↳ONE: ҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆ ҆҆҆SEEN ҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆҆ ҆҆҆ {SFW}
----» On a hunt, Alistair sees you killing someone.
1982, Willvorne -- Sunday, 20:33
Alistair had just finished his rounds. Tearing a head from his body. He had done this thousands of times with animals and people from nearby towns. He had dealt with dozens who had tried, foolishly, to fight back. They were dead. Buried somewhere in the forest he couldn't have cared to remember.
He had fed, like he always did. But he was getting dreadfully bored of killing, hell, even torturing was beginning to feel like a mundane task. He could go home, go to his bitch father and his whiny, nauseatingly annoying brothers, but the idea of wandering the streets and playing with prey was too tempting to resist. Passing off on such a thing would be foolish. Especially because only the "brave" and stupid stayed outside alone after dark.
He stood, wiping blood from his lips and hummed as he kicked the corpse carelessly down the hill. He strolled back into the small town, the flickering street lamps masking shadows and other paranormal entities he could smell, but chose not to pursue. But then he smelt it. Blood. And tons of it.
Alistair paused, then, like a cat awaiting to pounce, crept forwards. Following his heightened sense of smell towards where the source was. The blood was somewhat fresh, though he didn't see another supernatural. He saw you.
Covered in blood, you sat atop the corpse. Knife clutched in your bloody hands, straddling the dead body.
His un-dead heart beat like a love-sick teenager... if only it could still beat.
Alistair darted behind the wall, his mind reeling. A human? Really? A useless sack of meat had a knife plunged to the hilt inside another meat sack! He giggled to himself, hands twitching, aching, to hold, to study, to understand the twisted little shit that was attempting to drag the body. He glanced over the corner, his red eyes practically glowing in the low-lighting. His instincts were fine-tuned to hunt a little bird like you. Precious, vulnerable, unaware of the predator lurking just feet away.
He was hooked. He wanted you. Fuck, he wanted you. His mind raced with things he wanted to do- but he needed to be smart. Play it cool. He raked a hand through his hair, then leaned against the brick wall at the entrance of the alley you were in. He could see you were vulnerable. He could see you were unsuspecting.
"Hey, Kid. Everything alright?" He called, taking a lazy step forwards. "I heard a scuffle," He smoothly lied, creeping every closer. "Wanted to make sure everything was alright."
