Hands were beautiful pieces of machinery. They could do so many things. Some could create art, build skyscrapers, amazing technological devices, and create masterful weapons. Hands were the most important part of the body, in his mind. However, his hands were not made for creating. No, they were designed for something so much more complex and beautiful. Torture and murder.
Even now, his hands were doing what he loved most in the world. The girl he had pinned to the cold ground tried to scream, but he clamped his hand down over her mouth to stop the sound from pouring from her throat. He smiled insanely at her, holding the knife against her throat threateningly. Her eyes widened, and she started struggling even harder.
The murderer pulled the rag he had out of his pocket and gagged her. He pinned her hands above her head with one of his. He could just kill her now, but he enjoyed the terrified look on her pretty face. He loved the fact that he was the cause of it. He could have hours upon hours of fun with this one.
However, the night was quickly disappearing, so he had to wrap it up before someone discovered him. He wasn't planning on being arrested anytime soon. That would ruin his plans completely.
So, with this in mind, he used his talented hands to run the jagged knife across her throat in one swift motion. He watched with pure fascination as the blood poured out and over her scantily clad chest onto the concrete below her. Her blue eyes clouded over, life draining from them with each passing second. He waited until the prostitute was dead, lying limply on the ground before setting to work with the rest of his mission.
After removing certain body parts as the man he was copying had done so many years before, the man stood up, packing everything into the bag he'd stashed a few feet away. His hands were still red with the blood of his victim, but he didn't care. He slung the bag over his shoulder and carefully made his way out of the alley, just as the first rays of the sun started peaking over the horizon, and the city seemingly came back to life.
Several hours later, Luck found himself at the crime scene, staring down at the body. He winced slightly at the girl's nails; they were a bloody mess from scratching the concrete trying to get some traction to escape her brutal assailant. He looked the body over for anything out of place, anything that could point him in the direction of the killer.
As he stood, his eyes focused on the mouth of the alley where two men were walking up towards the crime scene. He'd agreed to meet with Maiza and his new partner at the crime scene today after he'd found out about the murder. It was the fourth one in a month and so far there were no new leads. If the present day killer had any differences from Jack the Ripper, it was his frequency.
Luck approached the men as they came down the short alleyway, but paused when the second man came close enough for him to see his face. Then, with an angry expression set on his face, he sped up straight towards the man.
"Genoard!" He shouted, catching the man's full attention.
A similar look came over his face. "Gandor!"
Maiza stared back and forth between them as they came to a standstill in the middle of the alley, seemingly trying to stare each other down. "I guess you two know each other somehow?"
Neither answered him as they glared at each other. Finally, Luck spoke. "I put you at the bottom of the river for a reason, you thug. How the hell did you get out?"
"You underestimated us, Gandor. We're smarter than you gave us credit for."
"How are you even here? You don't have full immortality," he whispered so the others couldn't hear him.
"I got my hands on a bit of the true elixir. Now I'm back and better than ever."
Luck glanced over at Maiza who was listening to their exchange. "Listen, Avaro. I can't work with this guy. He tried to kill me and my brothers back in the thirties."
"And I won't work with him either." Dallas chimed in.
It looked like the two men would start bickering again, so Maiza stepped in to silence the two. "Both of you get over yourselves. There is a monster prowling the city, killing these girls, and you want to let something that happened over seventy years ago get in the way of solving the case? I have a good feeling about you two working together. I think you two can solve this. But if you won't work together, what hope is there? Can't you just put the bad blood aside for now and solve the case? Then you can go back to hating each other after it's done."
Luck and Dallas stared at each other for a moment that seemingly stretched for a long time. Eventually, Luck conceded. "Okay, I'll try to work with him."
Dallas agreed, so Maiza explained to Luck about Dallas's ability. Naturally Luck didn't believe him at first, but hesitantly started when Dallas spewed a bit more information about the most recent killing that he hadn't even told Maiza. What struck Luck as most odd was the way he told the details. It wasn't like he was seeing the body, or even watching the murderer do it. It was more like he was the one doing the killing. The man found it a little unsettling, but chose not to say anything.
He still wasn't sure if he was going to be able to work with the Genoard, but he would try if only because Maiza asked him to. He had a lot of respect for the older immortal, and would do pretty much anything for him. Still, Luck had an odd feeling about the man. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he couldn't shake it, even as they started investigating the body together. It wasn't exactly a negative feeling, but it still made him slightly nervous. He wasn't sure what might come with the association with his former enemy.
This chapter was written by GremlinGirl.
