[Episode] The Bloody Chamber

Noah was sitting at the counter of the bar he might label as his favourite one- the Stoneridge. Since he came of age, it was probably the establishment he visited the most. Though, at first glance, it could be hard to see why. Situated in some poorer parts of Bleue Fontaine, people here were bawdy, less formal, said what was on their minds, but most importantly just wanted to have a good time without following any protocol present at court or more fancy establishments.

To put it nicely, Stoneridge was run down. A gloomy atmosphere, its furniture had seen better days, and the distinct smell of spilt beer, sometimes mixed with other odours one does not wish to think about, lingered in the air whenever one dared to enter. Daring to enter was indeed needed, as many of the local citizens made sure to search for a better place to stay, whereas for others it was precisely the charm they needed. Unknowing tourists hardly found their way here, too. Its visitors preferred to be among themselves.

However, the queer, deviating from the atmosphere found in every other bar, vibe was precisely the charm its regular guests, like Noah, looked forwards to. Here, every customer was treated with respect as long as they showed a bare minimum of human decency, while nobody had to be somebody they were not just to fit in. Though it certainly helped how Stoneridge’s regulars decided to defy the norm to begin with.

Only a few women were brave enough to enter and those who did usually enjoyed their stay. Most of them had a peculiar taste in their partners which was hard to come by, whereas others simply enjoyed being left in peace. While the vast majority of Stoneridge’s clientele was male, stemming from different classes and standing, they all shared at least one aspect: their taste in partners. At Stoneridge, women could enjoy their drinks in peace, unless they were looking for one of their own, not having to deal with brash men trying to flirt with them. Here, visitors were more focused on flirting with their own than it would be possible in other places. As queer as Stoneridge was, so were its customers as well.

Here, seeing kissing men was no oddity. Before their amorous endeavour could escalate, though, they were usually thrown out by the barkeeper to find more private chambers. Since Noah came to peace with who he was, he enjoyed being here. There was no need to adjust here- Noah could flirt with other men without fearing repercussions. Other than the occasional rejection everybody else had to fear as well, of course.

Tonight, Stoneridge was well-frequented, with many visitors intermingling in smaller groups. The redhead was one of the few who was still solo, checking the other customers out, imagining what the night had yet to offer. After a while, Noah’s eyes locked on somebody he declared as his target for tonight, sitting at the other side of the counter, almost the definition of what a twink would be: with blond hair and blue eyes, an effeminate appearance with a slender build, and roughly the same age as Noah, but looking as if he knew what he wanted. When Noah was just about ready to leave his place, a man suddenly leaned on the counter next to the redhead, casually addressing him. ”Are you sure you’re looking for boys if you can have a real man instead?”

Without waiting for a response, he placed a drink he brought with him in front of Noah. ”If you would do me the honour of having a drink with you. Don’t they say, ‘old horses for young riders, young horses for old riders’?” For a moment he smirked, suggestively teasing Noah. ”Anyways, if they don’t, they totally should. I’m pretty sure whatever you had planned to do with that boy over there won’t be as fun as what I could do to you.” When Noah now looked into the stranger’s eyes, he felt as if he was peeled out of his clothes with eye contact alone. Unsure if what he had heard would be a threat or a flirt, Noah decided to believe it was the latter.

"Oh, what would you do to me if I let you?" Noah took the drink and sipped at it, unable to name what he was tasting, before he decided to tease the man a bit himself. "I don’t want to risk you getting a heart attack. I mean, aren’t old horses quickly exhausted?" With his lips still wet, Noah slowly licked over them without realizing it, taking a closer look at his vis-à-vis. He had thick blue, almost black, hair which was gelled backwards and striking facial features which were framed by a similarly blue and thick beard which almost reminded Noah of a mane. His eyes were almost black, managing to make somebody freeze if directly looked into. To boot he was big, probably a few inches taller than Noah, though his build looked slenderer than Noah’s, as far as the redhead could judge through all those clothes.

