Chapter 1
Everyone has smiles on their face, have you ever noticed?
Even that girl, who says she has the best ‘resting bitch face’ on the planet and goes around saying ‘fml’. When the cashier says: “Is that everything?” She will still flash that awkward smile and go, “yeah thanks.”
The grumpy old man sat at the corner of the road reading his magazine, will still smirk that little smile watching the little boy trotting down the road, pulling faces, hand in hand with his absent mother.
The builder, grubby as hell in his ditched work boots, covered in sweat, still cracks a grin when the clock strikes at the end of his long days’ labour.
The Queen, you even see her at it, every so often, in a newspaper clipping that should never have been aired.
Walking down the dark streets of London, with all its modern vigour. I don’t smile. I never smile. It’s not because I am unfriendly, I find myself hilarious quite frankly… I just don’t like my smile. Come to think of it… Not many do.
Continuing my walk, I pull up my long black trench coat collar. My pointed toe heels clipping the pavement perfectly, making that loud ‘tik-tik’ clicking sound that once I would have found embarrassing. But no more. Now, I love it, it has perhaps become my most favourite devices. For hunting.
Not far in front of me, is a buzzing lamp and an archway into the buildings, dark and cold. The wind whipped my red hair from my shoulders, and in that beautiful breeze I smell it. Delicious as the day they sinned.
I turn around the corner and there a dark silhouette of a man, a flat cap and with a rather adorable long coat on to protect him from the wintery bluster. The end of his cigar was lit hell fire red in all the black, and slowly I approached, stalking forward.
Men, are in fact, rather timid creatures when faced with certain things, death…women…confronting their own faults and fears. However, the man with dark black eyes, stared upon my curvaceous figure and pursed, tightly shut ruby red lips, through wisps of delicate black curls, as I flutter my eyelashes and then, bold as brass, he began to speak… more mutter if you will.
“Darlin’ you’d look so much prettier if you gave me a smile…”
“Ha, my darling, do you start every interview the same way?” I said, with a big wide grin.
The man who was so bold before, let out a horrific shriek that pierced through the city.
