He walked into the room and saw exactly what he expected to see.
He sight that met his eyes was as grim as he had predicted. Maybe three or more bodies strewn across the room, like wrapping paper after Christmas or a birthday. He walked deeper into the room and began his analysis. The rooms new gruesome decor suggested four bodies, one woman, three men.
Careful not to touch anything, the man stepped over a way wood leg and crouched down beside the torso of one of the unfortunate victims. Classic style. She had a weakness for a gory show. The computer screen dater base flashed up before his eyes and once again as he assessed and stored every detail of the room with a photo graphic memory. A rustle at the door pulled the man out of his musing with a powerful lurch. It was the old lady peering around the door, fresh tears running their way down her face, leaving sparkling tracks. She surveyed the disturbing scene with abject horror, paralysed in shock.
âIâ the old lady crocked and tried again. âIs it her?â the old ladyâs eyes flickered to the manâs face, to the torso beside him and back. âI canât bring myself to look to closely.â The man, still crouched perfectly balanced, like a big cat or stone, shook his head slowly, perfect poker face, completely indifferent to the old ladyâs strife.
âHow can you be sure?â
âBecause Eve had red hair, this is clearly blond he said, coolly picking Â up half a head by its matted hair, high so the old lady could see. She wobbled but court herself immediately. She gave the man not a scared look but a powerfully cold and sombre stare, eyes milky yellow but sharp!
â Â I am very old.Â I was around when the very first of our kind came along. Do you know what you lot all had in common? You were hated by everybody, total outcasts, you still areâ
The man stood up and advanced on the shrived old lady.
âYouâre precious Eve was not the victim here but the villain!â
The old ladyâs strong facade faltered for a split second and the snapped back into place.
âthe eve you thought you knew does not exist, let me assure you of this I may be hated but it is me who is called to clean up your kinds filthy mess, atrocities like this!âWith that he brushed past the woman and headed down the dark dank corridor.
He exited the house and walked down the street to the long, low black car that waited it.
Dam, he thought, I shouldnât have touched the head. Dam his streak for dramatics. Â He turned the engine on, and the explosion shook the hole street as the car erupted into a ball of flames.