But most importantly, he was a good chunk older than Noah was- he guessed the man was in his late twenties, though the mane could easily be distracting. ”Oh, don’t you worry about me, little robin. Old horses precisely train with young riders because they want to stay in good shape.” Noah had to giggle, looking at his drink which was now almost empty. He felt surprisingly light, questioning how much he had drunk already. Or was simply all the flirting and teasing getting to his head? "Why don’t you show me what you can do, then? Lead the way."

Without waiting for another answer, Noah sealed the man’s lips with a kiss, while simultaneously grabbing hold of one of his partner’s hands, slowly leading him outside of Stoneridge. Before Noah left the establishment, though, he quickly placed some money on the counter to pay for his debts. "As charming as Robin could be, the name’s Noah Lacroix." The man, meanwhile, followed Noah at first, before quickly leading the way as soon as the night’s air grazed the couples’ faces. ”Levio. Levio Delgado.” After a short break which Levio took to inspect Noah once again, he ultimately continued. ”How unfortunate. Just when I remembered all those little robins I caught as a child I ran into you, reminding me of those. You know what, an old horse’s memory isn’t the best, so you’ll be my little robin.” With that, Noah doubted he would hear his actual name too much in the hours ahead. Not that there would be much time spent talking, anyways.

Noah followed Levio, who led Noah further and further away from town. The fresh air helped him to sober up a bit- emptying the cocktail might not have been the best idea. It took the duo not long and they seemed to travel near a forest, only passing one farmhouse. If Noah saw correctly, the farmer would raise pigs here, but that was rather hard to tell in the darkness- the moon was probably the biggest source of light right now. "Isn’t this usually the part in detective stories when the victim realizes that following the murderer might’ve been a bad idea?"

When the man turned around now, looking Noah in the eyes, the boy guessed that he saw how Levio slightly raised the corners of his mouth. ”Of course. For the victim, it would’ve been wise to turn tails long ago. But lucky for me, we’re not in a detective story, right? Otherwise, this could very well be the part where the perpetrator disposes of the corpse by feeding it to pigs, right?” Well, this would confirm Noah’s hunch. Just when the boy wished to respond, his lips were sealed again by a kiss, while Levio’s hands now moved downwards. ”Of course, I could’ve taught you how to ride in one of the many back alleys in town. But I usually enjoy some of the privacy my home has to offer. We don’t want to disturb some citizens with all the screaming now, don’t we?” Just the right words to assure somebody that everything would end well, right?

A few more minutes passed and they finally arrived at their destination. Levio’s home was remote- whatever would happen behind closed doors, nobody would witness it anytime soon. The minute that Noah set foot into the man’s house, Levio lunged at the boy. Before Noah had any chance to properly take in the interior, the predator was already all over his prey.

Noah fell on the bed sheets, while his chest quickly moved up and down, trying his best to catch his breath. Simultaneously, droplets moved over his body, doing their best to cool the boy down. The bed was bigger than any piece of furniture he had slept in so far. Shortly after, another body, Levio’s, collapsed next to him, similarly out of breath. Noah turned around to lay on his back, trying his best to inspect his acquaintance. Looking sidewards, Noah saw how the man next to him turned to lay on one of his sides, resting his head on one of his palms. With his other hand, he was soon tracing over Noah’s chest.

"Looks like you are in better shape than I thought you would be, old man." Noah now had a better look at the man next to him. Now, he was sure that Levio was quite a few years older than he was- enough for some to question the morality of the intercourse.

”Don’t you worry, little robin. I might be older, but you still have much to learn.” As if to undermine his words, the man tried to leap forwards, lunging at Noah. The redhead saw this attack coming, trying to grab Levio’s hands as a response. In the ensuing struggle for the upper hand, Noah was slowly but surely winning. With the man’s wrists finally in his hands, the boy emerged victorious, now looking down on the man. "So, what exactly do I have to learn?", he tried to mock his vis-à-vis.

