L0WER-RAVENMAY19TH|8:30amYurako tossed and turned the entire night. The man she had been sold to for the day prior had but a wink of sleep as well, not that he seemed to mind. His bloodshot eyes were too busy having been glued to the news station obnoxiously blaring their current state of affairs. That same calloused thumb never left the 'replay' button, even through the wee hours. Was he watching a fucking recording? Groaning, she struggled to shut the noise out, nearly suffocating herself via down pillows in the process. The young hostess was never fond of insomniacs, much like this one - she appreciated her beauty sleep. And even then, usually they'd take their wakefulness and utilize it to their advantage. At least then, she'd have had some form of her own entertainment. But not this guy, no. This man was something else entirely.
After countless tries, minutes turned to hours, and before they both knew it, the clock struck 8:30am. Streaks of blinding sun threatened to beam through the drapes if she wasn't up in time. Yura threw her legs over the edge of the silken bed and let out a light mewl. The hell was this man still doing?
"...time's up, Master." she yawned, slowly wrapping her robes around her. Whilst walking in between him and the wide-screen TV, Yura made sure to space out the intervals in which she tied the ribbons around her nightgown. A smirk slowly grew on the man's face as he finally came to, all the while he recognized Yura's subtle advances. Pulling the girl by the longest ribbon, the robe loosened its grip on her body, and finally for the first time during the whole 24-hour cycle, something was finally happening. The contact became heated as soon as the distance between them tightened. Not once in her life had she ever thought she'd be as thirsty for another's touch as she was in that exact moment. Deprivation was one thing, but withdrawal was something else entirely.
"...55 dead and 140 injured. And counting."
As if on queue to disrupt her mental repose, the man froze as the reporter's words seemed to slice through the air like newly brandished steel. Yura wasn't pleased, albeit a little offended. She finally gave in to what's been attracting the man's attention for the past couple dozen hours. An air of stoicism and neutrality loomed over them.
"Only 4 humans were found dead and it seems to have been the terrorist group against humans that has hit. The D.T.R. This is... they're 4th big hit this month."
Only 4 humans?
"4 humans were found dead. So does that mean the rest of them were... reapers?"
"Uh-huh. Not like anyone gives a fuck about them, though." he dismissed the mass murder with a wave of his hand. Instinctively, Yura's cheeks began to grow red.
"Why did you spend over a thousand for a night with me, then? Was it perhaps because you felt that you needed a TV companion? What was that phrase - netflix and chill?"
The man rolled his eyes. "I didn't fucking know people were going to die last night. One of them was my brother."
"Oh... my condolences."
"It's all good. Besides, I know you don't care. I saw your 'tattoo' last night when you offered to shower with me for the sake of customer service. You're the same as those mutts, aren't ya?" he growled as he took two large strides towards her and grabbed her by the chin. "You're all good for nothing but death, and sex."
"Would you like to try saying that again?" Yurako had almost had enough.
"Oh! What are you gonna do, baby girl? Kill me? Like the rest of them?"
A split second was all it took. Yurako shook herself out of his grasp and had his trachea in her hand by the time he got to blink. A light squeeze guaranteed a mediocre, slightly painful but not really, death.
"How dare you suggest that I would do otherwise?" she mumbled, kicking the body under the bed and calling for one of her sisters. It was going to be a pretty boring day, considering most of their clientele would be busy bawling over the death of 4 measly humans. Leaving the mess to the other sisters, she quickly dressed up and headed out of the Tavern. Yurako was just a girl. Nonetheless, she refused to be an idle spectator to the destruction that befell a large quantity of her people that night prior.
L0WER-RAVENMAY19TH|8:40amThe distinct scent of metal pervaded through the air. It cleanly sliced through what would have otherwise been the pleasant aroma of dampness and sewage. Dominique fanned the growing stench towards himself, wanting to so badly drown himself in it. The sight and smell of humans' life-juice excited him. It was the type of feeling you'd get after you're woken up by the smell of pancakes and toast in the morning. His dusty boots crunched remnants of newspapers under each of his heavy footsteps, as he took the time to admire the towering buildings that obscured the tiny shack he was heading to. Truth was, he just really wanted to savor the moments leading up to the big event for tonight. A grin formed as the iron-like stench grew stronger and stronger, up to the point where he had to stop for a second and inhale the entirety of it.
