T/W Drugging and bodily harm
Another successful night, you had managed to get home before Alastor and he was still none the wiser to your little experiment. However, there was something off with him that morning. You could not place your finger on what it could be but you felt as though his eyes were on you more than normal. But whatever he was thinking, he did not voice it to you.
That morning after Alastor finished reading it, gathering topics for his broadcast, you took the newspaper he had just been reading. The grizzly details of your latest kill were spread across the front page as well as an article about the disappearance of Mrs Hidland whom you supposed was to be his victim of the night. Nobody had been found but she had been last seen drinking last night and headed home around 1 AM. However, she did not make it back home.
Maybe this was something you needed to start looking into. Your murders had been vicious and bloodthirsty with no thoughts on how to dispose of the body, whereas Alastor's, he took such care in how he went about things. You knew Mrs Hidland's body would never be found, no amount of searches or sniffer dogs would catch him. You weren't sure how long Alastor had been killing for, even if you were to research the matter, it would be hard to tell the difference between his kills and genuine disappearances. Furthermore, you doubted if he would tell you a true number, if he even remembered it, that was. You may have acquired plenty of medical knowledge to perform your own kills but all of that went out of the window when you first saw the pools of crimson.
"Good morning New Orleans, Alastor on the air with WWL 833.3!" Alastors voice chimes out over the radio. "As of last night, a notable lady of our city has been reported missing. Beloved socialite, Mrs Hidland. Her husband is urging anyone with information surrounding her disappearance to come forward to the police. More on that later. There has been another gruesome killing, due to the brutal nature of the murder, we are unable to provide the victim's identity. We do know the victim was male, around 5'11 in height, and possibly someone working in manual labor. We urge you to check in on loved ones and make sure they are all well."
Alastor proceeded to report on the details. Each cut, stab, and slash you'd made on the body. How you'd opened up his abdomen, removed the internal organs, and placed them beside the corpse. What really made your heart swell with pride is when he used the phrase 'surgical precision' when describing your removal of the organs. Suggesting they were looking for a male assailant. Maybe you wouldn't have to be as careful in your kills as you had once thought. Your mind went to the story of Jekyll and Hyde. How you had referred to Alastor as such but this could be the perfect cover, you could create the image of a skilled surgeon who had snapped and gone on a killing spree. No one would expect a well-mannered lady, housewife, and daughter of the chief of police. The thoughts of which got you craving your next kill. You knew you should wait until Alastor made his move but patience had never been one of your virtues.
That night when Alastor returned home, you were dolled up, ready for a night on the town, ready to take your next lecherous victim. You knew the location of a speakeasy and from Ruth had gathered the password since Gabriel had acquired a job there. "Darling, don't wait up for me. I am off to see the girls tonight. I expect we'll be out until the early hours of the morning. So rest easy and I will see you at breakfast." You had said nonchalantly. "I appreciate it is a girl's night but I would like to at least escort you home if you give me a time to meet you?" Alastor offered. "Oh no need to worry, I am more than capable of getting myself home safely." You shrugged off his concerns. "I am sure you are but there is another killer out on the streets and it is my duty to make sure you are looked after." He persisted. "Darling, don't worry. Remember I might be fragile but I have my thorns. I can handle myself." You insisted. "Well, maybe this killer also has thorns as well." You froze for a second, was he on to you? "Well, I think mine are sharper." You chuckled and he pushed the topic no further.
You headed to Oak Street and knocked on the backdoor, a shutter slid across and you were greeted by a pair of eyes. "Church on a Sunday. I am here for the blood of Christ." The shutter slammed shut and for a moment you were worried that you had gotten the wrong code, you had been informed that the phrases were changed frequently. Your worries were put to rest when you heard several heavy deadbolts slide, followed by a chain and the door creaked open. The establishment was empty but you were led to the back of the now-silent bar. The man opened a door that led to a set of stairs to the basement. He gestured for you to go down but did not follow, only closing the door behind you and you heard his footsteps trail off.
At the bottom of the stairs there was another door, the faint sounds of music could be heard from the other side. You opened it to find a full house, the pungent smell of cheap, poorly produced alcohol burnt your nose. You made your way over to Ruth and Gabriel who were locked in a lover's embrace. You cleared your throat to announce your presence and they pulled away, showing none of their usual panic at being caught with one another. "I see you two have finally some confidence in this little...Well, whatever this thing is." You gestured to the both of them, not quite sure how to address their situation or relationship.
"It's great Lil!" Ruth slurred out. "No onebody can say nothing because if they do I just ask them, they saw us and they shut up." Ruth was clearly already hammered. Her words did bring you to a new revelation. Speakeasies would become the perfect hunting ground. The people attending them would be less likely to speak up about who they had seen there, they would not wish to admit to being in attendance at such a venue. This would mean that even if anyone did see you leave with a potential victim they would either keep their mouth shut or they would have to give the police false statements to cover their own asses. "Well, that is wonderful news indeed. I had suspected we would spend the night together but I suppose I should find myself someone else to entertain myself with." Ruth's eyes furrowed at your statement. "What Alastor about him, I thought you now married a woman now?" She managed to slur out although it had taken you a moment to understand what she had said. "Well me and him have an arrangement and don't you worry your little head about it." You said no more on the matter and Ruth did not seem to care for the details anyway.