However, even though Levio was pinned down, he still looked as if he was the one still in control of the whole situation. In an attempt to conceal the increasing doubt emerging within the redhead, he quickly moved forward, putting a kiss on his partner’s lips before another laughter slipped his lips, as Levio’s impressive mane tickled the boy. "You and your mane, old man."

”But isn’t that exactly why you found me so interesting, little robin?” Suddenly, in a moment of surprise, Levio moved forward and freed himself, placing his arms behind Noah’s back, and lifted the boy shortly before he placed him down again. Now the revolutionary had an idea why Levio still appeared to be so confident. Or was all the alcohol just dulling his reflexes? A kiss on Noah’s forehead later, Levio left the bed and walked to a sideboard. ”Though there appear to be other assets you seem to enjoy.” The redhead blushed. With his back turned to Noah, the older man probably knew exactly what the other would be doing right now. Not that it would be hard to guess. ”Or just my boldness, right?”

However, while Levio walked back to the bed, Noah just realised how quietly Bluebeard could move- as if he were a predator on the hunt, cautious not to startle his prey. Upon arrival, he handed Noah an expensive-looking glass. ”Here, drink. I don’t want you to get dehydrated.” When Noah now looked at the man, he suddenly did not dare to refuse. Was this how the mouse felt when the cat approached?

Noah hesitantly accepted the delicate glass and took a big gulp. "Thanks. Always my well-being in mind." Looking at the bottles, Noah tried to gain some hint to identify whatever drink he was given, but the sheer number of different bottles made this all the more difficult. While he could taste some added juice as the main ingredient, naming more would be impossible. The fruity liquid covered whatever else was added to the mix.

”Of course, little robin. I’m not done with you yet.” Without further ado, Levio joined Noah in the bed again. With new liquid courage, Noah felt lighter and less restrained than he had in a long while.

---

When Noah woke up the next morning, he could not tell how long he had been sleeping- for this, he still needed some time to wake up. As soon as he managed to open his eyes, he could see how only a few rays of light slowly illuminated the chamber he was in. So, he probably did not sleep too long. However, of one thing he was already certain: his body was heavy and his head was buzzing. Which just made him all the more irritated. If his body needed the rest, apparently, why was he already awake?

Noah tossed and turned for a few more minutes, but soon realized that he could not find any more rest. He tried to recollect some of the details of yesterday’s intercourse, but his memories were surprisingly… foggy. Had he drunk so much? The redhead could not properly remember, but if his hangover was any indication, then he properly did.

Noah rose, a hand supporting his head. As soon as he felt comfortable keeping his balance, he turned to the first order of business: finding his clothes. After yesterday, he had paid no attention to where he put them. To his surprise, though, finding them was rather easy. Instead of lying everywhere and nowhere, everything he wore was now neatly folded on a chair. Naturally, this sped up Noah’s plan to dress, but he had yet to decide if he found this sweet or creepy.

With his mind still a bit foggy, Noah now moved to one of the windows and looked outside. It was just as he remembered: he was on the second floor. Not that he remembered using any stairs during the night, but maybe the memories would return when he was properly awake. Similarly, he did not exactly question what he was seeing through the windows. Levio’s front yard was not what he found suspicious- an orderly lawn, a small well surrounded by beautiful flowers, a few bushes framing the plot, and a few statues Noah could not fully make out. What he did find unusual, though, were the bars the boy had to look through.

For now, he decided that there was one thing which might help him to wake up: coffee. With his next destination in mind, Noah left the bedroom and moved downstairs. There, it did not take long until Noah was already greeted. ”Good Morning, little robin.” Levio sneaked up on Noah, a cup of coffee in hand. ”I hope you slept well. Here is something I prepared for you- I hope you like your coffee sweet.”

Noah thanked the man, took a careful sip, and immediately had to mask his apparent discomfort. The black liquid was not just sweet, if the redhead had to describe it, he would label it as sugar moisturised with coffee. Well, at least as somebody who usually drank his coffee black, he would exaggerate like this. "It looks like you like your stuff sweet." While Noah was mostly referencing the drink he was given last night, similarly sweet as the coffee if not outright sweeter, the smirk he saw on Levio’s face made him realize the double meaning.

