So late at night, even Rome’s streets were wont to grow dangerous.
Still, though he kept his guard up, Abel knew there was little for him to worry about—the dangers lurking in the dark were closer to petty thieves and common delinquents rather than any real threat to someone who could hold their own, and the nighttime gave him a certain freedom of operation... regardless of how much he would rather have been sleeping.
It gave him something to do nonetheless and meant he didn’t have to put up with night terrors aside, but even nightmares were starting to sound more appealing than this.
It was hard work, taking down a Methuselah in the dead of night. Seeing wasn’t an issue, he could discern his surroundings just fine, but the sound. Abel had struggled to keep their battle confined to the alleyway and out of sight of the main road but, in the end, the Methuselah was little more than a fledgling at best, caught in a conflict he surely hadn’t meant to. There was only one way it could have ended. And, at the end of the day... Abel’s feeding opportunities were few and far in between. He’d had little choice but to take advantage of the opportunity.
He hadn’t even completely stood up and away from the body by the time he felt eyes on him, and he knew full well that, while the shadows may have concealed most of the gruesome scene around him, the most obvious of his monstrous features were not so easily hidden. Abel stilled, and dread filled his heart. He could not bring harm to one who wouldn’t harm him, he refused.
Just slightly he turned, casting an eye over his shoulder and towards the mouth of the alley, and the light of the street. “H... hello?”