My mind is racing and whispers clapping through my head like thunder! I know what they are, I know where they are but I just can't look at them! I spring, dart, leap, soaring like an eagle and gliding through the streets! Almost...Almost!...........................
"Who are you?" A voice so sonourous and deep it could ring through the earth and shatter it with it's niholism alone.
I don't answer. I take a moment to inspect him-his eyes as if a physical storm is blazing inside of them like fire, his teeth like pearls so meticoulsy carved they loose they revined elegance-he had a sort of musky fragrence, almost as if he had just rollen around in dust-Had you presented this figure to me without context I would have supposed he was the earth itself. His eyes darker than death and hair like the colour of silence sweeping the night-as dark as a raven's wing of ink. His skin was smooth and close to flawless-however he had deep burns scarring his neck like a kimberlite of dry blood. His hands larger than my face, he was remarkably musculer but almost fat in a sense-not particulery obese however. This man had flaring nostrils as if fire had liten his soul and bursted like electrictiy through his body. His mouth deeply chapped. I believe the potency, the murderous fury almost made you trust him with your life-unless of course you tried to taken his. He was almost kind, nearly affectionate-and his burns made him look around his 50's, however, he was abundantly larger than that.
"Poilce." His dire voice rumbled like a demon's about the pounce. "This is a poilce station."
He was quite English, however seemed to be of some sort of African-American descent (Altough his tone was much closer to a dim black than the flaming mahogony I was used to). His lungs breathed as if sand was ->->