The Holy Grail || El/Micah
He nearly missed the vision standing mere blocks away: all blonde hair and mid-length trench coat, painted full lips pouting at the screen of her cell phone as she waited for the traffic to dissipate so she might cross the street. Like a character brought forth from the pages of her obituary and the magazine images collected in his scrapbook, a very much deceased Eleanor Dubois stood picturesque on a sidewalk in Bentley, New York. While Captain Ahab had a legendary monster in Moby Dick, Micah Danvers long ago declared his own white whale to be this creature; deceptively beautiful and more venomous than the title black widow gave her credit for. There was nothing on his person to appropriately eliminate her as a threat, but a confrontation with the living dead was certainly something he would relish in and so he carried himself towards her lithe frame. With all of the horror she had inflicted upon Bentley’s residents, a bit of rattling was the very least of what she deserved. “Eleanor Dubois,” the hunter addressed her as though confirming an identity he already knew. “How interesting it is to see you above ground when I vividly recall the day your obituary was printed.”
