Original Sin

Prelude: Blood (Chapter 1)

Ash-black and blood-red marks scratch away from his eyes as he sits, surveying the night. A hunter, in an urban environment.
They fear.
"As they should. The two of us are unstoppable now."
Anger grins, coiled at the back of his conscience.
How far we have come.
It is Halloween this night. The markings on his face could be dismissed as paint. But no amount of water can wash them off. They simply appear and disappear as he wishes. For the most part, they cling like scars.
"I didn't think it was possible for us to ever work like this."
This is not work.
"Then what is it?"
Anger laughs, it's coarse, deep voice echoing through his skull.
Entertainment.
Alex can't help but snort.
"I guess you're right."
Someone screams in the alley below him. The two shift, separate minds in the same body. His eyesight grows clearer, blacks and greys in the moonlight becoming more distinct.
"Shall we?"
With a snarl, Anger has them jump. The air rushes past, snatching at his hair. Then they land on the cold, hard concrete.
It's three men, one with a knife, cornering a single blonde lady. None of them expected to be interrupted; understandably, she looks more relieved than the others.
Alex grins. His teeth gleam white in the shadows.
"Greetings."
The man with the knife lowers his arm, clearly unsure of how to deal with this sudden arrival.
"Who are you?"
"That doesn't matter."
"You must be pretty brave to drop in like that."
"You must be pretty stupid to not be on your knees," Alex replies. Anger laughs.
"What? You want some too?" The man with the knife steps forwards, his allies close behind him, and their prey standing, transfixed by this strange happening, against the wall.
Alex grins wider. He clenches and unclenches his fists.
"Are you angry?"
"You bet I am!"
The man grabs for Alex's collar; with a quick swipe he knocks his hand away, and grabs the attacker by his.
Anger trickles down his spine, infiltrating every nerve and muscle.
"Me too."
What happens next is inevitable.
It takes one strike with claws like iron to slash the man's throat. His two friends falter, unsure of what is happening; he pulls down the one on the left and rips his arm clean off, throwing it at the remaining target, and following up with a punch to the gut that pulls out his internal organs.
Three dead in 30 seconds.
The woman collapses down and cries out in fear, her hopes drowned in salty sickness.
Anger looks at her, gore streaming from it's arms. Familiar red smoke rises in wisps from its exposed skin, and the only colour in its eyes comes from the ash black and blood red markings around them.
"Please," she whispers, "take the bag. Take everything, just leave me alone."
"Anger," Alex warns.
Anger snarls. With a roll of its neck, Alex is allowed back into control. He stands up straight, using one of the thug's coats to wipe his hands clean, and walks towards the woman, who cowers as he approaches.
"You want to get out of here alive?"
She nods mutely.
"Then you do exactly what I tell you. Take your bag" - he thrusts it into her chest - "and leave. Don't mention what you happened here. And pray to God that we never meet again."
With that, Alex sheathes his hands in the pockets of his long coat, and walks out into the night. Anyone who sees him simply thinks the marks on his face are for his costume.
They never stop to consider that a real monster walks among them.