"Remember my face as you descend to hell, and recall all the fear it instills."

His words flowed vividly, chained together with the furious hissing of a revolver, as the hammer connected with the shell casing, sparking the gunpowder and sending off a 44 round directly into the skull of the begging child before him. An explosion of viceral fluid, bone, blood, and grey matter protruded from the child's hollow skull. The child stayed upon his knees for a moment, eyes wide, as if to be frozen within time, if only it were that way. Sighing, the attacker ran his hand over the dead child's face, closing his eyes before pushing his body over, onto the concrete floor of the alleyway, hidden by the trashbags littered all around.

He shook the revolver by it's handle, letting the smoke sift out for a moment, before opening the flap of his trench coat, sliding it into his shoulder holster. It made a nice click as the button connected, sealing away the wicked steel within leather coils. Adjusting his long unkempt platinum hair, the man walked from the seething darkness covering the back street. He laughed, the bright orange street light caressing his pale white skin. The light reflecting from his optics gave off an eerie glow. His eyes were dead, showing not the slightest emotion, seldom blinking, except when he went to wipe the blood from his brow with the cuff of his sleeve. Such an insipid night, he was no closer to his desire than originally, it seemed that those with the stigma of the Earth simply seemed to keep sprouting back up even as he shot them down. He had scoured the city of Edge for days now, becoming not the slightest bit satisfied with the results, he had killed twenty children, eight young boys, twelve young girls, and two teenagers. Yet not a single sign of the one enigmatic creature he seeked to eradicate. He was sure that he would finally find closure here, but it seemed as if luck was against him this round. It was not that he was fearful of the ensuing chaos each morning as another child's corpse was found dead, and the riots they caused. After all he was not beyond the point of no return, too deep within madness had he gone to simple turn back and run.

Slowly he closed his eyelids, letting them drop like shutters over his translucent emerald eyes. He heard every echoing footstep his boots made so clearly, he could map out his every movement simply by sound. The crackling of neon streetsigns, the hissing of television sets left to static, and even the occasional shout. His eyes quickly snapped open as he reached the center of the city, staring up at the ruins of the decrepit statue that was once a symbol for this town, now nothing more than scrap and rubble. Even if the rain had washed away the stigma on the children, he could smell it on their skin, that horrid and putrid stench that he remembered oh so fondly. The scent of the one leading him onward.

His eyes scanned the dead streets of the city, and he was enveloped in a childish facade for a moment. His small stature, 5'9", 130, he was seemingly exactly as his facade, a child. Even as he ran forward, giggling like a little child, his eyes held that same apathy within their glassy spheres. He slowed for a moment, and then bolted, as he moved towards the center of the square. He abruptly stopped, without losing momentum as he reached a yard from the steel scaffolding surrounding the old monument. He applied his momentum to his heel, and then toes, leaping up two meters, arch of his foot catching the slanted bars where they intersected. Once more, he pressed his weight into his foot, launching himself onto the next section, until he had scaled three stories simply with his legs. At this juncture he felt his body twist, as he spun upward, onto the scaffolding's flat top. Spinning his left leg out and catching the other side of the five foot board, steadyiing himself. He caught the side going outward with the arch of his foot, in an awkward acrobatic shape. Lettng the pressure release from his left foot, he wobbled momentarily, steadying himself with a the scabbard of his nodachi.

He shook his bangs from his eyes, once more overlooking the scenerey. Letting out a soft giggle he pressed all his weight downward, before pushing off his feet into a backflip, he went from the scaffolding to the top sperical point on the ruined statue. He smiled, letting out a sharp scream, resembling a banshee cry. It felt so good, this churning within his stomach. The invigorating feeling of the cool breeze on his skin. His clothing flailed on that same breeze. Pushing back the lower portion of his trench coat, revealing his black leather pants, and all it's frays. His shirt also became visible, bright orange. He even felt his dog tags rattle underneath his garbs, which made his happiness end. He scoweled, gripping the hilt of his nodachi, Murasame, so tightly that crimson taint began to seep from his digits and onto the hiltwrap, hinting at the origin of it's scarlet tint. From his lips escaped an incredibly booming voice, his eyes glowing irridescent, his skin beginning to seethe, releasing vapor from his pores.

"Oh ye children of the planet, come to me, and allow me to cleanse you of your impurities! Allow me to free you from your vacant lives! I am the harbinger of new life! Embrace me so that you may be with those you love for all eternity! Give your soul to me!"