Malevolent Intent
“They say I’m cold- what do they even mean by that?” Shiro mused under his breath, his abnormally sharp nails clicking against the wall, the corner of the hallway. “My touch? The words I’ve spoken?” His tail lightly slid against the old stone, echoing the soft rasp of scales against concrete floor.
His prey most certainly knew he was coming- the notes of a certain dead alchemist had told him of Kimbley, and of the threat he posed. Shiro was certainly confident, but not outright blind.
Perhaps my heart, actually.
He could almost taste the antiseptic in the air, and the iron stench it tried to hide. His footsteps were unhurried and deceptively human- too light for the metal men he had dodged around earlier. “Whatever it is that they mean, it’s likely all to be accurate, these days.” Not that it mattered. Two other alchemists on that list were dead due to his vigilante boredom, so hopefully this one would present a better challenge.
The dying scream didn’t even faze him as he rounded the corner- and instead he set his purple gaze on the man he’d been searching for. No point in a surprise attack if his approach wasn’t a surprise.
“Interesting level of brutality you have, my dear.” A slow clap and a polite smile. “To be expected of the great Crimson Alchemist. You are Kimbley, correct?”