My entrance confuses it.
My existence dumbfounds it.
Its cold black eyes follow my movements. I can feel its heart beat. I can hear the blood coursing through its veins. It knows I do not belong.
“Nice doggie.” I say as I reach down to pet its head. It growls slightly, showing a few teeth I tiptoe past it reaching up and taking what clothes I need from the line. It does not move. Somehow it knows. I take a pair of blue jeans, and a white shirt. The clothes are a little small, but they will have to do. Now where to find some shoes?
It’s funny, no matter how many times I have done this; my first instincts are always the same. Clothes, food, shelter, I suppose it’s only natural-survival. All creatures have survival instincts to some extent that is why I do this.
I step from between the buildings, glass and needles crunch beneath my feet. It’s starting to rain, it feels good. I wonder what time of year it is. I wonder what year it is. I catch a glimpse of my new face in the reflection of some store front window. My skin is dark, black like the obsidian night which spawned me. My head is bald and smooth; I rub my hand over it puzzled by my striking features. I’m around 6’4”/6’5”, muscular build with a much defined chest. The most striking feature however my lips are. Full and rose colored, they offset my eyes which are narrow and dark.
I’m snapped out of my reflection by children racing past me. They zoom by laughing in the night. I spin around slowly and gaze out at the city. It’s bustling, even at this hour. Neon lights illuminate the sidewalks. Men and women of all ages, busy themselves scurrying about in and out of buildings. Some puff nervously on cigarettes while others scream into tiny phones. The rain is light, but couples huddle under umbrellas as they dart across the busy streets, dodging cabs and big black vehicles that move like monsters. Signs advertising sex and live jazz flicker in the distance, I look around for something to eat.
I notice an all night drug store across the street. I make my way over stepping bare foot into the cold filthy road. One of the black behemoths slams on its brakes, it’s owner yells obscenities from the window, shaking his fist madly in the air. I give him a stern glance and he recoils like the dog he too knows he is.
I enter the store dripping water of my wet jeans. I find what I need. I remove several of the small cylinders from their casing and consume them. An elderly oriental woman yells at me in Cantonese from the end of the isle.
“You can’t do that!” she screams “You pay now, you pay Now!”
I smile and nod, and continue to eat, the warm energy flowing through me. Slowly replacing all that the trip has took from me. It is a small meal but a good one.
“You Pay now!!!” The old woman still chants shaking her fist at me. I turn to give her a glare that will incinerate her where she stands, when two younger men burst into the store front. They both brandish crude weapons; one pointing at the store clerk behind the counter (a small Asian man younger than the old woman but still elderly by the standards of your people), his thin white hair barely clinging to his head. The other notices me and the woman and aim squarely at us.
“No heroes-brotha!” He says. His tone is gruff and full of false bravo. He is young I can sense the nervousness and fear in him. I move towards him slowly.
“Nobody needs to die tonight-no heroes.” He repeated, and then fired his weapon. I caught the projectile, absorbing its energy, becoming stronger, quicker. His partner becomes scared, yelling for the man behind the counter to give him money. Another projectile flew from the gun aimed at me. I catch it in my other hand. The thief screamed and ran out the door. His partner stood still, trying desperately to finish the job. I move past the old woman with deft speed and grab is weapon hand.