Hey! Sorry for the long hiatus, I've just been super busy! Look forward to a few more updates from me!

anyway this little drabble helped with my writers block...it was a fun take on a sad dynamic.

the prompt that inspired it:

"You're a serial killer who hunts other serial killers, not out of nobility, but because you love the thrill of outsmarting them."

Jerza

Rating: M

Underbelly AU

She had to get her breathing under control. The ragged rhythm was a little too loud for the stealth she needed. She couldn't give herself up just because of her nerves. She couldn't faulter because of her heart. She'd already turned her back on everyone else by committing a sin against her very nature.

"You need to relax." Erza reprimanded under her breath. The redhead was quick to take a breath in and hold it. one second turned to five and then she was feeling lightheaded. Exhale. Her shaking hand steadied on the hilt of her sword with the resettling of her armor. She had a goal to accomplish, and she was so close she could practically taste it: bitter and tangy; what she associated bloodlust with. Leaning back against the bark of the large tree she was hiding behind she licked her lips and found herself frowning lightly. Erza had been hot on the trail of a known murderer, one feared far and wide. She'd watched him cut down innocents with ease. She'd watched him mutilate her own heart and turn it into something almost unrecognizable. At this point she wasn't even sure if she was doing this for the right reasons. She just knew that the thrill was what kept her moving. A snapping twig to her left had her sucking in a quiet breath and tensing. A low chuckle sent the hair rising on the nape of her neck and had her widening her stance.

"You never give up do you?" echoed in the silence of the forest. She didn't dare answer. With sure footing, Erza stepped silently around the large trunk keeping her concealed to another tree a shorter distance away. Her feet made no noise, but her heartbeat was loud. Her heart threatened to leap out of her mouth and take flight. She exhaled silently again, willing her heart to slow down. She needed to be mentally sharp if she as going to come out of this alive. "My beautiful Erza," his voice practically purred, "I know you're following me. You should just come out."

She ignored the compulsion buried in that statement. Her eyes flicking along the blood trail that led her further into the woods. The sight made her blood sing, a feeling she'd become familiar with once she got over the revulsion. The scarlet color similar to her hair, the hair he seemed to love so much. This time she was going to make sure it was his. She had a duty, even if it was just to herself.

"Erza," a short statement. the snapping of twigs started all around her, a rock skidded across the ground and the singing cicadas finally quieted. The forest was dead silent, except for the continual snapping of tree limbs. Erza continued her start-stop motion further, following the path of blood. She ignored the sounds of movement all around her, used to this mental game. It would take a lot more than that to confuse her. She was used to these games of theirs. Learned to love them.

"You know I've never been one to fall for that, Jellal." Erza breathed out steadily. The sound carried, twisted, sounded like a lover's caress. Her body hummed with anticipation, and she found herself excited for the coming battle. A true game of wit and strength. "I've been waiting a long time for this," the redhead continued, stepping directly onto the path. She heard more than felt her boot slosh onto something wet, a large puddle that shouldn't have been there. It hadn't rained in months. She relaxed her stance and stood in the open. Waiting. One minute turned into two and still Erza did not move. The tip of her sword pressed into the gravel, in a relaxed position; it put her at a disadvantage, as if she wouldn't be able to move quickly. That was the allusion she wanted to present anyway. "You will pay for the blood on your hands."

"That's like the pot calling the kettle black," Jellal mused as he stepped out into the open a few paces further up the path, "You didn't earn the name 'Scarlet Knight' for your sparkling clean reputation." Erza's gaze jumped to his face. The face she loved, still covered in blood. It dripped down his chin, rolled down the column of his neck and stained his blue vest navy. She blinked and it was gone, the only sign of blood reflected in his eyes; the glint of her hair in their depths. "Your hands are dirtier than mine, Erza." She took a shaky breath and found her eyes flicking to her armor, which was slicked with blood. The blood of those she'd killed to keep Jellal all to herself. It was the start of her devolution, her resolve. There was always a price to pay. Always.

"I never claimed to be clean, Jellal," she practically sighed. She lifted her sword, flicking it quickly and tried not to flinch at the sound of liquid hitting the surrounding leaves, splattering the grass. She wanted to forget the blood that coated her. It had all been to lead up to this moment. "I couldn't have anyone else get in the way," She practically whispered. Erza could still hear the screams ringing in her ears, from her own hand and from Jellal's; the worst was she couldn't tell which stung the most.

"I guess not," He responded lowly, his stance changing. He didn't pay any attention to the scattered bodies in the woods surrounding them or the dismembered limbs that still bled steadily. The air was heavy with decay, with memories and emotions. They had a score to settle after all.

"What's one more body if it means I can stop you!" Erza roared while rushing forward.

"What's one more body," Jellal agreed.