I rest my head on my arm, leaning against the seat in front of me for support. My eyes swivel; the black orbs darkening as they traced imaginary, intricate patterns on the wooden floor. I scanned the ground, and a wispy ghost of a smile peeked through my blank facade. Faint amusement welled up in me, like a soft caress against my skin as I saw the winding wood grains lay sprawling in the irregular strips of wood. They were a dizzy landscape of shifing sand dunes, ebbing up and down in long, lazy sweeps.
Time was not a matter, and the air hung heavily on me. Silence reigned, and the sweet, sickly taste of anxiety filled the large hall. I licked my lips, tasting the invisible fear, sniffing the honey-like syrup of tangy worry that wafted around me like a thick, slow-swirling swamp. It was delicious; a tantalising taste that left a growing crave in my stomach. I lapped hungrily, my mouth soaking the human emotion. It was intoxicating, this fear, and I enjoyed every drop of it. It was refreshing, like ancient wine that tickled my throat. . .
Then I was jerked back to reality, and my joy was lost. I felt my humanity rearing its digusting head, and I tried to hold its weakness back. My strength left me, and I felt myself shuddering in tingling nervousness. I wanted to scream, but my body did not obey. The rush of emotions suffocated me, drowning me in a numb, painless agony. I felt my muscles quiver; my chest heaving as breaths came in short and quickly.
Soon the panic wore off, and I regained use of my body. My. . .humanity receded, but not before leaving its loathesome taint of vulnerability onto my perfectness. It angered me, and my eyes flashed a dangerous red. I held my rage back, and set my mind back into calmness.
I sat back, waiting, watching, and quietly observing this failed, fragile species.
