[b][i]The hunter with blue eyes.[/i][/b] [hr] [i][u]Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. Demons. Fey. Goblins. Monsters right? They slaughter the innocent, eat hearts, make crossroad deals, and trade souls like friends sharing popcorn during the new superhero movie in the theater. How many had they taken over the years? How many lost, deprived, sent to hell, or taken from this existence without a choice? [/u] [/i] [hr] This city was like so many others, and it was dressed in the gossamer gown of ignorance to the existence of anything beyond the frappuccino in a random businessman's starbucks cup. Though we’ve covered that, haven’t we Fellow Traveler, and yet for a man like him the thought still occurred time and again. Many of these people were aware of the newest update about the viral TickTock star, or the new delicacy that could be found at some vegan hotspot, but how many of them knew the actual truth? How many of them knew what it was like to read Mark Twain, delve into the mysteries of Pictographs created by ancient civilizations which believed thunder to be the voice of a god? How many of them knew that their days were numbered, and how many believed in their own deaths as part of a natural cycle? Not many imagined the answer to be. Not many at all. Shoes moved along with the pace that the crowds kept, his chin kept low, and the top of his head with its ink black hair kept to the gentle breeze that pushed down through the canyons of man made towers. Eyes, the color of blue, flicked this way and that as eager as candle light, and the glare of the fading sun in the distance cast hard shine across the glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose. Like the others who passed by the homeless and their cups for change, this particular judgemental bastard moved along without much heed to their fate. Like the others who passed by the dank alleyways that branched off from the roads like cancerous trash filled veins, no attention was spared to their mysteries. No, unlike most that his mind would mock, chide, or admonish, this was not a do-gooder. This was not a kind soul. This was not an innocent. [hr] [i][u]Ghouls. Zombies. Witches. Warlocks. How many spells were cast in world history? How many skulls are crushed by void black spheres that wrap around someone's head to forever silence them? Monsters, one and all, right?[/u] [/i] [hr] The man, who bore a jacket that may look familiar in tone had the Queen but a glimpse of it, was named James, and as stated before, James was not a nice person. Even the way he moved seemed methodical, purposeful, and without err in a single stride. Every muscle below his clothing worked in tandem with his ligaments and heartbeat. Every action with reason, sanity, and determination. Yet, it has not always been so. There was a time, in the not so distant past, where a serial killer came across something that would not die. There was a night when neither blade, nor bullet, nor poison would end a man’s life that after inspection had no heartbeat. That was the day that James had his second birth. Oh, that term was used by bloodsuckers and wolves alike, but neither of those terms fit the man in the jacket with the shine on those lenses. Neither of those things could hold a candle to what he was, remained to be, and would be up to the moment of his demise. Because all those things? Every single fucking one of them that were listed above? They held no candle, no matter how dimly lit, to the fact that humanity was in truth the real monster. For the sake of power they threw children from the tops of ziggerauts. They bled out lovers and worshippers into holy chalice, to seek power or eternal life. I mean shit, they’ve gone and all but killed the entire fucking planet with their fumes, chemicals, and plastics. They poisoned the oceans, the sky, and even mountains were littered with frozen corpses. And why all of these sins? Why do any of it? For power. For greed. Hell, just to do it. No, the things that go bump in the night weren’t the real things to be feared. No my friends, it was humanity. It was the literally god damned lineage of Adam and Eve. Yes, they were the real beasts with triple six’s carved on their forehead. They were the disease that could end planets. They devour their own youth en masse in numbers that would make a Satanist Nun blush, and if you think that wrong? Well, take a look at our history Fellow Traveler. We’ve sparked wars that engulfed the planet with our hate. We built a clock that ticks down to the moment we expect to launch computers with payloads that could obliterate entire countries with radiation. Monsters, right? There is a place in this city, one he did not know, did not need to research or even cared to give a second thought to. Because it didn’t matter the location, or the scenery, or who owned it when or why the abandoned factory still stood. None of it mattered, save for one simple fact. Order must be kept. The creatures needed to be reminded from time to time just who were the real Reapers. They needed to be taught to fuck right off back to their pathetic little holes filled with fear, piss, and their suffering. Order must be kept. Those who sought to live forever, must be shown that everything dies. By time, gun, sword, flame, water, or any means necessary. With only the height of five ten, he looked a paltry thing compared to some. Yes, to some the sight of him could be almost funny couldn’t it? Like a meal just standing there … waiting to be taken. But James was a human, and he knew the truth while others did not. [b]Order must be kept, [/b]and the creatures needed to be taught time and again who was on the top of the food chain when it came to destruction and death. They must be reminded who the real fucking monsters were. [hr] [hr] [i][b]The oak eyed man with a green eyed Wolf inside.