Thread: DELETE

RE Blood Bank - Me and Sinister. Being a demon of the shadows wasn't exactly something I'd dreamed about as a boy. Growing up to be something great and amazing however, was. I guess in some ways I have indeed fulfilled that dream, except in a more... sadistic way. I'd always wanted to be a great war hero, a leader, someone with fame and reputation to my name, someone like Winston Churchill. Looking back now, that was a hundred years too far in the past to even attempt to revive. It turns out I just ended up getting sick in a period of time where medicine was far from modernized, and it was common-place for people to die from a thing as simple as the common cold. There I was, about to sign my life away to fight for a greater cause against the crazed and power-thirsty German revolutionaries, and instead I ended up in a hospital bed waiting for a death that would never come. I never asked to become what I am, nor did I ever conceive it realistically possible, but I cannot deny that there is a certain... affinity to this new life that I have attained. After all, I have been promised leadership, reputation, fame all of the things I always imagined, if not a little skewed from the way I originally pictured it. Still, I never quite pictured my glory being so... dwindling. A scowl had been permanently etched onto his face from the very moment he had been interrupted in his writings, to the moment he was stalking about in the bitter cold winter storm, and even in the present moment as he stood silently and stiffly in a darkened corner of the room the girl had taken up presence in. It had taken hours of hunting to find this place, and merely a few minutes to get inside. That was all the easy work, the basic steps to collecting the hard part was always what came after getting inside, the process of actually capturing the victim and making off with them alive, well, and in one piece- on both counts. He was prepared for the most difficult of takings, but the longer he stood there and watched, the longer he examined this young girl, the more evident it became that perhaps she wasn't going to be so difficult after all. The knife she idly played with would be easy enough to disarm, even more so given the fact that it was dark in the house. By appearance, she was young, and by her actions alone it was easy to tell that she was also very naive. It almost made him disappointed to take her, as there was never any fun in taking a naive and gullible bank back. Looks could be deceiving though, and he sincerely hoped that that was true in this case as he slowly stepped away from the shadows, edging closer to the girl and allowing his form to cascade in the dimmest light. Hello. His voice was smooth, deep, and deceivingly gentle. White teeth flashed for a moment in the briefest of smiles as he stared down at the girl with eyes so dark they may very well have been black. For the moment, he kept his arms relaxed at his sides, shoulders slack. Before you can say 'who are you' in a terrified tone and start to panic, he spoke slowly, calmly, and each word left his lips with careful pronunciation. My name is Michael, and I am not here to kill you. In fact, I am here for you. He edged a step in her direction, allowing himself to be slightly more revealed in the dim light. It was clear that he was wearing black pants, nice ones at that, and a tucked black button down, collared shirt. He'd neglected to wear a belt but his pants were held around his hips perfectly. Slowly, cautiously, he reached out his hand to girl, showing light complexion. What is your name?