Eric pulled his cigarette from between his lips and blew a puff of smoke. It was a chilly night, and the heat from the cigarette warmed his lungs. The streets of London were quiet, but whispers of those still awake hung in the air. It was a select few; women in their houses, attempting to quiet their children and make them sleep, men who worked late and were hurrying home, drunks getting lost in alleys, and the nightwalkers with their customers.
For a few seconds, Eric thought. There was certainly more than the fair share of prostitutes in London...
He scoffed as he realized what he was thinking. No, he wouldn't insult Alan with the souls of whores. They weren't worth his cause, and surely enough their souls weren't pure. There were plenty of others with worthy, pure souls.
Taking another drag, Eric made his way silently down the dark street, keeping his eye out. It was surprising, even to him, how calm he was about what he was about to do. This was the first night out. The night he would become a murderer.
A dog barked in the distance. Eric made his way down an alley, searching for a woman or child. He had always noticed many of them on the streets of London whenever he had previously taken a walk; women and children poor and starving. Why were they so hard to find now that he was looking for them?
After a while of searching, longer than Eric had anticipated, he eventually found a woman, maybe in her thirties, curled up in the corner of an alley, with only a tattered blanket to keep her warm. Well, what a lucky find.
Approaching her, Eric could see that she was either dead, or sleeping. Well, he hadn't noticed any cinematic records in the area recently, so she wasn't dead. Stopping in front of her, Eric contemplated if he should kill her in her sleep, or at least let her know. It would be quicker to just get it done with, but no, he'd at least grant her one thing.
"Hey, wake up." he shook her gently by her shoulder, trying to be as quiet as possible. "Wake up, just for a minute."
The woman stirred, looking at Eric with a dazed, tired expression. "What?" she blinked a bit. "Who are you?"
M'name's Eric," he answered. "What's yours?"
"Olivia," she answered. "What do you want?"
"You don't look so good," Eric avoided her question. "You sick? In pain at all?"
She looked suspicious. "I suppose... I'm not exactly staying in the Queen's palace, after all..."
Eric chuckled. "No, no you're not."
"What do you want? Or did you just come here to make remarks?" She shifted her tattered blanket.
Eric looked at the old thing. It was moth-eaten and dirty, but it was the only warmth she had.
"...Here." Eric slipped off his jacket, a warm one made just for chilly weather. "I came over here to give you it. Keep you warm, ya know?"
Olivia looked nothing less than shocked. She reached forward carefully and took it. "T-thank you."
Eric shrugged. "N'problem. You need it more than me."
She felt the the fabric under her fingers, then slowly put it on. A smile spread slowly across her face. "Thank you... It's... so warm."
"Don't mention it. Just get back to sleep; I bet you'll have a better day tomorrow." He grinned a little bit. Olivia smiled. "You're very kind... Thank you. It's not everyday someone treats me this kindly."
Again, Eric just nodded. "Get back to sleep. It's late."
She smiled, nodding. He watched the young woman lean her head against the brick wall again, asleep in another five seconds. The smile was still etched in her face as she drifted back into sleep. Her last sleep. A sleep from which Eric would be sure she would never woke from.
It wouldn't hurt, Eric knew that. He didn't want to hurt her, not when she was smiling like that. If he was going to take their lives... may as well make them smile. He wouldn't want to reap a vengeful soul, after all. He could end up like Alan; or worse, make Alan's condition even worse.
Raising his scythe, Eric took a breath. He did this everyday. It should be a piece of cake. Still... it wasn't exactly that simple.
Shaking his head, Eric reminded himself who he was doing this for, why it would be worth it in the longrun.
His hand was steady as he swung, the cinematic record spilling out easily. It didn't even fight, which Eric was surprised to see. It seemed willing. What a nice change to many of the souls he encountered on the job.
When it was all said and done, the alley was quiet again. A dog barked in the distance. Eric looked down at the still body of Olivia, slumped against the brick wall, covered only by the tattered blanket, and his jacket. He thought, then decided he may as well leave her with it. It would be difficult to take it off of her, and anyway, he had more at home. That one was never his favorite; he had just grabbed it on his way out.
Taking another drag on the cigarette that never left his lips, Eric turned and began the walk home. One soul was good enough for the first night. For now, he needed nothing more than to crawl back into bed with Alan, and sleep, as if nothing had happened.