waking nightmare
TAG: Gerwald Lechner
The city was ripe with opportunity. Many a corporation had seen its headquarters built here - almost a rite of passage for some. Proof they'd made it in the business world. But corporate greed wasn't the only thing that lurked in the nooks and crannies. The city was ripe with danger just as much as it was the opportunity for financial success. For wherever fortune paved its way, ruin followed.
It had been months - years? - since death given form had mingled with the likes of civilized society for more than a bite. Time had lost meaning - reduced only to hunting time and rest. There was no need for social calls, no hot trends to jump on, all fell obsolete in the face of pure, unchecked hunger. The shadows were his ally, the back alleys his hunting ground. His prey, any who caught him at the right time, the livelier the better in his book. The stronger the soup, the sweeter the taste.
A ping of technology, a relic nearly forgotten, grabbed his attention at the tail end of a meal - an admin assistant who'd missed the old sayings about talking to strangers. The hunter greeted the metallic noise with a snarl, turning his attention back to his meal and, finding them finished, letting the corpse unceremoniously topple. His prey had earned his most attentive esteem for the soup they provided, an esteem that vanished the moment they became an empty bowl.
The ping persisted. The Waking Nightmare was far from gentle as he fiddled with the device, the ghost of memories trying to slink to the forefront of his mind and place its purpose, thoughts clouded by the never-ending call to feast. A summoning? A banquet. A location? New hunting ground. Old allies? Fresh prey. Oh yes, he'd meet these relics of an old age. But first, a bite.