The Ripper

William Jack Holloway

There were very little things that the Dark Hunter found interesting during the day. His years of hunting had led him towards a nearly nocturnal lifestyle, one that was only being amplified by living with a vampire. So often, he would go days entirely without seeing the sunlight. Though, having grown up in London, this was not necessarily any different from the world in which he had spent his youth. Still, today had been one of those abnormal days in which the man had found himself out and about during the daylight hours if only to give his restless body something to do. Since he'd discovered Sebastian alive (well mostly) and well, his once overwhelming desire to hunt and take revenge on vampires was gone almost entirely. With it left an itchy restlessness that he couldn't quite place. He was not a murderer, and realizing that vampires... that his friend could be one of them... it had made taking their lives impossible. He'd believed them soulless creatures, incapable of anything but destruction. But Sebastian was still... Sebastian. He was just as beautiful and vibrant as he had been human, the only difference being that he now drank blood.

A minor thing, really.

He hadn't been doing anything important with his day outside of meandering the streets looking for some kind of entertainment. It was too early for the burlesque to open - which, admittedly, had become a source of enjoyment for the young man on the evenings he wasn't spent with his vampire companion. Or, of course, the few (but precious) evenings that he had spent alongside the blonde witch that was so quickly stealing his heart. It was the assassin he had on his mind most presently as he walked along the streets. He missed her, even if he would never admit that aloud. He wanted to go and present himself at the warehouse that Vhalla lived in and demand some of her attention, and yet even he wouldn't do that. Not yet. The days counting down to the next time he might see her seemed so impossibly slow, and it had resulted in an impossibly sullen William. It was remarkable, really, how much of an effect that the girl was having on him given their few meetings together, and yet William couldn't deny himself how much he truly enjoyed the girl's company.

It was that alone that was on his mind as the Dark Hunter so suddenly found a pair of hands on himself. A surprised noise left his throat as he was shoved so roughly against the brick wall. His head snapped back and collided with the wall and had him seeing stars for a brief second before his eyes focused on the faerie man with his elbow at William's throat. The paranoid words of the man had William's brow furrowing. "What the bloody hell are you on about?" He muttered out, his British accent perhaps more prominent in his shocked state. He hadn't been following the man - at least not intentionally. He had merely been wandering aimlessly in an attempt to occupy his racing thoughts. "I wasn't following you." His eyes narrowed for a moment as his fingers twitched towards the dagger on his belt. The silver blade of his dagger wouldn't harm the fae man quite as much as an iron one might have, and yet Will simply did not possess iron weapons. After all, he never had any intention of harming a fae. "Should I be following you?"

But darling -- it's only human nature.