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He licked his lips, and noticed the all too uncomfortable taste was still there. Strangely metallic, and still warm, the taste of his last meal still lingered in him. A worthless white trash McDonalds woman who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, she was. And he had caught her right after she flung the large black bag into the seemingly bottomless dumpster, ending her life right then and there. He could still feel her panic, inside his head. Regret over what he had done stabbed at him, but he shook it off. After all, it was survival of the fittest for his race. He couldn’t afford to be sensitive and caring towards the humans when he was hungry.
“Pity,” He murmured to himself. It was a bad habit of his to speak to himself aloud, when he knew he should rightly keep his thoughts inside his head. “Pity poor Riley and his plight in the after life.” And then he laughed, tossing back his face to the sky.
Rain began to fall from those darkened skies. Soon, Riley found he was soaked. But the ludicrous smile didn’t vanish from his face. He had always been fond of the rain, how it could profess a variety of emotions without much effort. Sometimes, it would be gloomy and sorrowful, falling in never-ending soft showers from a lamentable sky. Other times, like now, it would be wild and reckless, coupled with flashes of white hot lightening and booming thunder. And yet, still, it could be peaceful and serene, falling from a partially sunny sky in light drizzles. Riley wished to be rain. Be that which he loved. But, he knew it was impossible. And fading away only to be replaced by a cheerful, and often mocking, sun would anger him.
As the rain grew heavier in it’s intensity, he stood up and brushed the clinging grains of sand from his pants and long coat. He had promised both Benvolio and Bartholomew that he would meet them at Mayhem after sunset. And Riley always kept his promises.
He had kept the promise to Rosalyn, after all these years. Even though in her death, his requirement to her had ended.
