MM23 [Jack H]
It felt like forever since the last time he'd killed, when in reality, it wasn't so long ago. Moments, hours, days, weeks. None of it really mattered time wise. Every kill was in his mind, perfectly preserved so that he could visit them again at any moment. Any time he liked, he could go back and relive every second. Feel the blood on his hands again. The knife blade sinking into flesh. The screams. The struggles. That first acrid aroma of blood as it hit the air and continued to spill out.
Hannibal moved the hallways, silently, carefully. Hunting.
Maroon eyes surveyed the vast expanses, through the darkness, looking for silhouettes, for bodies. His sharp ears listening for the tell tale beating of another human heart. His own rhythm carefully toned down into background noise.
His fingers gently clutched the handle of a wickedly curved knife. Something he might have picked up from reading his own books. A deadly osprey claw-shaped serrated blade. His intention was to use it on the next person he came across.