He trudged through the streets quite casually despite what had happened only an hour before. He flipped the bloody switch blade open and close, open and closed, a smooth rhythm as he puffed smoke from his pursed, full lips. Turning to go into another dark alleyway, the man decided to let his guard down and hum a little tune he came up with. After a couple cars passed by he started to hear a pair of quite footsteps. Eli? He thought. He whipped his head around in a cloud of smoke. There was nothing there. Must've been a cat or something... Shaking his head, he moved on. He threw his heavily tattooed arms in the air to stretch then tossed his cigarette on the ground.

"Where the fuck is Eli, anyway?" he groaned to himself, crushing the embers with the toe of sneaker. "He should be here by now."

"Well, I don't know where Eli is, but I see that you're quite the sinner yourself," said a soft voice from behind him. The man quickly turned himself around to see his company, open switched blade at the ready. But it was too late for that. "Mr. Jamal Rodriguez." The voice said moving next to the man named Jamal. In an instant, the figures claws clutched the man's neck and shoved him against the alley's wall. "I saw what you did to that young lady, just the street over. Poor lass she was," it cooed.

"Wh-who the hell are you?" Jamal managed to choke out. He saw a brilliant, sharp toothed, smile coming from the figure. After a moment of stalling, it stepped from the shadows so that he could finally see it's deadly beauty. Male. Quite pale with scruffy, blonde hair. He wasn't very tall, probably only around 5, 6'' but was holding Jamal's neck tightly against the wall with only one scrawny arm. But, of course, one would not notice these minor details first. Emeralds shone brightly in place of the beautiful beast's eyes, clearly hungry for the sinful man's blood. The smile was snow white and there were daggers replacing his canines. All of his corpse-like body wanted to splatter blood across the ground.

Jamal shook as sweat broke on his brow. Despite his fear, he pressed on, asking "Who the hell are you? Answer me!" The smile left the pale face. So many options came to mind at this time of his nightly hunt.

"Hear me when I tell you this. I don't like it when my meal asks stupid questions. Or when they play games to try and stall their deaths," he snarled. "However, I suppose there's no point in hiding it considering you won't taddle on me anytime soon." He chuckle at the thought, looking back up with the gorgeous smile plastered onto his face once more. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. I do not exist. And soon, Mr. Rodriguez, neither will you..."