WHO: Arden and Sparrow WHERE: Ghoul Nest WHAT: First meet. WHEN: Friday afternoon of May 29th at 2:48 PM. STATUS: Complete
It was dank, dark, and rancid.
A distinct odor of rot and decay could be smelled in the air. It was putrid, but it was also confined to the more crowded areas of the subway. She had past those sections a long time ago, yet its stench — albeit slightly more subdued — lingered. Drogati were such filthy, little stronzi. They should feel so fortunate she didn't kill them on sight.
The soft taps of her boots reverberated against the hollowed tunnel walls as she walked in the center of the railway tracks. It was growing more and more desolate the further she went, but still not far enough for complete isolation. There were fewer people now, groups made up of six at most. They clung closely together, tense and wary.
She was alone, true to her nature. Her bodyguard had insisted on accompanying her while she scoped out the surrounding area, but she had far more important tasks for him to complete. She didn't need the protection. Never did. He knew it, but he worried. It was a wasted emotion. But, as much as he protested, he always conceded to her commands.
Intimidation was best done in groups, or at least that was the prevalent ideal here. A young woman all by herself was a tempting victim. She could feel their eyes on her, watching her move past them. They were wild with hunger and greed. They wanted what was hers. It was a simple matter of cornering her. Then, what was hers would naturally belong to them.
A party of five against one. It hardly seemed fair. She could hear them creeping up behind her. It wasn't her first confrontation and it wouldn't be her last. She had no desire to kill when she'd entered, but she couldn't be blamed if idioti tossed their lives at her feet. No responsibility could be held against her. They only had themselves to blame.
Five more dropped dead, becoming new additions to the growing number of faceless, nameless corpses in the subway. She was going to have to clean her daggers now. The thought only irritated her as she stepped over the body in her way. She needed to find her territory before her patience ran out. One of her hands had already found a comfortable place at the hilt of a sheathed knife hooked to her side. It was never a good sign.
But she calmly continued down the rubble path anyway.