first blood;

Basileios stood quietly, arms crossed, shoulder pressed into the corner of an abandoned brick building. The darkness crept through the streets like hounds, crouched low and slow, stalking their target. Their eyes flashed red, glowing, pupilless, hungry. Jaws snapped, teeth clashed.

He's never felt such hunger before.

But his shadows were not the only beasts in the streets, dispersing into the wind as a gust took hold. He let them go, turning his back to the scene before him.

An afflicted man. Younger than himself. Certainly more well off, judging by his propper clothes and groomed appearance. It was a shame he ended up as he did, a branch pierced through his middle section; most likely felled by the weather. Blackened blood spurted from his lips as he sputtered and moaned between breaths. Over time, his cries for help had given way to quiet laughter, and that was when they had found him.

Wraith wanted to kill him, put him out of his misery.
Basileios agreed.
She told him to do it.
He hesitated.

Truth was, Basileios had never killed anyone before. He'd fantasized about it. Apollyn, for one, he'd killed a thousand times in his dreams. Sometimes, Order officials or witchfinders would be at the end of his blade too.

But his hands were clean; the only blood on them being his own.

Basileios stepped into the street, his hands finding the pockets of his coat. His boots thudded heavy with his slow stride as he approached, black flickering across his golden gaze as he called to his magic once more.

The afflicted reached for him with crooked fingers, uncaring for how blood spurted from the edges of the giant wound. It should have been painful, but hunger prevailed- Basileios recognized the look in his eye. He'd seen it too many times before.

"C-Come clos-er," The man heaved through drowning breaths, cracked lips stretching into a sickening grin. "Your b-blood… it smells-s… sweet."

Basileios stopped just out of reach, resisting the urge to recoil at the scent of vile corruption. His magic churned at his fingertips as he merely stared, watched. The man tried with unyielding determination to reach him, nails tearing at the bark on the branch.

"I want… I wa-nt to… taint it…" Fingers curled, voice growing louder and louder. "Come… closer… closer… CLOSER… CLO SE R… C L O S E R-"

His screams rang in his head long after he had been silenced, Basileios' hands held out before him, fingertips touching. The body slumped, a slice through his chest… and the trunk… and several trees behind them. Shadows fluttered from where the blade had dissipated in the distance, and slowly, the inky black drained from his eyes.

He sighed as blood pooled at his boots in a pile of limbs and wood. There was a tremor to his hands now, as he tucked them back into his pockets, his own breath shaking. He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Wraith was there, her presence forever looming in every sliver of darkness. He felt her eyes trained on his back, and it was there that they remained, as he stepped over the man's head and strode away, flicking his collar up against another gust of wind.