[h2][center][color=orange]Archie[/color][/center][/h2][hr]Sometime months ago...[hr]
[i]She left quietly. It hurt worse.

Archie wishes she would have yelled. He wished she would’ve gotten in his face, shoved his chest, brought up things she knows he was trying to forget. He wanted her to say something—even if it's mean or sarcastic or biting, even if it made his hands shake from how much it upset him—just to let him know that they weren't as far gone as they were. No matter how much he willed her to speak, she didn’t say much at all. She called out goodbyes as she left and gave hellos as she entered, but it was more out of habit than anything else. She wasn’t saying hello or goodbye. Not really. He heard the sound of packaging tape more than her voice and felt her presence disappear bit by bit until there wasn’t much left at all.

Archie wakes up at 4 P.M. on a Thursday, his sleeping schedule too far off track to be fixed, and she is gone. He doesn't have to get up and check her room; doesn't have to see if her shoes are kicked off by the door; doesn't have to look and see if she has anything to come back for. He's still in his bed staring at the ceiling, trying to repair that gaping hole in his chest, and making approximately no progress.

Thinking about the way her hand squeezed his in pity— apologetic and so so wrong— evokes a wince every time he's feeling masochistic enough to relive it. There'd been nothing loud about the end of them, he muses.

Archie considers calling someone, anyone and begging for some company. He rolls over and goes back to sleep instead.[/i][hr]

The beast jumped.

The evening had been luxuriously quiet for a while now. For the first time in a while, he hadn't felt the painful ringing or flashing lights that were so common in most of his more regular stomping grounds. In the distance he could hear the distinctly familiar scream of the police sirens, and the telltale hustle and bustle of the city that was ever present even at night, but he was distant. The sound of glass breaking, while not particularly loud, jumped out in the silence of the night. He placed the garbage bag that it had been investigating back into the bin. It was around holiday season, and whatever these people had been throwing out had smelt absolutely tantalizing. He had been scavenging for the past few days, since these meals didn't fight back and were easy to find. Archie turned his head in the direction the sound came from, baring his teeth as if he was daring the sound to disturb him again. When the silence returned, he excitedly returned its attention to the garbage.

The gunshot that followed sent a shiver down Archie's spine. He recognized that sound, and dropped to all fours to survey his surroundings. This wasn't the first time he had heard that sound, and it wouldn't be the first time he had been shot at. He didn't see anything, but he smelt blood. His long flicked out of his mouth, tasting the air as to give himself direction. The irony, metallic smell was in the same direction the gunshot and smashing sounds. The sounds had garnered his attention, but this got his interest.

The reptile followed his tongue to a two story house. The scent of blood was strong now, putting him on edge and sharpening his focus. Even from the street he could hear the movements of people in the house- the creaking of the floorboards upstairs under their weight. Archie turned his attention to what was in front of him- the door was wide open. He stalked forwards, squeezing through the door and coming almost immediately upon the source of the smell he had tracked to get here. A man laid unmoving on the floor. Archie sank down to his haunches and rested his hand on the man's body. It was still warm, but he didn't hear a heartbeat or feel any telltale signs of the living. The man's life had only just been extinguished. He dragged his claws over the man's body, slipping his fingers under his arm, and flipping the man over. His clothing was stained with blood, with a dark red spot on his torso. A gunshot wound. So this was where this sound had come from.

[color=#b7b7b7]“You do realize you look ridiculous with that on your hip right?”[/color]

[color=#999999]“Hey, maybe we can try it out. It don’t need bullets.”[/color]

[color=#b7b7b7]“You’ll likely cut your own damn head off,”[/color]

Archie's head snapped up. Voices, and the rhythmic steps of their owners coming down the stairs. He stood to his full height and stepped over the body to face his company. He flicked his tongue out, and smelt the air. Two men that smelt of sweat and blood. He could smell others approaching from down the street. He cast his eyes to the body, then to the stairwell, and then to the house around him. He felt a sense of responsibility and clarity wash over him. This wasn't the street, and those there were coming didn't smell like blood and death. He couldn't risk them getting hurt, and they didn't need to see the corpse at the doorway. He needed to scare them off, deal with the intruders, and get out.

He breathed in air, and felt the muscles of his body shake as he allowed himself to let go. His body flexed as he released a primordial, inhuman roar that tore though the house and pierced the silence of the night.

[color=#b7b7b7]"What the fuck was that?"[/color]

[color=#999999]"Why dont you go check it out, samurai Jack!"[/color]

Vinnie, who was in front of Monty, was suddenly kicked down the last three steps by his accomplice. He fell down the stairs and cast a glare in Monty's direction. He began to mutter something about 'no honor among thieves', but froze. The instinctual sirens in his mind were going off, and he felt that something very, very wrong. He very slowly lifted his head to look in front of him, but couldn't see much- he had dropped his flashlight when Monty kicked him. He could hear a deep rumbling sound, though. Like a dog growling, but deeper. He followed his ears, turning his head towards the doorway, and two glowing eyes shown in the darkness of the house.

[color=b7b7b7]"Ah fuck."[/color]