Sitting in the corner of the tavern, cased in shadows, hood covering his features, head lowered, Zephyr watched and listened to everyone. He didn't have a fearsome aura like others sitting by themselves, but nobody dared approach him. Perhaps too many had made the mistake of targeting and underestimating a loner.
This tavern was full of rowdy criminals. They were all too eager to drink, gamble, and fight each other. That didn't bother the Slinktail, who once despised being in public because of bullying or putting up with customers in his part-time jobs.
Yet here he was- new life, new me, and all that bollocks.
Zephyr lifted the tankard of ale up to his lips, relatively relaxed, considering he was the only Slinktail, and if his cover was blown, he wouldn't be left alone then. Lowering the drink, he tapped his gloved finger to the table, head tilting slightly to those of a table nearby.
"Did you hear? Slinktails escaped in Bouier."
" 'ow the fuck did they manage that?"
"I dunno, but get this…" The man beckoned the others closer as they hunched over on the table, clutching their drinks. "The guards turned up dead. One was even gutted alive."
"Monsters," one hissed, glaring into his drink.
"That shit happens all the time," another brushed it off.
"Don't get too cocky, Lee. They're still demons at the end of the day. If the empire didn't keep them under wraps… We'd be fucked," the first man who informed them about the escaped Slinktails rebuked.
"This ain't good. It's been happening a lot. If it continues… You know those fucks, the enforcers are gonna come here."
"They'd come and make sure the demons aren't rising up against us, e-diot." The man hiccupped after prodding his friend on the chest. "No way they'll come 'ere."
"They're enforcers, though," another pointed out.
Zephyr sipped his ale again. Enforcers huh? Is that who Dain was worrying about?
The Slinktail listened some more while watching others in the bar. One man in particular kept catching his eye. He focused on the conversation this man was having with his friend, smirking as he kept looking at a barmaid's chest.
"She can't stop looking at me…"
Zephyr rolled his eyes. He'd sensed that the guy was trouble; all of them were, but something else stood out about this one. If it was him perving on a woman, he didn't give a damn. How boring. Moving on-
"I'll jump her when she gets her next break."
"Jump her?" the other man snickered. "I thought you said she couldn't stop looking at you."
Zephyr's gaze snapped back on the man, eyeing him. He had to be in his mid-forties, at least twenty years older than the barmaid, who looked like she could hold her own ground, especially working in a place like this. But the man was big bellied, with a large frame, his jacket stretching tightly over his back, shoulders and arms.
His friend was skinny, somehow wearing something similar to shorts, boots and a furry coat, a mismatched assemble revealing his twig legs full of scars and fricken track marks. He was a drug abuser of what he didn't know.
The skinny friend watched the big guy nervously. Was he the 'Slinktail' to the big guy?
Zephyr quickly moved on, ignoring them and the memories trying to flood his mind from his first life.
He actively sought out others, gathering any additional information that could benefit him. His heightened senses proved advantageous. Zephyr wasn't 100% sure he had them until he sat down in this tavern. Once he locked onto a person far away beyond his former human limitations, he could discern their conversation with acute precision as though he'd zoomed in on them like in a movie.
Gulping down the last of his ale, Zephyr stood, watching as the big guy from the bar was on the move, following a few steps behind the petite barmaid from before. There was nothing else to do here anyway. Winding through the patrons with ease, he left through the front doors onto an empty street.
Zephyr rounded the tavern after focusing on the footfall of steps followed by a muffled cry. Shifting his hand to the blades on his belt, he walked to the back alley where tracks in the snow revealed someone had been dragged through it. When he rounded another corner in an even quieter part of the back alleys, Zephyr discovered the big guy holding the barmaid to the wall, a large hand gripping her face, the other hand fumbling to unbuckle his pants.
Perfect time for a little experimentation.
Zephyr strolled forward, not bothering to sneak or remain quiet, yet the man was so eager and focused on the woman that he didn't hear him approach. In one swift move, Zephyr stabbed a knife into the man's shoulder blade, holding onto it and lithely swinging up until he was balancing on the man's shoulders and jabbed another blade into the side of his neck multiple times before.
The man's roar transformed into a gurgle, and the woman screamed at the blood spurting across her and the wall, witnessing the horror of a large man getting butchered in front of her. The more Zephyr caused the man pain, the more energised he felt. Slicing his throat, the man's body went limp, falling forward.
Zephyr leaned back, forcing the man to fall backwards instead of flattening the barmaid. He hopped off as snow puffed up from the man's dead weight. Zephyr watched in fascination as the blood pooled by the man's head and the humming of energy slithered around him.
He wasn't injured, nor was he fatigued, so what else did this darkness do, or did he test his limits? No, this felt different. The more he killed, the less he cared.
Zephyr glanced at the barmaid that was still pressed against the wall, blood coating her features, eyes wide and breathing heavily. He turned his back on her and started to leave. Neither of them had been quiet, whether these were the back alleys or not, people were bound to come out and if they tried to identify him then things could get worse.
The sound of rushed footfall alerted him to someone approaching him; he spun around, bloodied dagger raised, pausing short of the barmaid's face. With a wobbling lower lip, she blurted out, "T-thank you!" Then, a gasp escaped her lips.
It had been darker when that man tried to assault her, and in his attack, Zephyr's hood fell down, revealing what he was. The gratefulness bled from her cheeks as she paled, stepping back from the demon.
Zephyr didn't say another word, lifting his hood over his features and darting down another alleyway before another scream alerted the neighbourhood. He disappeared from sight, his footprints stopping before a dead end.