, sipping his drink. "Usually because they're valuable to someone else."

That hit too close for comfort. 

"How much do you think the covens would pay for you?"

My eyes fixed on his as I glared, but he met mine evenly as he just flashed that idiotic grin that I was growing to really dislike.

A low rumble sounded from my stomach and his eyes flicked down as he laughed. "You want me to get you something to eat?"

"Maybe later," I muttered.

"Yeah, good idea," he said, leaning closer, his grin predatory. "Let's work up an appetite first."

His eyes glowed with a violet light that no human could ever see, and I flinched.

"You don't want to do this," I warned.

"Come on," he said, throwing back his drink and setting aside the tumbler. "You knew what it meant when you came here. This is going to happen, and then you'll tell me everything."

He leaned in, his arm slipping around my shoulders possessively as he pulled me to him, burying his face against my neck as he nuzzled me. I recoiled and his grip tightened, his free hand gripping my arm before I could raise it.

"Don't," I whispered, my stomach doing flips and my heart racing with fear of what was to come. "Please."

"Shhh," he whispered, his hand releasing my arm as it slipped down to my thigh. "This can be fun for us both… if you let it."

I squirmed, pulling away from him but he held me tight. Fear clawed at my throat, and beneath it, a burning anger that was threatening to become a conflagration. A roaring fury that would sweep away everything I was as I lost control.

"You don't want to do this!"

His fingers dug into my hair, yanking my head to the side. His breath was hot against my skin as his tongue slid across my neck. The revulsion hit like a wave, followed by something deeper. A spark of rage catching fire.

"I'll do what I want," he said, breath hot on my neck.

"No," I whispered, almost sadly. "You won't."

His scream filled the room as I snapped his wrist in one quick movement, and it was his turn to pull away. It was too late though. I could feel the darkness filling my vision, and knew my eyes would be a black so total that it would reflect nothing as it devoured all light.

In an instant, he disappeared, and I surged to my feet.

Bloody wonderful!

The door began to open, and I slipped a hand beneath the edge of the coffee table, lifting and throwing it all in one smooth motion.

It crashed against something I couldn't see beside the opening door, and there came a shriek of pain as Kenny flickered back into visibility. I was on him in an instant, hands wrapping around his throat as I stared into his eyes.

He was a head taller than me, and half-again as wide. His arms as wide around as my thighs and it meant nothing. He lashed out, fists landing blows against my head and shoulders. I didn't feel them. I couldn't feel them.

I was numb, my flesh grey, cold and dead, the darkness inside of me a gnawing pit of emptiness devouring all that was life and living.

His face began to redden, his tongue sticking out, eyes widening as they filled with the realisation that he was about to die.

"How many!" I snapped, staring into those eyes with my own dark vision. "How many women have you brought back here? How many did what you wanted, whether they chose to or not?"

He didn't answer, but that didn't matter. I could read it in those eyes, staring deep into his soul. It was as stained and tattered as my own.

Rapist.

Abuser.

Murderer.

Not that it mattered. Not then. Not when hunger tore at me. Like a starving man holding a steak. There was nothing I could do to stop myself.

I opened my mouth and lunged, teeth sinking into his cheek as I bit down, tearing at the flesh. The metallic taste of blood filling my mouth as I began to chew, and Kenny died beneath my hands.