”If you want to take a shower, the bath is on the second floor, next to the bedroom. I’ll have some business to attend to in the city. If you’re up for another round, wait for me. I’m sure you’ll find my atelier interesting.” Noah was taken by surprise and just managed to say a little "I’ll think about it". While he could not deny the fun he had last night, his instincts started to tell him how something seemed to be off. Though he could not pinpoint what exactly, he decided that he could at the very least take a shower.

As Noah placed the cup of coffee on the side to maybe finish it later, Levio left his home. Soon after, the redhead was in the bathroom and enjoyed how the water washed away his leftover tiredness. It would be an exaggeration to say he felt fit after just a shower, but additionally drinking some water helped him to think more clearly. "Now, what to do?", Noah asked the boy he saw in the mirror.

He would be lying if he said he was not intrigued by Levio, but without exactly knowing why he increasingly felt some discomfort around here. Especially as he now started to sober up. "Fresh air. I’m sure taking a good old deep breath in the morning rays is exactly what I need now." With that, he left the bath and walked to the front door. Levio’s art would be something he could still check out later if he still wanted.

A few quick steps later, he reached his goal, grabbed the door handle and imagined already how the morning air would caress his face, just to realize that the door was not moving. "You’re freakin’ kidding me!" With that, he just got a whole new idea of what his one-night stand meant with ‘catching robins’.

Noah tried again, pushed the handle down, and repeated this little movement over and over again, with each push downwards raising his heartbeat. But the result was not changing: the door did not move. "Okay, time to calm down.", the boy said to himself as he realised how fast his heart was beating. Whatever Levio had planned, Noah had yet to be defeated. He was caged, yes, his flight instinct kicked in, true, but in the end, he was given the chance to prepare, to find an escape.

And preparing was what the boy wished to do, even if it was solely to keep his mind busy. Noah knocked on the door to test how sturdy it would be. "Nothing I could easily destroy.", he stated matter-of-factly. Intuitively, his hand moved to where Kanshou’s handle was supposed to be, only to realise that his sword was missing. Immediately, he remembered how he had left his weapon at home- something he regretted right about now, though it had made perfect sense yesterday.

Now, Noah moved away from the door and decided to look for another way out or, at the very least, some more information. As a first order of business, the redhead moved around, looking at the other windows. After his little experience in the bedroom earlier this morning, the next realisation he got came to him as no surprise. Each window Noah tried to look through presented him with the same sight: bars. If it was not already the case, he now completely felt like a bird in a cage.

As a second order of business, Noah decided to look for something he could use as a weapon. As the redhead looked through the living room, he quickly concluded that he would not find anything suitable around here. He found books and while these could be used to smack somebody, they were not exactly the type of weapon he would feel confident with. However, while browsing through the bookcases, Noah did manage to find something of interest: a small collection of newspaper articles. To be more precise, articles detailing the disappearance of boys and young men roughly of Noah’s age. For the next few minutes, he read through those little reports, quickly realising that they all had a few characteristics in common, besides their age: similar physical build, mostly from around here, everyone seemed to have lost the support of their family, and strikingly above all, they all seemed to be “exploring who they truly were”. For Noah, this just sounded awfully like a euphemism to say queer. And it would not be exactly unheard of that youngsters like these were easy pickings for crime.

In particular, one article stood out, as it was the only one that featured an image and based on the date, it was also the oldest one. The depicted boy somewhat resembled Noah, a detail which did not bode well in the redhead’s mind. At the very least, he slowly understood how Levio might not be the person Noah thought he would be, but reading newspaper articles would not help him immediately. It would only confirm his doubts that something was indeed wrong. He still needed to find something to defend himself with- while he was sure that he still had a trick up his sleeve, a weapon in his hands would at the very least give him a boost to his confidence.