You made your way to the bar but as you did, locked eyes with a gentleman standing with a couple of friends in well-tailored suits. As you waited for service, you kept an eye on him, not making it obvious but seeing him nudge one of his friends before sauntering over to you. "Well, what is a lady like yourself doing in a place like this?" A phrase you had heard a million times before and honestly, you found it to be an exhausting pick-up line. "Well I could turn that on you, what is a gentleman such as yourself doing here?" The barman approached you both and you looked at the man, fluttering your lashes. "So are you buying?" You could see a moment of hesitation but his eyes traced the curves of your body before nodding.
The two of you took your drinks into the club, moving past the bodies and finding an unattended makeshift booth. "So you never answered my question." He said. "And how rude of you to not even ask my name or introduce yourself." You retorted. "I'm John and you are..?" Your approach had him on his toes, clearly not used to a woman taking charge. For as much as you enjoyed how Alastor could challenge you, you did miss how you could make a man falter so easily. "Well John, my name is Lilian. And to answer your question...I'm here for the same reason everyone else is. To drink and have a good time." As you said this a smile crept across his face, a look in his eyes that made you feel nauseous. He wasn't an unattractive man by any means, but the way he was undressing you with his eyes made you think back to Alastor.
You knew he had given you the free will to entertain other male company if you so chose to. But you found this uncomfortable pit of the stomach feeling at the thought of doing so. John placed a hand on your exposed knee and you sharpishly batted it off. "You're gonna have to do more than buy me a drink if you think you're going to be touching me." You snapped. "So what? You're on the knock?" He asked, now preparing to stand up. You stood up with him. "No, nothing quite like that but at least try and woo a lady before you put your hands on her. How about we go somewhere a bit more quiet so I can actually hear those sweet words." You began to make your way to the door which you had first come through but John grabbed your arm and shook his head. "First time here, I see." You nodded and he led you to the cellar doors that would lead out onto the street.
"We should probably get somewhere a bit more secluded, don't want to be bringing attention to the bar." You whispered, already heading off down an alleyway. "So what do you want to do down here dollface?" John leered at you when you eventually stopped walking. "Well, I thought we came out here to talk." You had dropped the playful demeanor you had in the club. "Oh, you want me to whisper you sweet nothings in your ear?" As he speaks, he closes the gap between the two of you. You jab a finger into the middle of his chest, pushing him back from you and rolling your eyes. "You know gorgeous, you can catch more flies with honey, you should try being a little sweeter." He sneered.
A smile spreads across your face as you trace one finger down the lapels of his suit jacket, distracting him from your other hand which is now slowly creeping into your bag. "Oh is that so?" You purr out, keeping your eyes fixed with his. "You know it is baby girl." He stops as you slide the needle into the side of his neck and press down the plunger. "Because I think I can catch just as many flies with your corpse." You smirk. He grabs the needle from his neck and proceeds to pin you to the wall of the alley raising his hand with the needle as though to stab at your face. Unlike the first two, John had been more built and the effects of the morphine were taking longer to work. There was also the mistake of letting him get you so close to the wall with no means of escape should this encounter turn as nasty as it just had. You closed your eyes and awaited the needle to pierce and tear at your skin.
Nothing. You felt John's body slam across you and as you opened your eyes you were greeted with the face of another man. Alastor. He let go of John's hair which he had grabbed hold of to slam his face into the wall behind you. John's body slumped to the ground and Alastor turned his gaze to meet yours. "Friend of yours ?" His words echo what you had said on the wedding night. "No, just a man who didn't know how to take rejection." You tried to shrug off. "Well, it was a lucky coincidence you were carrying..." Alastor looks at the needle and back at you, putting two and two together. "I assume morphine?" He said, now picking up the needle from the floor. You could feel the panic rise, not even 3 kills to your name and you were already being caught out. "I told you I could look after myself." You snap and Alastor arches a brow to you. "I am sure you have more things in your bag that would allow you to do so. But when you flirt with me so boldly as to take a man's life. How could I stay away from you?"
You weren't sure how much he had seen or heard but you were sure it was enough. "Well I don't know how long he's gonna be out for but I would suggest we get out of here quickly." You snatch the needle from Alastors hand and try to cram it in your bag. "Tut tut tut." Alastor wags his finger at you. "He may not have seen my face but he's seen yours. My darling if you are to follow in my footsteps, you can not be leaving the job half done. However, this man could be a help to us both." He now begins to lift up John's body, lifting one arm over his shoulder and placing the other around his waist. You take his other arm and place it over yours, sharing the weight as you drag the body down the backstreets.
