There's times Danny isn't sure what this urge he feels should be called.
His latest victim was stalked for two weeks. He followed her carefully through her routine, going to and from work, to the store, the late-night runs to the gas station for drinks and snacks. The all-nighters spent in front of a flickering television. The slow rise and fall of a chest in bed, seen from a sliver of moonlight viewed through a blind carefully parted between fingers.
There's a perfect pleasure in denial. In waiting, learning, watching. Knowing them intimately before he ends them. Sometimes he wonders if that's why he does it.
Deep in the woods Danny returns again, to the abandoned movie theater in the woods. His costume billows past his legs and he peels the white, gaping mask off his face as he passes through the threshold again, a distant sigh of ecstasy in his lips as the bloody knife clatters to the floor. He kneels, supplicates really, in front of a twisted podium made from ticket stands and shredded projectors. He didn't build it, but something about it soothes his thoughts. This place makes a good hideout when the heat is on.
"Got another one," he tells no one. No one but the little voice he's sure can hear him. That's happy for him. That loves him too. "And it's just... not good enough."
Lazy might not have been the best word to describe it, but the Gods did have preferences in their targets. They did lean towards those mortals already corrupted, in the mortal way, but the sins of the world. Given to rage, given to deceit, given to despair.
And hedonism.
Danny watches her. Slaanesh watches him. Observes. Tastes the notes of his dark desire on his tongue and sighs in pleasure, a pleasure aimed at him, a pleasure that would worsen his own needs until they became actions. Where the Prince's want begins and Danny's own ends becomes nigh indistinguishable by the time the end of this hunt is nigh. And that's always where things became dangerous.
A mortal could be satisfied. The Prince cannot. He feels the kill, watches the terrified soul ripped violent from it's body through the repeated fall of a sharpened blade. He does not allow satisfaction to linger for long, flattening the emotion back into emptiness. Into hunger.
He wants more. More extravagant, more bloody, more artistic, more cruel. And Danny will not get the relief he needs until the Serpent is fed.
