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He walked fluidly, as if he was gliding through the world in slow motion. When he moved, it was as if no one could see him. It wasnt so much fast, as much as graceful. He shifted from foot to foot, sliding out of the way of people's shoulders and arms. If you werent in their way, blocking them from their destination, no one even noticed you, he thought. It was actually a little sad, the way people went through life with blinders on. They couldnt even fathom what was passing by them, not knowing that any moment could be their last. He relished this, he loved this. They were his for the taking. What better way to war against his worthless creator than to destroy his "greatest gift" to the world; people. They were his cattle, he was the wolf at their door.

The subway doors opened as he broke out into the air of an approaching morning. He could just see the dawn breaking over the horizon. He needed to get home, and he needed to get there quickly. Sometimes he would stay out until the tip of the spreading sunlight reached close to his feet. Then he would extend his hand into the light, feeling the sweetness that was pain.....exquisite. He moved swiftly now, very quickly, ducking in and out of different alleyways that made up the veritable plumbing of the great city. He reached the door just before sunruse had reached it, and escaped into the darkness of the stairwell. He followed the stairs up the windowless column until he reached the top floor, an expansive studio apartment with broad glass windows overlooking the city.

Heavy burgundy curtains made of thick velvet hung over the windows, covering the entire east wall. It was a sanctuary. His sanctuary. There were coaches, chairs, and rugs spread throughout, giving the apartment a cozy feel, but he needed to sleep and none of those would do. He made his way to the center of the room, which was devoid of furniture, and where the carpets and rugs didnt reach. The exposed hardwood sat in shafts below him. The only thing breaking the plain were eight small holes that looked to be just worn in the floor over time. The floor boards were waiting for the proper hand to divulge the secret hidden below. He slid his fingers into the holes and in a slow and nimble movement, pressed the boards down and across, through his legs, exposing his quarters for the next twelve hours. Seemingly cut into the floor was a velvet lined, padded compartment, spacious in its entirety, with goose down pillows. It was the most comfortable place he had ever slept it, but then again it should be. He built it himself.

He lowered into the compartment, the bed that he had created, and layed back into the plush comfort he remembered so well from the many nights before. He slid his fingers back through the holes in the floor from the opposite side and slid the boards back into place, concealing himself from the outside world. The compartment was cozy, and he knew that in no time, he would be resting. He thought about the night's events and licked his tongue accross the expanse of his jagged teeth. He was missing one, but no matter. It would be replaced by the row behind, once again completeing the neverending cycle of death bringers that filled his deadly aperture. He closed his eyes and settled in for the day, which to him, was a neverending night.