"The kitchen. That’s where knives are!" Noah talked to himself, in an attempt to regain some of his confidence. While a kitchen knife would not be the first weapon of his choosing, it would at the very least help him to feel a tad bit safer. The redhead hastily looked through the drawers, only to find one thing. Or rather, the lack of one: knives were missing. While he could easily cook himself some porridge and eat it using one of the many spoons, cutting stuff was a whole other story. Similarly, frying something would also be difficult. Either Levio followed some weird alimentary philosophy Noah never heard of or he was trying to hide something.

Before leaving the kitchen, the boy decided to look inside the different shelves. For a change, nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe a bit too much sugar for the redhead’s taste, but after how sweet his coffee had been, was this such a shocker? If anything would be out of the ordinary it was the bottle of brown glass standing beside the other spices which contained some liquid Noah could not identify and dared not to test.

"That’s not helping me whatsoever." said Noah to himself as he left the kitchen behind. His attempt to find a weapon to feel more confident may have failed, but given that his mind and heart were no longer raising, he still felt at ease with the situation. Busting his head in the sand was no solution; as such, the only solution the redhead saw was moving forward. After visiting most of the chambers, there was only one room left to find either answers or an exit: Levio’s atelier.

However, at first glance, this was easier said than done. In all the searching he had done so far, the boy had yet to consciously walk past the artist’s workplace. Only when the redhead took another look around the living room did he recognise the presence of a curtain. Deciding that this would be the only way forward, Noah peeked behind it and indeed found another part of Levio’s house. However, for a change, the staircase in front of him now led downstairs instead of upstairs. "Aren’t ateliers supposed to be light-flooded?"

The deeper the revolutionary walked down the stairs, the darker his surroundings got. Every step Noah took resulted in darkness casting out light until he was also swallowed whole, only managing to feel somewhat secure as his hands traced along the wall, suggesting to him that he was still on track. Just when he thought that the staircase would never end he finally reached the bottom of it.

His heart was beating again while he waited for his eyes to adapt to the darkness. Before he managed to do so, though, another of his senses started to kick in. Right now, Noah walked past a short floor, but with each step he took, an increasingly intense smell of metal tingled his nose. Whatever produced this smell made Noah wary to continue, warned him of danger. At the end of the floor, Noah now stood in front of a new room but did not immediately enter. Before pushing forward, he tried to find some light.

After the redhead cautiously felt the wall in hopes of finding a light switch,  he indeed found one after a while and pushed it- a decision he regretted as soon as he saw what awaited him behind the light.

The glow mercilessly blinded Noah until he adapted to the new source of light, which made him only smell the scent of metal all the more intensely. When he eventually looked around, he quickly made another acquaintance with his meagre breakfast. The metallic smell was one thing, but the different pieces of ‘art’ Noah saw were another.

The redhead needed a moment to process what he saw, but to say they were hideous was an understatement. Overall, he saw a mixture of paintings and sculptures. While the former looked relatively normal at first glance, they also contained a lot of red and seemed to be the source of the metallic scent which greeted him a while ago. The latter seemed to contain bones- if he was not mistaken, human bones to be precise. "Where the hell am I?"

Noah looked around and tried to understand the ‘art’ he was presented. Sculptures made with bones and more traditional materials he was too illiterate to understand and, frankly, did not wish to. However, the paintings were simpler in that regard, as they could be summarised as a ‘symphony of suffering’. Wherever he looked, he saw abstract youngsters, mostly boys his age, sometimes more androgynous, who all looked to suffer. Screaming people, red tears, suffering, and rivers of, here literally, blood were just a few examples of the atrocities he saw.

Noah walked around, looking at the exhibits, simultaneously feeling repelled and fascinated. He wished to tear these products down, but somehow was unable to act, being under its spell. "Who buys this stuff?" Noah now asked himself as he stood in front of a painting which reminded him of something- or someone? The other boy from the newspaper article, perhaps?

