Armand

𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒋𝒖𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒔,

𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒏.

After attempting to wash away the ugly feelings that clung to him, he sat on the window ledge, taking a drag from his cigarette and gazing into the night, which had become his only companion these days. The night wrapped around him like a blanket, soothing his troubled mind.

He found solace in his thoughts, often retreating there to seek comfort in old memories when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and then heard his master's voice.

Armand didn't hesitate to turn his head and look up at him. He deeply resonated with the words his master spoke, as they echoed his own feelings about being so far from his original home. His hand instinctively wrapped around his master's wrist, pulling him closer and wrapping his arms around him, creating no space between them as he pressed his body into his.

“No, you don’t interrupt my loneliness. You never do; you are always the one I want with me. I know that feeling too, having wished so many times for you to be here with me. Tell me what you need so we can ease this lost feeling a little,” he whispered closely against his ear, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“I hope you don’t mind the blood… I was on the hunt, and it got a little messy tonight.”

@diaboluserebus

Bored of only hunting for the weak and forgotten, the ones nobody would miss as Marius put it, Sybelle had taken an interest for a whole other kind of prey. No seedy murderer or drugged out man living in the outskirts of society, no, the one Sybelle had been watching for several nights was the well-known and well-educated man.

Carl Jefferson owned a bank, no less, and danced his way seemlessly among the privileged crowd and sophisticated invite-only parties. Sybelle was no stranger to those. A lifetime ago her brother would attend on her behalf, soaking up the praise and adoration that she never had any interest in. He wouldn't have taken her, as she didn't know how to act normal, or so he said. She had never wanted to go anyway.

Sybelle also knew too well that as powerful men passed themselves off as sophisticated and virtuous, they turned into monsters behind closed doors. Jefferson had a wife, or truth be told a captive in a gilded cage, unable to break free of her abusive monster of a husband. And then there was the human trafficking ring with the young women, something she could barely stomach.

She'd been watching him for several nights now. It was taking all her willpower not to barge in just now and kill him, but somehow she wanted to make the hunt last.

Sybelle wanted a real hunt. And Sybelle never, ever, hid anything from Armand.

When she got home to Trinity Gate that night, she found her mentor and immediately plopped down the couch besides him with no preambule. Wordlessly, she projected images of the man she was after. His investments into firearms and wars. The monster-husband and the violence in his uptown luxurious penthouse. The money to shut the police up.

"Armand, I want him. I want to kill him."

The time passed a little bit more and he stood up to get out of his office and more comfortable. The sofa was the right place to be right now, the view he had there over the whole city and where he could watch the sky, it gave him some kind of peace. Then he noticed that he wasn't alone anymore and he knew who it was it was Sybelle and he was right there because she plopped right next to him and before he could welcome her back home he got a wave of images of a man, he felt her emotions and he slowly turned his gaze towards her.

"Is that what I have taught you? I don't think he is the right person." He said in a calm voice, he knew what it meant when they would kill someone like him and what attention they would get through this. He was always careful and he knew Sybelle had a certain taste and it was always a challenge to control her there.