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tamingthemuseTitle: Criminal
Fandom: The Crow
Prompt: #1 Pickpocket
Warnings: None
Rating: Teen
Summary: Eric Draven spends the night looking for new prey.
It was dark and muggy in the city, so black and sticky it was nearly oppressive. Despite that, the streets were full of people. The city faire may have sounded like a good idea to the people who wanted to make money, but it was also a perfect breeding ground for crime.
Eric moved within the crowd, silently blending in with the smiling couples and groups of giggling teenagers while remaining distinctly separate from it. No one gave him a second look. Why would they? He made sure to be quiet, surreptitious, nondescript. No one would see him and if they did, they wouldn't remember.
It was what his existence was now. He was a shadow, come and gone with the light of day.
A couple bumped into him accidentally and the young woman apologized without turning around; too much drink and too much in love to care who she'd trampled upon.
Eric didn't mind, at least not much. He remembered the euphoria that love gave, and missed it. But his love was taken away, destroyed by evil. And he, in turn, made that evil suffer.
That was why they were eternally divided, never to be reunited again. Shelly had earned her reward, her rest and she took it. But Eric could not join her. He had seen the evil that surrounded him every day, the evil that killed him and his love.
He called it humanity.
So now Eric walked the earth, alive but not, hunting evil and seeking his vengeance against it.
But vengeance didn't pay well and Eric had needs. He didn't have to eat to survive but food was a comfort, so he ate when he could. Clothes had to be replaced often. Eric's flesh might easily repair itself, but fabric did not, and the immortal quickly learned that it was difficult to remain anonymous walking around half naked.
So he looked around, hunting his prey for the night. Quickly spotted, Eric smiled as he fell in step behind the slightly balding man. Well into his forties, the starch stiff jeans and ink black leather jacket screamed desperation as the hunted tried to impress the twenty-something he was escorting. She giggled and tossed her chemically processed hair and teeter on her platform heels as she figured out creative ways to spend his money; money he no doubt should have been spending on his wife and kids.
Perfect.
Finding an empty beer bottle abandoned on the street, Eric swiped it up in his long, musician's fingers, dangling it precariously between forefinger and thumb. He crashed into the couple, laughing as they all stumbled and threatened to tumble to the pavement.
Eric straightened up, helping to steady the man on his feet before turning to the girl, apologizing with a goofy smile on his face. The girl giggled and flipped her hair, telling the young dead man not to worry while the annoyed man cursed under his breath before steering his date quickly away.
Slipping into the shadows, Eric surveyed his take. Seven hundred eighty two dollars. Nice. The man must have had an exciting evening planned. Too bad he'd have to go home to his wife empty handed and unfulfilled.
He tried to feel bad about taking what was not his own but he couldn't find enough guilt to truly care. He simply considered it a fee, payment, or taxes maybe, for keeping the city safe from the dregs of society that sought more than a little spending money.
A silky black crow landed on his shoulder and Eric reached up to idly stroke the soft feathers. His constant companion cawed loudly and the young dead man smiled into the night.
"Let's go get something to eat."
They debated in their own way, trying to decide between Thai and something fried on a stick as they approached the faire. Eric dropped the wallet devoid of its cash into a large blue mailbox, knowing the remains would eventually find their way home.
Eric melted into the crowd, becoming a part of it, not needing to be the savior of the night tonight. Tonight, he was just a guy with borrowed money and a bird on his shoulder.
But tomorrow, The Crow would hunt again.
Fandom: The Crow
Prompt: #1 Pickpocket
Warnings: None
Rating: Teen
Summary: Eric Draven spends the night looking for new prey.
It was dark and muggy in the city, so black and sticky it was nearly oppressive. Despite that, the streets were full of people. The city faire may have sounded like a good idea to the people who wanted to make money, but it was also a perfect breeding ground for crime.
Eric moved within the crowd, silently blending in with the smiling couples and groups of giggling teenagers while remaining distinctly separate from it. No one gave him a second look. Why would they? He made sure to be quiet, surreptitious, nondescript. No one would see him and if they did, they wouldn't remember.
It was what his existence was now. He was a shadow, come and gone with the light of day.
A couple bumped into him accidentally and the young woman apologized without turning around; too much drink and too much in love to care who she'd trampled upon.
Eric didn't mind, at least not much. He remembered the euphoria that love gave, and missed it. But his love was taken away, destroyed by evil. And he, in turn, made that evil suffer.
That was why they were eternally divided, never to be reunited again. Shelly had earned her reward, her rest and she took it. But Eric could not join her. He had seen the evil that surrounded him every day, the evil that killed him and his love.
He called it humanity.
So now Eric walked the earth, alive but not, hunting evil and seeking his vengeance against it.
But vengeance didn't pay well and Eric had needs. He didn't have to eat to survive but food was a comfort, so he ate when he could. Clothes had to be replaced often. Eric's flesh might easily repair itself, but fabric did not, and the immortal quickly learned that it was difficult to remain anonymous walking around half naked.
So he looked around, hunting his prey for the night. Quickly spotted, Eric smiled as he fell in step behind the slightly balding man. Well into his forties, the starch stiff jeans and ink black leather jacket screamed desperation as the hunted tried to impress the twenty-something he was escorting. She giggled and tossed her chemically processed hair and teeter on her platform heels as she figured out creative ways to spend his money; money he no doubt should have been spending on his wife and kids.
Perfect.
Finding an empty beer bottle abandoned on the street, Eric swiped it up in his long, musician's fingers, dangling it precariously between forefinger and thumb. He crashed into the couple, laughing as they all stumbled and threatened to tumble to the pavement.
Eric straightened up, helping to steady the man on his feet before turning to the girl, apologizing with a goofy smile on his face. The girl giggled and flipped her hair, telling the young dead man not to worry while the annoyed man cursed under his breath before steering his date quickly away.
Slipping into the shadows, Eric surveyed his take. Seven hundred eighty two dollars. Nice. The man must have had an exciting evening planned. Too bad he'd have to go home to his wife empty handed and unfulfilled.
He tried to feel bad about taking what was not his own but he couldn't find enough guilt to truly care. He simply considered it a fee, payment, or taxes maybe, for keeping the city safe from the dregs of society that sought more than a little spending money.
A silky black crow landed on his shoulder and Eric reached up to idly stroke the soft feathers. His constant companion cawed loudly and the young dead man smiled into the night.
"Let's go get something to eat."
They debated in their own way, trying to decide between Thai and something fried on a stick as they approached the faire. Eric dropped the wallet devoid of its cash into a large blue mailbox, knowing the remains would eventually find their way home.
Eric melted into the crowd, becoming a part of it, not needing to be the savior of the night tonight. Tonight, he was just a guy with borrowed money and a bird on his shoulder.
But tomorrow, The Crow would hunt again.