”Oh, little robin, you’d be surprised who my most generous patrons are.” Caught like a small child in the act of doing what it was explicitly told not to do, Noah abruptly turned around when he heard the voice of the older man. In a slight fit of panic the redhead looked around, trying to find an alternative route of escape, but the only way in or out the boy could find in a rush was blocked: Levio blocked the door by casually leaning against its frame. As seemed to be the case with his confidence so far, Levio still appeared to be in charge.
”It's been a while since somebody entered here.” To undermine his words, Levio stepped into the room, guesteruing around to fill the room, but still blocking the door. ”Well, consciously, that is. Usually I have to carry them down here as soon as they are unconscious. Which in return makes my craft easier.” When he heard these words, a shudder ran down Noah's spine. This might explain the sugar in the coffee- an attempt to hide a sedative?

Now, slowly walking towards Noah, the older man put on a smile. ”Though I have to admit, when my muses are fully awake is when I prefer to work. Their authentic agony when I gradually catch their blood paired with the slow realisation of desperation is truly the best source of inspiration.” Levio's gaze hardened, watching Noah's every move. For a moment, the boy stepped back, intuitively trying to increase the distance to his hunter. In the end, the mouse, too, did not voluntarily walk into the cat's mouth when trapped. But a wall and being framed between two seemingly screaming paintings quickly made it clear that escape was no option. Well, not like this.

”What a lovely scenery, little robin. Just stay still and I promise it won't hurt much.” In a swift motion, Levio pulled a knife out of one of his pockets, aimed, and threw it. Noah’s reflexes kicked in who just barely managed to dodge the attack. "The words of a mass murderer are trustworthy because…?" He knew that provoking a murderer was anything but wise, but was the older man a man of his word? A cat loved to play with its prey, too, so why should a predator in human shape be any different?

Noah moved around, listened to his instincts and managed to dodge the next few flying knives. The revolutionary tried to move close to the different ‘art’ pieces in hopes Levio would hesitate to strike- regardless of success or not, the boy stayed unharmed for now. A fact he wished to keep this way. The artist, meanwhile, seemed to enjoy the little stunt. ”Splendid, little robin! You'll truly end up as a fascinating sculpture. I can see it already!” Another knife cut through the air, another knife missed its target just to land next to a painting. How long would Noah still be lucky?

As much as Levio seemed to enjoy this little hunt, the same was definitely not true for Noah. In contrast, his heart was working as much as it could while the boy tried to keep his cool facade alive. "Tell me, what have you done with all the leftovers?" It sickened him to use this word, but was there an alternative? A dead body left more behind than just blood and bones after all life left the corpse. And while he was curious to get an answer, he mostly wished to distract the hunter so that he had an easier time to escape. "I mean, what do you have to fear if you tell your art what will happen to it?"

He suppressed his urge to vomit yet again, but Levio seemed… pleased? Attacks happened less frequently and a joyful sparkle in his eyes made him look suddenly charming. He most likely was not used to his prey showing any interest in what would happen to them. Frankly, this was a sensation Noah would share. He just did not feel like showing signs of weakness or begging for his life. The battle was far from over. Noah just needed a chance to strike.

”Pigs.” Noah needed some time to understand what the man was trying to say, but when it clicked, he had to suppress the urge to reunite with the remainder of his breakfast. ”My neighbour is a farmer who has pigs. I'm allowed to feed them my leftovers and in return I get some products in return. Win win, right?” Noah refused to answer lest he risk blowing his cover. Instead, he tried to close as much of the distance to Levio as he could. ”But where were we, little robin? Right, the best part!” Without another sign of hesitation did Levio leap forward, a knife used by butchers in hand. If Noah had any doubts left they were now gone. Levio was willing to murder.

Be it his combat training, the adrenaline rushing through his veins, or plain luck, but all of Levio's strikes failed to connect. Noah may have failed to start a counterattack, but at the very least, he managed to baulk his foe's plans- unless those plans contained playing with his prey. Eventually, the redhead found an opening in Levio's offense which he used, tackled the man, and utilised the short pause to run for it.

