P R O W L E R S

[Issac Weasley]

A FICTION
^{I will follow you into the}Dark

Note: Some inspiration I got that was originally supposed to be just a simple intro edit. It turned into a neat plot, so I decided to extend it into a chapter project. It's going to develope into a thriller revolved around species called 'prowlers' that hunt around and kill under the face of people. *disclaimer - Prowler species originated from novel series of the same title.*

I'm also looking for (a) co-writer(s).

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• Leader: a generic meaning these days that got overused and underrated. Often mistaken for
  
  
• 'One who orders around and receives upon hand.' Fucks people over and leave the weak behind. No. That's an arrogant jerk.
  
  
• Conformist: a word generally supposed to follow a negative connotation but has been warped to go hand in hand with mainstream.
  

It happens. You've done it, and I've done it. Don't bullshit your way out of it. We're all Leaders, Jerks, and conformists at least once in our lives. Although some of us more than others.

Kane's all that -and then some- wrapped up in one. And he manages to do it everyday. Somehow it always seems to work to his favour though, probably because he plans for it to.

He's a people person. He knows what people want, and more importantly what they need. He has a way with words that puts all the charming A-listers to shame. Knowing what to say, and when to say it has got him so.fucking.far. This came easier throughout the years once he entered high school. It was filled with hormone driven teens, and it led to a quick catch that they were all predictable like Canada was cold.

He still remembered the days with a picture horrific haze, even well after he graduated. Blood, sex, and drugs were swapped, while the smart young men and women gave their bodies as prizes. The rest expected something in return.

Things began to pick up speed after leaving school. New York was a frenzy, and it just turned into a complete inferno once Kane arrived. Sure, there was the constant terror of night hunters and prowlers; subways making the debut as the number one way to get around if one could help but avoid plummeting down onto the tracks during the midst of a morning rush hour. It was voted most polite city in people magazine, points added for the common courtesy of holding open doors and apologizing. Still, none of it could make up for the curse, rape, and murder that lost itself within the noise and traffic. It really was salt in a cup of tea. Most don't know until it's too late.

This could be found everywhere though, not just New York. Abuse, I mean. Verbal, physical, mental; it's breathing down our necks. It could be avoided, but people chose not to. Either because they didn't want to give up the thrill of manipulating someone to the point of cold-sweated fear, or because they're too much of a prude to do something about it, but most of the time abuse ends up doing what it does best; it lingers.

Then there's that minority. It's made up of about ten people, give or take on account of that some just may be delusional. They have the power of the world in their hands because they¡¯ve figured out the answer to life¡¯s most scandalous secrets, and it¡¯s because they¡¯ve gone through complete hell. It¡¯s called learning the hard way. Kane is one of those people. Ever since he was little, he was told he¡¯d be famous one day. It didn¡¯t mean much, since his dad was the one who said it. Anyways, this coming from the mouth of a man who just cracked a jar of pickles open with considerable amount of difficulty, doubt had always taken front seat to flattery.

But the man was spot on. Right, he probably wasn¡¯t famous, and if so, definitely not in the way his father had meant. He was quite popular, though. No, that¡¯s a lie. He was equally hated as he was loved. Known would be more accurate. It was funny, because the ones he tried to impress the most shunned him, and the ones that he was eager to get off his back seemed to have taken a liking for being a human Velcro. It was like this for most his 19 year old life, and that¡¯s when he had realized that everything was dependant on reverse psychology. It doesn¡¯t matter how hard you try, but the end result will always be polar opposite of your intentions. Success too.

So New York is a large city. And in such a large city, you¡¯d think there¡¯d be at least another one of those minorities. So far, there wasn¡¯t, though the delusional latter part of the category seemed to pop up endlessly. The lack of spontaneity he found in New York was disappointing to Kane, but it had meant that he could prolong his game even more.

The game that gotten him a lot of great nights...

and awful mornings.

The facade that held up a mask of charm and dignity to the public.

The one soon to be turned into an entire masquerade.

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-If you have a better place to put this thread, go ahead and move it.-