#baleful

Those nails positioned themselves around the man’s eye socket, slowly - he made *certain* to move slowly, that was his favorite part of it all - digging them in, through the lids that remained in the way; his smile grew with the hoarse scream of agony followed. “Scream all you would like… there is no one to come to your aid. Your comrades will be next to follow you, to whatever Heavens or Hells your kind believe in.” He rolled his free wrist idly. “You happened to be lucky number one.”

He buried his nails further in, not minding one bit to talk to the man as he screeched. When he was able to reach around, to feel his claws wrap around the ball of his eye - just as painfully slow as going in - he pulled it out, watching the strands of muscle and nerves tear and pop the further out it got. A dark laugh laid low in his throat as he saw the blood pool into the empty socket. “It is good that I had learned my lesson on the robes - rather a pain to clean blood out of white, though if anything were to stain it, it would not be your filthy blood.” 

He set the eye inside of a metal box, idly musing to the man going into shock. “While I have an overabundance of blue eyes already - it does not hurt to be prepared. Yours are quite clear, you know, I may have some use for them.” His eyes turned back down to him, apathy written in them. “And do not think to die yet! I have much need for your aether - and it would simply be a waste of perfectly good energy if you went and did that.” He stood up, searching about for something, and upon finding a decently sized piece of scrap metal, brought it over to rest under his victim’s legs - and as any cruel being, brought a hand over the missing eye and *healed it*, listening to the sobbing chokes as if it were music.

Next was the other eye, where he did much of the same before - this time, immediately healing the wound once it was fresh - the second eye taking its place next to the first. “What to do next, hm…” He tilted his head back and forth in mock thought. “I would do the tongue, but I prefer you screaming, not gurgling. Fingers, mayhaps?” He stood back up, returning to the stark white robes that he had draped over a tree branch to avoid collateral damages to them, shoving bloodied hands inside of a pack that was attached to its belt, digging around dramatically - just for the man to hear several pieces of metal clinking about, giving him some sense of anticipated dread. Out he pulled a knife, not too sharp, of course, to make it all the worse. Even with the wounds and blindness, the man found some adrenaline to run on, trying grasping at dirt and rocks to drag himself away. “Tch.” He had turned about just in time to watch his prey’s feeble attempt to escape and shook his head. “No, no, that will not do. I suggest remaining still - did you not hear me before? What is it with the lack of listening and following directions nowadays? Is your kind not supposed to be excellent at following orders?” 

He meandered back over, slamming his boot into the man’s chest. “Move any more and it will be this heel that finds your heart, not the knife.” He pinned down the first wrist. “For that, I may as well take the whole hand.” And with that, he did. Deliberately sawing through the skin and muscle with the dull blade, all around the edges until there was nothing but the bone left to see - and with several hard yanks towards himself, broke the wrist right off. The smile came back as the body he was tearing to pieces only twitched in response to the stimulation - and still managed to keep him alive through it. “To the other. Save for your actions, you have been doing very well. Perhaps I will not claw out your heart after all. You caught me in a fairly good mood, I may be able to muster some mercy. Usually it is the last I get around to that acts well enough to not draw my ire.”

There were whimpers after that, but even with the wounds, the man still thought of a way to survive - if only so that he could meet a swifter death instead of the torture. If remaining still and letting the reaper take his spoils would grant him some measure of returning home, he stayed that way. He coughed out vain struggles to scream as the other hand was sawed off in the same manner as the last. “Good boy. I will even let you keep your tongue, perhaps you will have time for your final words to your family. Or spread word of me. I care not. Let us hope the rest of your company will be just as cooperative.” He nudged the man’s side with the sole of his boot as he stood back up, all his newly acquired treasures tucked away inside of a metal box. “Ah… almost forgot.” He returned to the man’s side, padded over his uniform for a set of dogtags, wrenching them from the man’s neck, reading over the name. 

“Aureatis.. well, Aureatis, you have been a pleasure to work with today. Let us hope we meet again in the future.” The maliciousness dripped from his teeth as he smiled again, then sauntered over to the next victim; patting his cheek to awaken him from unconsciousness. He frightened at the sight of the blood-splattered grin, strands of pure white hair speckled with red, white shirt stained with the blood of his comrade. “Wh-What-- who are you! Step away!”