Herbs and Immortality

This was his usual routine. Go into an unknown area of the forest that was on the island to hopefully find new herbs, plants or seeds to use. About 30% of the time he would find something new or slightly different, but most of the time he just stocked up on what he already had. "Stupid island." He muttered to himself, wishing that he could get together with someone that had powers to make new herbs for him. At this rate, he would rip out all of the natural plants off of the island, which would really screw him over. It wasn't his fault that he wanted all the good materials for his sustenance to himself. As he ruffled his hair with his light brown working gloves, he gazed at a pretty looking flower, something that certainly looked new. As he crawled to it on all fours, having his picking bag strapped around his boney shoulder, falling down his side, he sniffed it. "Smells like a mix of a tulip and an orchid." He commented to himself not that it mattered what he though it smelt like, he wasn't an expert on flower smells.

Slowly, the smell left his nostrils, which made him lean in and smell it again, before he unwrapped his bag and placed it beside the mixed smell. It was pretty for a flower, as if it was just for him, like a gift or present from a crush of his, or a lover. Not that he had one. Most people that interested him would walk up and say 'aw', rather than see him as an old being of greed and teabags. It pissed him off. Getting out his digging tools, he neatly placed them on the other side, wondering how long this flower would take to dig up. "You better not be a stubborn little bastard." He warned the plant as he shook his index finger at it.

He wanted to run away the minute he heard a girls' voice. One that was high up, in the trees, staring down on him like some god. As he pinpointed a radius that the voice could be coming from. Though the sentences and spewed out of the branches was not the most polite, he wasn't the faint of heart. Smirking up at the trees, he kept his position, hovered around the plant. "Why would I believe that any of that was true? If this whole place was yours, then why wouldn't you be down here, chopping off my hands?" That thought scared him minorly, as that would certainly mean his death. He needed his hands, for as long as he had to survive off of stupid thing that grew out of the ground.

Her first point was true though, the plant wasn't hers, but it wasn't like there were any flower police telling him he couldn't. "I eat this." He said in a monotone voice as the pointed his index finger again at the plant. "Plus, I'm not stealing it, I'm using it." He grunted up at her, not wanting someone else to think that they had power over him because he looked young. "Why don't you claim down?" Even though night was his favorite time, that, of course, didn't mean he wanted to be around others.

He liked the way she talked. Every letter that came out was like a fire. Everything was so spontaneous and hot headed. It was nice for him to have met someone that wasn't so, dull. It was a thrill to talk to her, even though the thought of this unknown person eating up a person's whole was a bit, shocking.

As the mysterious voice jumped down into his view, she wasn't what he expected her to be. She looked so, new, refreshing. Most people her he met were so plainly dressed; skirts with fancy shirts, jeans and t-shirts. It was the norm for this time but, it was still nice to see the unique ones. He got out of his little trance as she started up with the flower again. "Yeah." He said coldly to his remark on killing children. He felt no sympathy for this girls' family, whether it be fake, imaginary or living. "It's not like this stupid flower will allow them to live. Most people eat actual food, unlike me." It wasn't as if a complete stranger would understand his complex eating arrangement.

Now that he could see her, to fade at her movements and see what she was saying, she was calm. Maybe a bit too calm, as if she was so sure of everything she did. Confidence. "Oh, I'd rather not experience any extreme pain today, if I don't have to." He looked into her eyes, smirking wildly at her. He wasn't just some little boy, he was a greedy, tea drinking vampire.

"Oh, that shit." He said to her coldly, as of course, before his transformation, most 12 year olds didn't have IDs. That was also one of the ways he had kept a lowish profile. "Would my word count?" He backed his face up enough to get a good look at her, leaning his body weight on his arms, which were behind him now. "I'm 112." He said boldly, as most people didn't even believe that. "And you can call me Monochrome, what about you lady?" He liked it when he treated 'older' people with little to no respect, it made him feel a certain fire in his chest, a pride.