Bartoli raised his head from his prey, lips glistening darkly. His skin prickled and he sighed. Dawn was fast approaching. Damnit. He hated dawn.He looked down at the prostitute beneath him. Her skin was white, already growing cold, and damp with the rain that fell from the sky. He usually didn't kill, but this girl had no real reason to live. No more than thirteen, she was basically forced into prostitution. It was either fuck or die.
Bartoli chuckled darkly and took out his knife. The blade shone erotically against the grey sky, distracting him for a moment with its icy glitter. He stared at it, turning it over in his hands. It was crafted from the finest of silver, the handle made of ivory. It had the most amazing design on it. The handle was carved in the shape of a snake wrapping itself tightly around an old, dead tree. Bartoli had had it ever since his father had died.
He chuckled again. That is, when he killed his father.
He drew the knife deeply across her throat, hiding the puncture wounds his fangs had made. He licked the remaining blood from his lips and incisors. It was always a favorite thing of Bartoli's...to slice open a victim's flesh. One of his favorite pastimes was to capture a human and torture, torture, torture them until they begged for mercy. Of course, he never answered their cries of pain and pleas for death. He kept them alive until he tired of them. Usually then he would leave them in the woods to die an even more painful death than he could give them. The flies and gnats would feast on his open, raw flesh and exposed organs. The scent of blood would likely draw the animals and he would be torn apart brutally by them.
Bartoli snickered and kicked at the prostitute's dead body. What a waste. He would have liked to torture this one.
But no...he just wanted to feed this night.
As he cleaned off and sheathed his knife, he heard the crinkle of parchment in his cloak's pocket. He reached inside and retrieved it. Ahh...the letter he had recieved this morning.
Amarta Kariem is dead. She was killed yesterday in her home. Staked by silver. You may come to retrieve her belongings or you can leave them to us to use.
King Romulus III
Ah. So his sister was dead?
Even when no one was around, Bartoli was always calm on the outside. On the inside he was screaming and boiling with loss and rage. "Well. These things happen..."
Bartoli turned and slammed the knife into the girl's chest.