The cobblestone streets were wet from yesterday's rain. With every step, the damp clicking of liquid sounded from gathered water in the shallow depressions between each stone.
Click, click, click.
Pariah's shoes repeated the light clicking of low audible steps. His dark eyes swept across his surroundings. A horseless carriage was parked alongside the sidewalk, another only half a street down on the opposing side. The windows of homes revealed darkened rooms all vacant of families. Few revealed clues of the happiness that once was. Pariah never batted an eye. The empathy of a loving family was missing from his memories. The young man from the clock tower continued down the street under grey clouds keeping his wits about him. An eerie silence lingered between quiet breaths. A drenched newspaper lay stuck to the sidewalk, its contents face up for the world to see.
Click, click, click.
The sound of dress shoes innocently kissing the paved sidewalk slowed to a halt. The wind blew gently and the man bent over picking up the wrinkled newspaper with his right hand by its corner, gently peeling it back not wanting to tear the first clue. Pried from its paved embrace the paper hung lifeless in Pariah's hands.
-September 25th, ACN. (Ahrengale City News)
Dear citizens of the City of Ahrengale, after the recent rampant increase in crime, home invasions, numerous assaults, vandalism, and murders the town hall has officially decided to shut down South Borough for the safety of all law-abiding citizens. Due to the ongoing pursuit of the Butcher, we advise extreme caution for those who must cross near South Borough's border to get to Portland District for employment, as well as goods and services.
County fair!
Are you tired of everyday mundane life? Has work got you down? Well, don't be glum, chum! Come on up and stop on by for a magical ride suited to your delight! Next month on October 27-31st. Mr. Smiles and Mrs. Giggles travelling circus!
The newspaper succumbed to the elements and tore due to the hanging weight before Pariah could read further. Watching the paper hit the ground with a minute thud he let go of the remaining clump in his hand and looked left into the alleyway. Deliberating on whether to press forward or traverse the dark alley, a rattle followed by a brisk bang beckoned from the alley. The young man walked down the alley with haste hoping to find answers. The damp brick walls were close. Barely enough room for a man to walk through forced Pariah's arms to hug his sides. Reaching the corner he turned sideways and poked his head out from the edge to see a fallen silver trashcan rattling. He took three slow steps, crouched down, and reached for the handle with his left hand... and yanked away the cover! Fat rats scurried out zooming down the alley into another side street. The young man watched without reaction, standing up, he walked the alley until it brought him back out to the main road where a toppled carriage lay lopsided. Stopping in his tracks he scrutinized following his approach. He examined the inside to find nobody nor personal belongings. He looped back to find nothing besides the aberrant situation when he noticed the reins had been rent asunder. Giving his surroundings a cursory glance beforehand, he crouched and studied the tear carefully.
Forceful. What would have caused the horses to react with such aggression?
Pariah's heart thumped, his mouth salivated slightly, and the pallid sleeve quivered. He averted his gaze up to his left to the top of a building only to find nothing. Watching blankly for a moment he felt the weak tremble of The Remission subside.
I was being watched.
Pariah looked to the intersection ahead leaving the carriage behind. An idea formulating in his mind his steps quickened with every pace and swiftly evolved into a jog. Arriving at the four-way he took the left road trusting his instincts. After a minute of jogging, The Remission trembled weakly. He jogged until the weak tremble lessened then retraced his steps. Moving in all directions until the slightest increase in vibration, he found the track. Moving down a dark ally in a speed walk, Pariah feared not the dark. The light faded from view until all that was left were the shapes of objects from his adjusting eyes. A barrel used for fires, a couple of wooden chairs sprawled around it, and old kindling sticks snapped before the seats. The light grey sleeve of grafted flesh quivered moderately, Pariah's mouth salivated; his heart raced with a numbing heat, and his skelp tingled. Looking up abruptly no one was seen, but a soft footstep was heard. The hunt began. Pariah chased after the sound. The distance between the two increased in spurts occasionally then shortened. This could be deduced via the excitement of The Remission.
With no one to climb the buildings, Pariah sprinted down side streets, jumped over fences, and crossed through the small backyards of abandoned homes. A silhouette of a humanoid was harshly visible running above. Shifting his focus back ahead, he nearly crashed into a fence forcing him to place his right hand on top and vault over with some struggle. The game of cat and mouse continued for five minutes, Pariah began to feel his body's weight increase due to exhaustion. Huffing through it as he drew closer to his target, The Remission's quivering raged incessantly. Turning right down one final alleyway, the sleeve ached his bones. Rushing out into the muted light under grey clouded skies, Pariah reached out feeling the fire run through his arm into his chest. Hoping to grab his target, he stumbled to a halt. His curtain-swept bangs hung in his face covering one eye, the burning gone cold instantly the quivering ceased without warning.
Standing before Pariah was a man dressed in a white sports coat, a beige vest, and a flaxen button-up underneath. he wore a brown top hat with a black band. His eyes were hidden by the brim, his skin was a pale sickly yellowish-green and he had an unkempt, scruffy greying beard. The man was silent, he had not acknowledged the young man who stumbled from the alleyway for some time. As seconds turned to what felt like minutes, the young man went to take a step. Yet he froze when the stranger suddenly veered his head and looked Pariah in the eyes. An icy breath escaped him with stained grit teeth that slowly parted. A hoarse voice called out in a shriek of terror... "Sinner!" The man rushed for Pariah.
Experiencing no sense of fear, the young man jerked to the side evading the middle-aged man with ease. Answers were the one thing he wanted, and being called a 'sinner' only added to the confusion of his situation. However, something told him he would be unable to reason with the man, and fighting was not at the top of his priority list. Stepping back cautiously he watched as the middle-aged man turned to face him. "It's all your fault!" The stranger barked with animosity and a sense of sorrow whilst charging the boy in comparison.
Pariah had no choice but to retreat down the alleyway he came from narrowly missing the swing of the man's hand. Rushing through the dark his eyes needed a moment to adjust. Remembering his surroundings he lept over a piece of wood that the stranger then tripped over. Hitting the ground face first with a thud, Pariah looked back to see the man out of sight.
That doesn't make sense.
Suddenly The Remission raged hungrily but before Pariah could react he felt a foot sweep his leg and a hand bend his arm behind his back pinning him chest first to the ground. Struggling to break free his left arm was bound and the right was under him. Knelt over Pariah was a figure dressed in black making it impossible to discern. The only visibility was the contours of a rounded half of a white mask leading one to believe the other half was a darker color. Not bothering to speak, he knew the person would not let him go no matter what he said, he only resisted.
The figure gave a cursory glance but stopped when he noticed the pale skin of his target's hand. Pulling up his sleeve to see if it was grafted and stitched at the wrist the man let go.
Rolling to his feet, Pariah shook his arm feeling the pain of restriction. Examining the person's figure in the dark his eyes had adjusted making it possible to see it was a man. "Who are you?"
The man stepped closer unworriedly and cleared his throat. "I am human, but what about you? Can you say the same, sinner?"