”Where do you think you're going, little robin?” Noah heard the words while he quickly climbed the staircase, trying to increase the distance to his hunter as fast as possible. Was there a hint of insecurity? Without knowing what the artist was capable of, the redhead was sure that he needed a moment of surprise to win. Noah was confident in his trump card, but the house would not be the ideal place to use it- transforming would hinder his movements far too much.

When Noah reached the front door, a heavy sigh left his lips as he saw that the door now moved the way it should. Without wasting another second, the redhead stepped outside, enjoying how the sun's rays caressed his skin. What would he give to finally relax, but a murderer on his heels had other plans. To the boy's surprise, Levio seemed to quickly close the gap. Was he really just a (mass murdering) artist? Something still felt odd, though Noah could not point to what this might be. ”You could have met an easy end, little robin.”

Another knife flew through the air, another projectile missed its target. Before the next attack could be started, Noah hid behind a tree, enjoying the few heartbeats of peace. "What makes you think I'm the one to end up hurt?" Provoking the hunter might not be the smartest idea, but the redhead hoped to lure Levio into letting his guard down for a second, or finding an opening he could exploit. Immediately, Noah only heard laughter. The older man was nearby.

”It has been a while since somebody struggled so much, yet still appearing confident. How… refreshing.” This was close enough. If Noah would try to keep on running, he was convinced that the next knife would find his target. "Refreshing indeed, right? Just be careful- a cornered robin is still a cornered animal. It could prick." The redhead did not hear any response, but he sensed the steady breathing of Levio. Now was the time to act.

Noah’s body changed, out of Levio’s sight, and soon the boy had changed into his hybrid form. He grew taller and quickly gained the weapons of a falcon. Now, the robin's pricking would indeed hurt. He just hoped Levio was still left in the dark. ”Very well then, little robin. Show me what you're made of!” When Levio started talking, he was on the opposite side of the tree. Near the end of his speech, he was already moving. It was now or never.

Noah intercepted Levio's movements, meeting him halfway through. Before they collided, Noah thought to see a hint of surprise in the older man's eyes, especially as the redhead was now the one with the more imposing physique. Before the bearded man could act were the talons already tearing through his flesh. Soon, a red throat was all that was left, with Noah’s arms gaining a similar colour as he struck again and again.

As Noah watched how the man was drowning, he looked down on him, undoing his transformation. "Time to atone for your sins, little robin." Noah spat the last few words, though he did not manage to fully mimic the artist’s tone. Levio continued in his struggle for a while longer, but eventually he did drown in his own blood. However, the boy's work was not yet done. Would law enforcement trust the redhead’s words? Especially if he wished to keep his powers a secret? Should he try to dispose of the body? As luck would have it, Levio gave him an idea: the pigs. But could Noah defile a freshly deceased, even after everything he wished to do to himself?

Still lost in his thoughts, he now looked down on his hands until it hit him. The red colour was not simply paint. It was the essence of life of another human being, the substance that kept him functioning. Now, Noah ended the life of another living being. He felt sick. Calming his mind barely worked- self-defence only went so far in rationalising his actions. He felt so sick that the remainder of his little breakfast now escaped his belly once again.

But the decision what Noah should do was quickly taken out of his hands. [npc=misc]”Levio, can I talk to-”[/npc] A young woman arrived, but before she could finish her sentence, she screamed at the red haired boy with his bloodstained hands and the corpse in front of his feet. Before he could formulate a response his instincts kicked in and the boy started to run away. He doubted that anything he had to say would be believed to begin with. “It's not what it looks like” barely worked as a defence to begin with.

Kneeing in front of a river he now scrubbed his hands to get rid of the blood but they stayed red. The blood might be gone, at least superficially, but the frantic cleaning and cold water paid their tribute. At the very least, he could slowly think clearly. He had to get away. For now, his home might be a good idea to find shelter. His first mission as a revolutionary should soon start anyways- maybe he could leave the island a bit earlier than scheduled? At the very least, this was better than waiting for law enforcement to catch him. And it would help him to avoid yet another dangerous artist- hopefully.