#bryantlowe

Flesh laid on the floor in little strips, the human hung, with its arms bound against the wall, above it's head, gagged, silent, except for the little whimpers. Screams muffled by leather as the Prince put blade to body again and sliced in, peeling the skin back.

He cut right from the shoulder, his hand moving expertly down the chest only to have the man pass out again, causing the Prince to sigh, and put a hand to his forehead, he was about to heal him, to use his grace for his own pleasure, something Apadiel would call a waste, and something that would weaken him a little, when he heard the door open, with a key no less.

A grin started to spread over his face, he glanced to the door of his play room before shouting to the young male "I'll be out in a minute, rabbit." The only person that had a key was Bryant, the little human he'd met and grown quite fond of.

Knowing he was safe, that the boy was no threat, his palm pressed against the males head, healing him just enough to make him conscious again, and the Prince smirked. 

Things had been dull lately, it had been over 48 hours since Astaroth bumped into that Librarian at 4b and the apartment had been cleaned and was ready for his inspection before he let it out again. He was stood at the open door to the place, imagining the body, just laid there, the glass shattered around him, sticking out of the wound. Gruesome, really.

Thoughts of blood and the past normally cause the Prince to loose track of time, and despite him having one of his bad days, he managed not to drift off into his thoughts too much, even with a vary vivid picture of that corpse and the open fridge that the Librarian had taken the drink from. It was a calming thought, and he was soon moving on to that young man with the backpack, a smirk sweeping over his face as he thought about him, and that delightful whimper like noise that left him when he broke his wrist. Delicious.

He tapped on the wooden door frame, leaning inside, inhaling what was probably meant to be fresh air, since the window to the apartment was open, but all he got was the stench of bleach, he wondered how much cleaning fluid it had taken to get rid of the scent of death and decay, to clean up the blood.

Astaroth found himself wandering the streets minutes later, it didn’t take all that long for a Prince to get information out of people, and he was at the door of the alleged Librarian in minutes, his fingers brushed over the wood of the door, but he didn’t knock, he didn’t need to knock, he was a Prince, and besides, as he stroked down the wood and wrapped his fingers around that handle, he found it open, it took nothing more than a little nudge of his foot, and it was seining open.

“Well hello there little rabbit, you’re not the easiest person to find.” he smiled, using a hand wipe not just because he’d just touched a door handle God knows how many humans had put their filthy hands on before he had, but because he still had blood on them from pulling the information out of his helpful informants, those that helped him find the young man he was looking for. He didn’t kill them, well, one of them he had, but the man was human and more than deserving, the others he’d just tortured a little till they talked.

“I had to go through 4 people to get this address. Your clients are loyal, you should be thankful of that.”

It was rare for Sariel to end up in a part of the city that she wasn't familiar with. That was not to say that she had explored the entire city, but she had been in Purgatory long enough to at least be familiar with most of the rundown neighborhoods and neglected streets, all of which all seemed to be in various states of decay and distress. But this particular neighborhood...Was not familiar to the angel. Which made her all the more wary as she picked her way quickly down the sidewalk. As she moved, Sariel took in the various buildings, most of which sat unoccupied but a surprising number showed signs of life; the soft glow of lights reflected outwards from occupied room, the muffled sound of music, and the low tones of voices speaking. As she walked past the buildings, she searched for house numbers or some way to distinguish that she was on the right path, or at least close to her destination. All she knew was that book boy-no, Bryant, lived in a basement apartment, in this part of the city. She had thought it would be easy to find, but now...it seemed hopelessly vague. Her dark eyes scanned the lower levels of the buildings as she passed and most of them looked abandoned or beyond the point of any human (or angel) wanting to live in such a space. After a few minutes, and almost deciding to give up, she stopped abruptly before a building that looked a little less...decrepit than the rest. The set of stairs that descended below the level of the street didn't look quiet as terrifying as the rest. Deciding that this was the place, or at least willing to take a gamble as to who or what she might find behind this door, she skipped down the rain slick stairs and rapped her well inked knuckles against the wood. Waiting a few seconds, Sariel knocked again and then stepped back from the door, wiling to give Bryant, or whoever lived here, a few moments to come to the door before she bailed. The angel slid her hands into the warm pockets of her leather jacket and looked upwards, studying the dark, cloudy sky for a moment, unsure if this 'Librarian' could even help her. Was it even possible for a dream dictionary to end up in Purgatory? Before she was able to dwell any longer on that question she heard rustling behind the door, and stepped towards it, clearing her throat before speaking.