My dear readers, I sadly inform you there is very little Spiolet (I agree Giggles789 very odd indeed) in this chapter. I had to get back to the plot as much as I enjoy writing fluff. Oh and since I'm not a serial killer, I just went off what I see in Criminal Minds. It might be cheesy, I apologize.

Blood poured out of the wound. Satisfaction rolled over him like a wave. He twisted the knife as he took it out of the gasping man. The man crumpled to the floor. He made sure to kick him where it he knew it would hurt.

With a grin overtaking his features, George Salem threw his knife on the floor and wiped the blood that had splattered over his face. A chill of happiness took over his body.

Feeling elevated George walked away from the alley, a spring in his step.

Where to now? That was the second man, so his hunting was over but he didn't feel like returning home just yet.

Oh if only he had his bird. She would know what to do!

His pretty pretty little bird. So young and sweet. Her hadn't seen her in such a long time. George had looked but she was gone, the first time she left it was much easier to find her. The man at her tenement was an idiot. Didn't even bat an eye when he asked. But he couldn't go back again, the man might be an idiot but anyone might question his intentions.

Violet, Violet, Violet. He could chant her name forever.

They would be the perfect team.

He would teach her everything he knew about the art of death.

Before he could get very far he spotted another duo. A tingling started in his chest but he had left his knife with the other filth. Oh well they looked too young anyways.

George made sure to bump both of their shoulders as he went by.

"Oi! Watch where you're going!"

He turned towards the voice.

The man, no boy, wasn't that tall, he was average size. George could easily take him.

"Who gave you the right to talk to me filth?"

The boy flared.

"Look here you scum! You don't talk to me like that! This is my turf so unless you want to get the life soaked out of ya I suggest you leave"

George scoffed "Your turf? What are you some type of gang banger?"

The boy was about to swing at him when his companion stopped him.

"He's not worth it Spot and we just fought Staten's boys. C'mon let's go home"

Spot? What a stupid name.

"I better not see you again"

He couldn't help himself, a laugh escaped his mouth.

The punch was out of nowhere, the idiot boy obviously had experience. He was thrown against the brick wall. Regaining himself George swung but he missed. And it was going to cost him. This boy was very quick, he hooked his stomach and sent him back against the wall and to the ground on his knees. George held his stomach and gasped for air, knuckles cracked against his nose, George slumped sideways against the wall.

That was the last blow.

Only three punches.

It was if the boy wasn't that interested in beating him. It was just a statement. A quick lesson.

Taking out his handkerchief George held it against his nose. The boy spit at his feet and walked away. His companion shook his head but loyally followed.

This was an ultimate disgrace, a humiliation. One that would not go unavenged.

I sat with my back pressed against Spot's chest, his legs were outstretched forward around mine. We were reading the same Newspaper together.

"Would you look at that. Trouble has brewed for New York's finest" Spot whispered in my ear.

We had decided that he would read the left page and I would take the right.

"Really? Did someone's wig fall off?" I asked, while looking for the article he had mentioned.

"Apparently Mrs. Sanders had an affair with her future son-in law" Spot said "She was a debutante last summer forced to marry an aging widower who had his own daughter, Rose Sanders, Rose was supposed to marry the young lawyer, Frank Roberts, when a maid found her fiance and step-mother getting cozy in their winter home "

"Hmm... nothing like a good scandal" I joked, staring at the picture of the wealthy family.

"Very good for business" Spot agreed, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Do you think anyone will find out about us?" I asked, biting my lip.

Spot stayed quiet but I could feel his eyes burning themselves onto my face.

"We're careful but I bet they were too and look what happened. They got the third page on one of the most read newspapers in New York"

"I don't think we'll end up on page three of the New York Times, Violet" Spot teased, brushing his nose against my cheek.

"Maybe we will. You'll get all the attention I know you crave" I teased back, turning my face to look at him. Our noses were touching.

"Shut up" He said. He closed the space between us and pressed his lips softly against mine.

Tailing the boy was difficult, he was smart. As if he knew someone might follow him.

He had stalked him all the way to the docks. The brat disappeared and George couldn't help but notice other boys were posted around the pier, all strategically placed. Their was no way he would get past them without being noticed.

So George waited for the right opportunity. He watched their rounds and when they switched shifts. They all answered to the brat, or at least that's what it looked like.

George had to hand it to the brat, as much as he hated him, he had brains. You couldn't get too close to him and he always switched his routine. Almost always.

The brat always returned to the docks at the same time and left at the same time to continue selling papers, he was a newsie. George knew he wouldn't get many chances to crack him open, he was to unsteady to keep up with. Unless he made it past the first line of defense their was no way he would get his revenge.

He had corrupted his bird!

"Spot! Stop it"

Her giggles were intoxicating.

"Say it or I wont stop"

She was his! Only his! Only he knew how to protect her! No one was allowed to touch her but he had put his hands on her! He had touched her! His bird!

His lungs felt like they were going to explode. He needed release.

George pushed things out of his way, he kicked his books on the floor aside and made his way to the kitchen, his eyes opening and closing in different parts of his home. Throwing the cupboard open he took out his knife and headed for the door.

His head was spinning. He kept blacking out.

The lobby wouldn't stay still. When did he make it down the stairs?

"Mr. Salem...Mr. Salem..."

That voice, it was so far away.

The floor caved from underneath him.

"Daddy! Look at me"

"George, what do you think? Orange or brown?"

He was in a field, green grass grew to his knees, a breeze made it dance.

"George?"

He glanced to the voice. His heart stopped.

It was her, she came back, she was here.

"Elise..."

The blond woman reached out and touched his cheek. Her hand was warm and soft.

"Where have you been Elise?"

He looked at her heart shaped face, searching in her brown eyes for anything.

"Daddy!"

Tears brimmed from his eyes.

"Cathrine!"

The small child jumped into his arms.

His family was back.

"Where were you sweetheart?" He whispered against the wild mane of curls.

"Burning"

I proofread this once because I'm lazy and in the next chapter I'll add some more Spoilet.