[/b][/i] They were not so far away as Mal would have liked, if he had known just what was in that abandoned building within the city, but at the moment there were other concerns. The moment that light went out, there was one last flicker of green behind almost reflective visage. Of course, the man had to [i]bite back[/i] a retort at the Queen once more, as the woman showed almost a childish tantrum of 'fine we'll fix what we did' type mentality. Though Mal had done that for most of his life, keeping emotions bottled up, contained, trapped behind. People say it was unhealthy, but when he was infected with that curse? Well, the practice had made him rather good at keeping that Wolf inside of him... well... inside of him. Cool attention in the near pitch flicked from the woman to the bird all the same, ears pricking against their voices in the darkness. Nose furling nostrils to keep track of their scents. It was times like this that at least the thing inside of him had a use, a purpose more then simply devouring. It made it easier on him, well, made it trivial to be honest. Okay okay... so he couldn't help himself completely. One of his bare hands lifted up and offered a little wriggle of his fingers towards the bird. "See you later Polly, loved our little chat. Remember to stay focused now, I believe in you." The thing about learning to draw, about making sure every line was in its place, it effected the memory believe it or not. The dance of hers even in the gloom was being memorized, or in the least attempted to. Give Mal a chance, and no doubt the very images to which he had witnessed would later be doodled down. Reinforced within the trap of his mind. What would happen to a man who could not die, if one tried to cast a 'come back to life spell' on himself? Curiosity pricked in his mind, rather feline for a Wolf, but the concept was intriguing all the same. Though wasn't that how all of this started Mal? Didn't curiosity in truth not kill the cat, but rather fuck it up and twist it into something else? Yes, perhaps not the best idea. "I don't want to distract you, but thank you." There he stood waiting, quietly, in the dark as she danced and drew upon fabrics, threads, and powers that never could the man hope to hold. [hr] [hr] [b][i]The hunter with blue eyes.[/i][/b] "Don't worry, I'm not going to end you." It had only taken five minutes, and now a torso was on the ground in front of his shoes. Still alive, well, as alive as the vampire could be. The head that was still on its shoulders spit up blood, hissed, and rolled in pain. It's limbs here and there, and a bloody hatchet that had been pulled from beneath his cloak added to the display. James had dismembered it with quick efficacy, but did not finish it as stated. "What I'm going to do is this." Crouching down over the writhing grisly scene, the man took a handkerchief from his pocket and removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose. Slowly, carefully, he started to wipe away the red that had splashed across the lenses. "I'm going to pour kerosine over you, and set you on fire. Not enough that it turns you to ash." He held the lenses up towards the window to catch only a faint glint of light to make sure all specs were cleaned. "But enough so you feel it. Dunno how long it will take till you start coming back around, I figure it depends on when you last ate, but I'll check on you in a few hours. Then we're going to play again, and again, and again." A smile now as those lenses were placed back onto his face, so he could see the creature moving back and forth. "Nothing should live forever my friend, and since you thought you could? Well. We're going to make it so you know what mistake you made. We're going to play till you understand not only is it right that things die, but they should happily accept it when the time comes." From his pocket now, a silver ... no stainless steel flask... look familiar Fellow Traveler? Looks exactly like someone else's, but instead of Honeyed Whiskey, this one had the smell of flammability. It glugged its fluid across the rolling worm like form. "Order must be maintained.." The hunter struck a match and looked into the flame, before with that simple smile dropped it so he could feel the heat of glowing bloom. It was beautiful, wasn't it James? "Now, in the meantime, I smell [b]my[/b] Wolf nearby. Feel free to keep screaming till your lungs give out. They'll come back of course, so no worries. You wanted all the time in the world after all didn't you my friend? Such fun we'll have till I get bored." Yes, a monster wasn't he?