@liammackenna
she watches the scene with the hardened gaze of a vulture carefully circling a corpse, ready to pounce. her skin is stained a dark plum, damson colored marks slowly making themselves known across her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose. lips are cracked too, spilling blood, scarlet trickling down her chin, down her neck. she doesn’t make an effort to stop its downfall. instead, she’s observing. making careful notes of what she sees ----- who she thinks might be hiding in the shadows. though she has already had an eventful night, has already shed her fair share of blood in her senseless desperation for the list. but if there’s one thing she has learned, it’s that her victims always have more blood to weep. so she studies the crowd closely, knowing full well that something is about to happen ( she can feel it in the very air, it’s practically sparkling, every breath is electrified ). lifeless eyes eventually zero in on a figure that seems vaguely familiar, and she apparates next to him, appearing out of thin air, her fingers closing around his wrist. her lips move uncomfortably close to his ear ( running a very real risk of dripping blood on his clothes ), and there’s a barely audible hiss. “ so you couldn’t stay away, then, could you? “ she whispers, and her teeth slam together, hiding behind a cat like snarl. tonight, her eyes have gained a quality that is beyond deranged - something far more wicked hiding in their depths. she’s on a mission for her master, so there is nothing she won’t do, a cruel desperation fueling her, making her see red. “ where’s little sissy? “ she pauses, her grip hardening, her teeth baring. they are stained crimson with her blood. “ is her name on the list? along with yours?” at that, she spits, saliva mixing with dirt and blood on the ground. “ should i flip a coin of who i shall kill first? now, wouldn’t that be nice. a fun little game for us to play. “
