Hermes Aviator
A figure blinked slowly in the empty classroom. Dust billowed in corners of the room, and one of the tall windows sent rays of sunshine from the dusk outside. The boy's eyes were unnatural, and looked like they shouldn't belong a human figure. They were slit, and green and moved around the room quickly. It was quiet up here and Hermes liked that. He wore tan, skinny pants with a thick belt and a simple white tshirt. His hair was gelled neatly, and his dyed hair streaks stood out profusely. It was simple, way too simple to brake open the lock to the empty room. All he had to do was take one of his unnatural, elongated nails and click open the lock. His name was Hermes, and under his white shirt, one could just see the faint outline of his tattoo the government had given him.
Hermes turned around slowly in the room, studying the blackboard in the old room. He was a natural theft, and manipulator. He was actually a compulsive theft, it was programmed into his brain from birth, while simple emotions had been removed. He had stolen many kid's watches, ipods, and other equipment. He had been keeping it stashed, demanding money if they wanted them back. When they tried to steal it back, well you can't steal from a master theft can you? It seemed though, the staff were constantly onto him and made him give a majority of it back, again majority.
Hermes moved away from the old chalkboard which had numerous amounts of graffiti in chalk from old couples or clubs, and moved towards the window. He looked over, he was about three stories up. He sighed deeply, and a forked tongue escaped his mouth, a habit he couldn't avoid. He reached into his pocket and pulled a a small box out. He flicked open the box and pulled out a cancer-stick. He stuck it between two, curled fangs in his mouth and lit it with a click of his lighter in the other hand. Smoking wasn't allowed around here, but who gave two shits when you could steal it right back. He exhaled deeply, and the air fumed with smoke and the harsh scent of burning tabaco.
A figure blinked slowly in the empty classroom. Dust billowed in corners of the room, and one of the tall windows sent rays of sunshine from the dusk outside. The boy's eyes were unnatural, and looked like they shouldn't belong a human figure. They were slit, and green and moved around the room quickly. It was quiet up here and Hermes liked that. He wore tan, skinny pants with a thick belt and a simple white tshirt. His hair was gelled neatly, and his dyed hair streaks stood out profusely. It was simple, way too simple to brake open the lock to the empty room. All he had to do was take one of his unnatural, elongated nails and click open the lock. His name was Hermes, and under his white shirt, one could just see the faint outline of his tattoo the government had given him.
Hermes turned around slowly in the room, studying the blackboard in the old room. He was a natural theft, and manipulator. He was actually a compulsive theft, it was programmed into his brain from birth, while simple emotions had been removed. He had stolen many kid's watches, ipods, and other equipment. He had been keeping it stashed, demanding money if they wanted them back. When they tried to steal it back, well you can't steal from a master theft can you? It seemed though, the staff were constantly onto him and made him give a majority of it back, again majority.
Hermes moved away from the old chalkboard which had numerous amounts of graffiti in chalk from old couples or clubs, and moved towards the window. He looked over, he was about three stories up. He sighed deeply, and a forked tongue escaped his mouth, a habit he couldn't avoid. He reached into his pocket and pulled a a small box out. He flicked open the box and pulled out a cancer-stick. He stuck it between two, curled fangs in his mouth and lit it with a click of his lighter in the other hand. Smoking wasn't allowed around here, but who gave two shits when you could steal it right back. He exhaled deeply, and the air fumed with smoke and the harsh scent of burning tabaco.
