Her long shadow almost reached the other end of the alley. Alice was waiting on someone, a person from who she knew that he came here every night, a thing she knew from her time she just arrived in Sacramento. This would be his last night.

The moment Alice found a hourglass filled with the remains of her sister in the chest she received yesterday night, she knew she would be angry until her anger was satisfied. Bethany's time had passed. Alice just began anew.

'Who are you?' There he was, a dirty man, looking so ugly and hairy that you couldn't really tell what his age was. His shopping trolley was already in the alley.

'Let's call me your femme fatale.' Alice was surprised how strong her crying voice could sound. So to see, the homeless man shared her feeling of surprise. Though instead of sorrow his eyes reflected fear. And that fear grew stronger with every word. 'Im not in a good mood today, sorry old man.'

He took a step back and was just about to walk away when a silenced shot hit his right knee. The screams weren’t silenced. No, they would become worse. Alice was about to release all her frustration and anger. When a Duchagne did that, a lot of pain was inflicted.

'For Bethany!' Her voice was angry and the first shock wave of pain came as a surprise for the man. He stopped his screams.

'For Julien, who taught me this.' Her voice was bitter when the second excruciating illusion fulfilled him with mortal fear.

'For myself.' That sounded very sadistic. And Agony came. The streets were filled with his agony.

'And for Bacchus, the god I once used to worship. That your blood may flow as easy as his holy wine.' The man was trembling on the ground. The place was deserted. No help would come, and even then it would be too late. In the last 15 seconds Alice had exhausted her Beast, payed with her own blood. Now her recently grown Beast was hungry. She screamed and the Beast awakened. The man wouldn't live much longer. While her gun dropped on the ground the huntress jumped on her prey and wasn't discreet or friendly. The Beast didn't care about mannerisms. No, the wounds it made wouldn't heal so quickly. And the great amount of blood only encouraged the Beast.

As soon as there was nothing left to feast on it felt as if a storm subsided. A bloodied Daeva sat on her drained prey. Her mouth was open while she stared into nothingness, slowly all emotions flowed out of her. She was another step closer to finding peace.



Then after a couple of times blinking she takes her phone and dials a number. Her tone could be as if she was standing at a supermarket with unexpected much groceries. 'Nicholas, I need you to pick me up at [insert adress] Oh… and please bring some bleach and a garbage bag with you, will ya?'

BAM!!!! Nom nom nom