Chapter Text
It was a cold rainy night in York New City. The fourth gruesome murder this month was headline news. A serial killer had descended upon the city, terrorizing its people. Men, women and children alike were too afraid to leave their homes at night. Any night it rained, a body was found, missing limbs with a single black rose stuffed into the mouth. The tale-tell sign of the Rose Killer.
There was but one man in all of York New who was unafraid. Feitan Porter the local librarian. Feitan was a small man, pale and quiet in nature. His days consisted of running his quaint library, dusting shelves, and researching the Rose Killer. Feitan was fascinating by all things macabre in nature. It was his deep dark secret, an unhealthy obsession.
The man read hundreds of books about death, murder, and torture over the years since he opened his library. His life was boring him, it wasn’t until rumors of a serial killer bloomed that he found real excitement in his life. He wanted to find this murderer, he wanted to see what made you tick. Why could you do the things he didn’t have the guts to?
Tonight, was his lucky night.
Every time it rained Feitan scoured the city, looking for any sign of ill intent. He even wondered if one day he’d end up a victim seeing how empty the streets have become.
He’d wander the city for hours hoping to find someone, anyone fleeing the scene of a fresh kill. What he would do when he actually found you, he had no idea. He’d handle that when he got there.
Just as Feitan’s frustrations climaxed he was shoved into the ground as a shifty looking stranger darted around the corner. Feitan picked himself off of the wet concrete and grumbled to himself.
“No manners.” He spit, as he watched the stranger disappear around another corner. He sighed heavily, place his bandana back comfortably over his mouth and turning the corner where this person just ran from. His grey eyes blew wide at the sight before him.
A warm corpse, no limbs, and a beautiful black rose stuck in their mouth. His pulse throbbed loudly in his head; his fingers trembled around the handle of his umbrella. His breath came fast and his stomach lurched as he doubled over emptying his stomach. The shock was getting to him but he found this so very poetic.
Quickly, he sprinted around the corner in your direction. Where did you go!? He has to find you! He needs more! But you were nowhere in sight. He only remembered tiny details about you, the color of your hair, your coat, and the curve of your lips.
Sighing in defeat Feitan swiftly fled the scene, making sure no one was near to see. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, finally, he was so close. He’d found you, the Rose Killer. All he had to do now, was to find you again, he won’t allow you to slip from his grasp a second time.
The next few days were quiet and partly cloudy. No rain. Though a tinge of pride bubbled in Feitan’s gut when he read the newspaper headlining a fifth murder. The fear others felt just hearing your alias. He couldn’t hide the smirk on his face when he read the details of the scene.
“You’re scaring your customers.” An unfamiliar voice called from across from him.
Feitan quickly tightened his lips and looked up to the stranger before him, recognizing them instantly. He knew that hair, you wore the same overcoat as the last time he saw you. Now you wore a medical mask to conceal your face, he found it mysterious.
“S-scare who?” He stuttered, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. You narrowed your eyes at the sight, before stepping out of his view to show two school girls frowning at Feitan.
“You’re smiling mighty hard at the paper, sir.” You commented, your voice sounding cold yet there was a hint of interest there. Feitan quickly slid the paper into a drawer behind the front counter and averted his eyes awkwardly from the two girls. You watched as they frantically left the library to study elsewhere.
Then your eyes slid back over to the small librarian, he was watching you intently, it was almost unsettling how hard he was staring at you. You cocked your brow at him; you knew he recognized you, but he didn’t seem afraid, more enthralled by it all to be exact.
Without another word, you took your leave from the library, no use staying another second.
“No books?” He called after you, hoping to see more of you. Hoping you’d stay.
“No...” You said without hesitation and you set off never looking back.
But that wouldn’t be the last time you saw Feitan. No, over the following weeks you continued your killing each rainy day. And each time, Feitan wasn’t far behind. He’d watch you lure your prey into an alley, shaking with anticipation as you pulled out your choice of weapon.
Your cuts were neat and orderly, never did a drop of blood stain your skin. It was a beautiful sight to witness for Feitan. You were in your element; it was bewitching and captivating.
Feitan finally built up the courage to speak to you again after your eleventh kill, what a rainy city York New was. He followed silently behind you, not too close, not too far. If you felt his presence there, he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t until he noticed the two of you were straying further and further away from the city that he started to rethink his plan.
And in that moment of self-doubt, he lost you. You vanished into thin air it seemed, and anxiety began to prickle at the man’s pale skin. He should turn back? Try another day, right? Something, be it foresight or fear, was screaming at Feitan not to follow any further and just head home. He’d surely die if he saw you again today.
Turning around to flee he was met with a sharp sting on his Adam’s apple, the warmth of blood trickling down his neck. A knife was pressed to his throat, and it was being wielded by you. Your presence overwhelming, pure bloodlust, a crazed deranged look in your eyes. Feitan quivered nervously, swallowing thickly as you loomed over him whispering sinisterly.
“Some nerve you’ve got stalking a serial killer.”