"Alastor!" A woman's voice called from the top of the road. You're paralyzed with fear, your throat constricted, and your knees trembling—you feel like you're about to collapse. Fear consumes you. Alastor however does not miss a beat. "Sammy, dearest, How are you this evening? How are Mark and the kids?" His tone is calm, collected, and without a hint of fear. "Oh, you know me, same old, same old. Looks like your friend has seen better days." Sammy laughs. "That's my wife and I think she still looks ravishing even after a night on the town," Alastor replies to which brings Sammy to laugh harder. "I meant the other one." Alastor shakes his head. "Not a friend of mine but he was certainly intoxicated when we found him. Just trying to be a good samaritan and get the poor chap home." Alastor chimes and Sammy nods in response. "Well don't let me keep you, lovely to meet the missus." Sammy offers you a smile and you reciprocate.
Thankfully she was the only person you ran into that night but you realised you still had a long way to go before you were on Alastors level. You had felt like hot shit the other nights, invincible but when you were faced with being caught. You crumbled on the spot. Thankfully Alastor had been there, his ability to remain calm and improv was something to be admired. In your state of shock, you had not realized that you were actually heading towards your home. So lost in your own thoughts it wasn't until you came face to face with the ostentatious gates to the property that it dawned on you.
"What are we doing bringing him here!?" You cried out, still trying to keep your voice hushed but unable to contain your shock at the idea. "You have a wine cellar that's not getting a lot of use and I don't see George being the kind of gentleman to snoop or be stealing from his employer," Alastor replied and continued to move the body towards the front door. "You're insane!" You rasped. "My darling, I stepped away from my wedding night to kill a man. Honestly, I'm surprised it's taken you so long to click on to the idea." He quipped. It was clear he did not truly believe himself to be insane but more making a joke of the situation at your expense. He was however correct in his statement, should anything he did, come as a surprise to you at this point?
The two of you dragged the body down into the cellar and Alastor got to work looking for some rope. He began to tie the man up, starting with the wrists and ankles. As you watched him work you felt a tingle course through your body. "When are you going to tie me up like that?" Your question stopped Alastor in his tracks. "Well considering what I have planned for this man I don't think you would enjoy that." He said, finishing off the last knot, now turning to face you. The cellar had a single, overhead lamp that cast dark shadows on the angular features of his face. You stepped up to him, fluttering your lashes. "Oh, I don't know about that. Have I ever shied away when things have become rough between us?" There was that twinkle in his eyes as the words left your lips. "Darling, if you let me I would break you." His voice was low and husky as he spoke. "And I would be fine with that because I know you would pick up the pieces and put me back together afterwards."
You brought your bodies closer, your lips brushing his as you spoke. You could feel his breath growing heavy at such thoughts and hoped he would close the distance between your lips but instead, he pulled away. "We still have work to do. Would you fetch some parchment, please?" You could not help but sigh at his response but still obediently left the cellar to fetch some and a pen. When you return, John is now suspended from the ceiling like meat in a butcher's shop. A wad of cloth in his mouth. Another tied around his head, covering his eyes. "I mean I'm still not opposed to you doing that to me." You said, handing him the parchment and pen. "My darling, you know I am normally one to feed into your appetites but now is not the time." He takes your chin and tilts your face up, placing a kiss on your lips. "But do not worry, you will not be unsatisfied by the end of tonight. I promise you."
The two of you sat in silence, watching the time and watching John. You had another dose of morphine to hand as you waited for him to awaken. You had tried making small talk but Alastor had insisted on silence. John might not have been able to scream for help nor would he be able to see either of you but he could still hear you. Whilst Alastor was confident he would not be able to escape the binds he had been placed in, on the off chance that he should escape, you needed to keep as much anonymity as possible. After a couple of hours, John began to stir. Calm to begin with but as the minutes ticked on, he tried to scream, to escape the ropes that held him. Alastor said nothing still, now writing down on the paper. Observing how his demeanor changed.
After a few more minutes Alastor put down the pen, took out his knife and you were prepared to finally see him take a life in front of your eyes. But he didn't, instead poking John with the tip of the blade in his thighs. Not enough to draw blood but John did not react to the sensation, still numbed from your drugs. Alastor continued to note down his findings. He had a few moments before he would stand and repeat the procedure until eventually, John flinched at the knife, trying to move away from it but only able to sway the ropes. Now Alastor was stabbing the blade deeper into his flesh, monitoring every reaction John gave. Eventually, he gave you the nod and you administered another dose of morphine.
You had expected that to be the end of it but he took notes until John's body grew to be limp once more. The two of you exited the cellar. "We will need to get a lock for this door." He stated. "Why would we need a lock?" You asked bewildered. "Well, should our guest escape, it is a second line of defense." Alastor replied, folding up the piece of parchment and tucking it in his pocket. The two of you headed upstairs to bed and Alastor fulfilled his promise to you that night albeit without the ropes and a gag.