The blade flicked out, the edge glinting in the moonlight. Crouching to the floor, Alistair's footsteps were masked throughout the torrent of rain. Light bounced off of the drops of water- creating a myriad of colours, as though it were the gateway to heaven.
But the only place Alistair would be going when he died was to the deepest, darkest depths of hell. And he knew it, too. Sliding his feet back, he noticed the approaching. He took no joy in harming innocent citizens such as these. However….this was what it took to slowly, yet surely smash his message into the city's skulls.
The knife pushed through their leg. Slowly twisting it, to force more pain into his victim, he ripped it out of the side, watching as their body was forced into a kneeling position.
"Lights out."
He chuckled, before slamming the hilt into their skull, a large crack echoing. With that, he ripped the blade across their neck- severing multiple nerve endings and cutting their airway. Warm, fresh crimson blood began flowing from the wounds like a river. The other one had already started dashing- probably to go tell the police- and he couldn't have that, could he?
'Azrail' was the name he went by- when committing crimes such as these. REQUIEM had it out for him, most certainly. As the city's probably no.1 most wanted, he had to keep his lives as the 'kind and cheery Alistair' and the 'murderer Azrail' far apart.
The night made it much, much harder to see. Visibility was low, so as he sprinted after the other person, thrusting the knife upward as he caught them- blood dripping down from the knife as he ripped it out sharply, the gasp as their body his the floor audible. Blood flowed from the wound, leaking out onto the stone, forming a pool at his feet. Forever, he stood in a pool of blood.
Wiping the blood off the knife he had just brutally gutten a civilian with using his black gloves, he was happy he had chosen them over the white ones. They didn't even collect light- something he was grateful for- he didn't want heaven to see what demons lie in his soul. As well as that, the blood didn't stain…so no one would truly be able to see what it was he had done- he was a sinner- one that deserved to rot, at that.
He knew he was going to hell for his crimes, eventually- he had gone so far, the murder didn't even make him repulse like it did at first- he could be considered no longer 'human'.
But he may as well make as many of these sinners burn while he still had the time.
The moonlight glistened, reflecting off the water puddles and droplets, reflecting the legion of stars above. And there was nothing but silence- no battle cries of angels, ready to pronounce his descent to the depths of hell- sometimes he desperately wished he didn't see his reflection- because when he did, it would surely show nothing but the demon that lay hidden within.
"That's my job for tonight done. I'd better get going- I expect REQUIEM will have heard of this within the hour."
But the question remained to him- why did the civilians never fight back? With the use of their magic, they could quite easily overpower him, who had none. Wiping his face with a bloodied glove, it smeared on his face- causing him to frown.
"Ugh- I'll have a hard time explaining to Maia why there's blood smeared all over my face."
Grabbing the dead by the hems of their clothes, he dragged the corpse over to a quiet corner of an alleyway- hiding the body. It would probably be best to ditch these clothes. It was the middle of the night- but people were still…around. Slowly taking off the black tailcoat, he folded it somewhat neatly alongside the gloves and pants, placing his clothes back on and stuffing them into a bag.
The stench of blood emanated from the clothes, and it caused the back of his throat to sting, bile building up in his throat as he fought back the urge to throw up- hopefully he didn't run into any police, it would take a while to explain…
Leaving the alleyway with a swift walk, he kept his head down- the square glasses on his face. A member of REQUIEM passed by, and he held his breath. One…two…three. They were gone.
He winced somewhat hearing a shriek of horror behind him- the corpses had probably been discovered. With that, his slow walk began to quicken into a run- and the run turned into a full-blown sprint.