William Holloway

I'm a devil in disguise

After his prolonged captivity, William was well aware of the way it felt when his mind started to shatter. He could recognize the way his vision got blurry, the way his hands shook, the way a shiver went down his spine... and he was entirely powerless to stop it. Even as he staggered backwards in an attempt to calm himself, it was far too late. The remaining threads of his sanity had frayed away. In the place of the normally calm, soft-spoken Duke was nothing but a cold blooded killer, and that creature cared little about the fact that the woman he loved was the one standing before him. For now, she was a threat that must be ended. And end her he would.

William's movements were lightning fast as he reached out, grabbing her by the arm only to throw her to the ground in the same movement. There was a pleasure in hearing the grunt of pain that escaped the witch's lips, and the sadistic killer moved quickly across the room towards the woman. In his normal state of mind, William would have leapt to an apology or gently gathered the woman into his arms - not, of course, that he would have treated her in such a way if it weren't for the way that his mind had cracked. Somewhere, deep down, William was aware of the panicked look on the blonde's face and the way that her sweetheart lips formed his name. But that didn't stop the Englishman from standing over her, his position effectively trapping her underneath him.

Even with the curse of his affinity further splintering what remained of Will's rationality, there was comfort in feeling the familiar heat of his blades within his palm. For a moment, William merely flexed his fingers, testing his grip on the weapons that conformed to his palms. His mind played a new mantra, the need to kill her, and the Duke did not hesitate to bring that blade down directly at her chest. William was a killer, trained and true, and he had absolutely no need to draw this out any longer. The instant the assassin drew in that last breath would be the moment that the rage would die down. Those blades, capable of cutting anything that he so chose, were aimed at only her today. William heard her desperate plea for him to stop, and yet that didn't stop his arm from driving the dagger towards his target.

The sudden heat made William recoil, the tip of his blade missing its intended target and instead slicing straight through the floor at her side, leaving a long, jagged cut across her floor. A roar of anger left the Dark Hunter's lips as he staggered back, away from the wall of flame that Vhalla had produced. "God dammit!" He yelled. The incandescent blades in his palms flickered out for the split second it took for William to regain his concentration. William charged towards her once more. Her words fell upon deaf ears. He was too far gone to hear her pleading words to stop, and even then, the anger that burned away at him made it truly impossible to care about what she said. All he could think about was hearing her bones crack underneath her touch, to feel the heat of her blood on his skin, to listen to the sound of her heart as it stopped its steady beat.

The wall of flame shot up before him once more, though this time it didn't break the Hunter's concentration. Or at least, it didn't until the spray of water hit William's skin. William jerked back, his attention diverted temporarily to finding the source of the cold spray. His body jerked quickly at the sight of the weakened ball of flame that soared near him, and that movement was all that she needed to knock him off balance and tackle him to the ground. "Oof!" William grunted, his palms tightening on the weapons in his hands. He growled, his teeth bared as he struggled to right himself once more . "You fucking bitch!" He yelled, his feet coming up in an attempt to knock her off balance and off of his chest.

The burning sensation in his wrists was enough to temporarily cease the man's fight, his blades disappearing from his palms just as quickly as they had appeared. The sensation of his arms being trapped sent another wave of memories through the man's frantic mind. How many times had he been pinned just like this in the past years? How many times had he been rendered utterly helpless by eliminating the use of his hands? The memories forced a rush of rage to erupt from the man, He twisted, ripping his wrist free from her grasp in one quick motion. He pushed on Vhalla with all his strength, the force sending the girl not only off of his body but skidding across the wet floor.

William rolled to a crouch, surveying the witch's limp body across the room. A wicked grin spread across his face at the sight of her weakened form. Without hesitation, he leapt at her, grabbing ahold of her wrists and forcing her arms roughly above her head. It took no effort for the man, his Hunter's strength no match for the feminine figure under his weight. He gathered both of her wrists within his right hand, keeping her pushed against the wet floor. In his left hand, he called that dagger back to existence. The energy pulsed within his palm, the sensation causing the man to pause briefly simply to feel the pleasure of the energy that only seemed to grow the more his mind fractured.

"Any last words?" William purred, his weight pressing down further upon her as he brought the blade up, letting it hover an inch or so above her throat. Gone was that instinct to simply end her life. His annoyance pushed him further, wanting simply to toy with her. How would it feel to hear her scream as his psychic blades cut through her skin? That wicked grin only grew across his features, the man looking utterly insane as he stared at the woman that a part of him loved. He allowed the blade to drift away from her throat, the tip of the dagger moving to her side just under her breasts. William drug the blade slowly down her torso, stopping an inch or two below her hip before he pressed the blade deeper. Vhalla's clothing melted away with no effort; her fair skin peeling away as if it were made of paper, the blood instantly seeping from the wound. Not deep, his efforts were entirely motivated by the need to cause her pain rather than to end her.

But oh, would he end her. He just had to toy with her first.