Goddamn. There was nothing better than knowing there was something nice to come home to.
The alley path grew narrower, and before he knew it, Dom found himself right in front of the source of the sickly-sweet odor. A familiar, steel door stood between him and his climax. The reaper scanned his surroundings, beyond the towering edifices and sniffed the air to detect any souls nearby. To his luck, he found none, and proceeded to hurriedly unlock the door.
"HONEEEEEY, I'M HOOOOOOOME!" yelled a happy Dominique.
A muffled voice emitted a short, gargled scream from another room. Dom made his way through the log cabin, his smile growing wider as he stepped in. The moment he switched the lights on was queue for more muffled yelling, seemingly from a hooded figure seated in the middle of the dim room.
"How's my little lady?" he politely asked the woman, as he carefully peeled off the cloth and removed the gag.
"You look distressed. I mean, who wouldn't be, am I right?" he let out a chuckle before continuing, "this is your fault y'know. After getting knocked out at a random bar, what else would you expect to happen? Yes yes, of course. Any man would want to take advantage of a lovely girl like you and bring you home. It's only human nature. They want to be graced by your presence, if you know what I mean. Only, whatever happens after that," he paused and stroked her chin encrusted with dried blood, "...depends on the type of man he is."
The woman spit on his shoe, as she was brought out of her disorientated state. "Fuck you" she grunted angrily. The damsel desperately to wriggle and tip the glued chair, earning rope burns and a failing morale. Dom took a step back and admired the view of his next project. "Now, now. Let's not get too feisty!" he grinned. Licking his lips, he stood next to her and raised a finger up to her forehead, sampling a bit of her blood. It fueled his symbolic appetite, and he grew impatient. Bringing his hand down to her jaw, he roughly turned her face towards his. To his annoyance, the woman incoherently screamed nonstop.
"Oh, come on now. You should know by now that no one is going to hear you! Man like me, place like this - there's no way anyone could've chosen a better spot."
Dom revealed the tools he had prepared for her, one by one. "Okay! so here we have a razor blade- because I like to start small. Build up the tension, y'know 'am sayin'? and then this... this adjustable wrench will do wonders on your joints, I swear it. After that, once it gets boring, I'll-- actually? I'll leave the rest as a surprise. You'll love them." With every mention of the next tool, the woman's expression grew even more in disdain. She scrunched up her face as tears welled up in her eyes and ended up on her lap. Dominique noticed this, and exclaimed, "You might want to save those for later. Wouldn't want to dry you out by the time we start" with a wink, he began work on her thighs.
A crescendo of screams and slices later, Dom had noticed the woman's fighting spirit was ailing. No matter how deep he went with the blade, the blood continued to gush but his ears heard no protest.
"Scream for me, will you?" he nagged, beginning to grow bored.
"Go to hell..."
"I'll give you one last chance to beg me to stop, and maybe I'll let you go."
"Fucking end it already."
Dominique groaned.
Dominique washed the blood off his hands after his gruesome session, and proceeded to grab his travel bag. Looking around at the evident crime scene, he reveled at the totem pole he had made out of her. The masterpiece sat on the table, with the light shining solely on it, as if to be presented as art. Like ribbons, the rest of her were strewn across the ceiling. It was such a shame to have such a pretty meatsuit like that end up as a means of decoration. Hurriedly flipping over his cellphone, he hopped over the puddles of blood that stained the wooden floors.
The young reaper stepped out from the obscurity of the alleyways into the open, business of the streets. It was not so long after walking half a mile had he noticed the news report the jumbotron had on display. Dominique was quite fascinated with it at best. Another fucker decided to mess with his people, which meant another fucker gets to go to heaven early. A big grin formed on his face as he took off to the crime scene.
