Asaryn
Sometimes you would see him in the streets, alone, back to a wall, hands shoved in pockets as he watched the world whirl by. To a stranger he would seem arrogant, perhaps even rude. Never once would he return a hello, and rarely did he meet any one's eyes -but if he did, for even the briefest moment, the well meaning smile would disappear from the person's face immediately as they rushed to flee the boy with the tortured gaze.
It was the eyes, she concluded. The way they shone under the harsh fluorescents, leaking frantic tears as the vile creature desperately curled away from her touch -it was almost enough to make her reconsider what she was about to do. They seemed familiar, unsettlingly so. But then she remembered the tears weren't real. She saw past the monster's fake emotions to its faintly glowing eyes and green blood, to the fangs and claws and deadly glint of cunning flicking just beyond its tears. She picked up her scalpel, willing her hand to stop shaking, and began lowering it towards the creature's chest. But even after the being's thrashing ceased, she couldn't help but wonder who was truly the prisoner here.