The state of the city meant nothing to Eureka. The rift, the politics, the soldiers and the hunters and the cops, the increased security, it barely touched the redhead. In fact, she barely even noticed it, until one night it occurred to her that the zombies were no longer contained within the walls they had once been contained within. This meant nothing to the woman who decided she could have a little fun with them now without having to crawl through sewers to do so.
Eureka had never learned about the rift or what that meant for her, necessarily. She had some inkling that it was the reason why she’d been able to come back from the dead, but she knew this on an instinctual level – as if she had a sixth sense, and could feel the energy that the rift exuded, and that it got weaker if she left the city, and stronger the closer she got to what was the Quarantine Zone.
As close as the Casino was to the Quarantine Zone, Eureka liked to meander. She didn’t stick to one part of the city. And besides, it didn’t matter where she went to sleep for the day, she’d always wake up on that same rooftop – the one that Chad had turned her on. The apartment below it was empty now, though Eureka couldn’t understand the way that made her feel. Detached, in a way. A sane and normal person might have understood it as sadness, but Eureka didn’t have the same feelings and emotions as a regular human. Deep down, perhaps, it contributed to her actions since she’d returned from the Shadow Realm. Where she’d been a ragged mess before, more animal than human, now she was worse.
Like a cat, she did groom herself every now and again, to the best of her ability without a shower or a bathtub. It had rained the night before and she’d rubbed some of the dirt from her skin and pushed her fingers through her hair; but that hair was still knotted and tied haphazardly in a messy bun on the top of her head. Her feet were bare and the souls were near black, roughened by the city streets. She wore a shirt that might have belonged to one of her former victims; a men’s shirt, white, the buttons undone at her neck and the fabric falling to just above her knees. She’d wear nothing if she was able to. At least this way she was merely mistaken for someone homeless rather than as a crazy person.
She approached the bar from the shadows; there was music coming from inside; there was the sound of glass smashing, laughter mixed with shouting, thunder, like a body hitting the floor. A lone man stumbled out of the front door, blood pouring from his nose. He looked angry, like someone who’d just wanted a quiet drink but had got involved in someone else’s fight – a fight that continued inside.
Eureka didn’t miss a beat as she approached the lone man, who’d pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, intending to light one. She smiled as him as she approached, which earned her an arch of a brow. She didn’t slow down. When she got close enough she sidled up to him, her hand at his hip. His arms lifted up and out of the way; he was confused by this dirty woman with her dazzling smile, not sure whether to be repulsed or excited. But he had done what Eureka had hoped he would. He had opened himself up to her. The gentle nuzzle she’d initiated was now a claw-and-cling; she had her fingers clenched in his hair and her canines sunk deep into flesh before he could even react. Like a leech, she clung to him, and would not let go until she had had her fill.
Eureka had never learned about the rift or what that meant for her, necessarily. She had some inkling that it was the reason why she’d been able to come back from the dead, but she knew this on an instinctual level – as if she had a sixth sense, and could feel the energy that the rift exuded, and that it got weaker if she left the city, and stronger the closer she got to what was the Quarantine Zone.
As close as the Casino was to the Quarantine Zone, Eureka liked to meander. She didn’t stick to one part of the city. And besides, it didn’t matter where she went to sleep for the day, she’d always wake up on that same rooftop – the one that Chad had turned her on. The apartment below it was empty now, though Eureka couldn’t understand the way that made her feel. Detached, in a way. A sane and normal person might have understood it as sadness, but Eureka didn’t have the same feelings and emotions as a regular human. Deep down, perhaps, it contributed to her actions since she’d returned from the Shadow Realm. Where she’d been a ragged mess before, more animal than human, now she was worse.
Like a cat, she did groom herself every now and again, to the best of her ability without a shower or a bathtub. It had rained the night before and she’d rubbed some of the dirt from her skin and pushed her fingers through her hair; but that hair was still knotted and tied haphazardly in a messy bun on the top of her head. Her feet were bare and the souls were near black, roughened by the city streets. She wore a shirt that might have belonged to one of her former victims; a men’s shirt, white, the buttons undone at her neck and the fabric falling to just above her knees. She’d wear nothing if she was able to. At least this way she was merely mistaken for someone homeless rather than as a crazy person.
She approached the bar from the shadows; there was music coming from inside; there was the sound of glass smashing, laughter mixed with shouting, thunder, like a body hitting the floor. A lone man stumbled out of the front door, blood pouring from his nose. He looked angry, like someone who’d just wanted a quiet drink but had got involved in someone else’s fight – a fight that continued inside.
Eureka didn’t miss a beat as she approached the lone man, who’d pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, intending to light one. She smiled as him as she approached, which earned her an arch of a brow. She didn’t slow down. When she got close enough she sidled up to him, her hand at his hip. His arms lifted up and out of the way; he was confused by this dirty woman with her dazzling smile, not sure whether to be repulsed or excited. But he had done what Eureka had hoped he would. He had opened himself up to her. The gentle nuzzle she’d initiated was now a claw-and-cling; she had her fingers clenched in his hair and her canines sunk deep into flesh before he could even react. Like a leech, she clung to him, and would not let go until she had had her fill.
