Fox Hunt [Open]

Conway Street was, in a word, posh. The buildings all sat in neat, perfectly cubic rows, one never a floor taller or shorter than another. The paint jobs were uniformly neat, each 3 story building a soothing cream white with mahogany accents; even the brown shutters in the windows were the same. The only distinction between them were the mailboxes, the different cars in their respective drives, certain flags hanging limp by the doors, or the occasional children's toys left forgotten for the night on the lawn.

Down this particular street on this particular evening, everything was still. Not the kind of still you would expect late at night, the kind of still that came from fear. It sank into your skin, chilled your bones, smelled sour, and made you sweat. You see, this street was part of a hunting ground, and all the people that lived on it were clueless.

Five murders had happened in five days on this street, and each victim had the same post-op report. Multiple cuts and stab wounds, cause of death: exsanguination, large amounts of flesh missing, body covered in bite marks. The collective thought was 'cannibal', but no one wanted to be the first to suggest it, not in such a high-class place. A human eating another human? Unthinkable, and not just once, but five times, perhaps countless more in other locations. What those innocent people didn't know was that it was in fact a cannibal, and while they slept in their beds, windows latched and doors locked, he walked among them.

- - -

Jericho tried his very best to regulate his breathing. It came in raspy drags, almost like an asthma attack as he tip-toed through the plush living room. Like any gentleman, he had removed his shoes at the door so as not to leave footprints, his stocking feet making no sound against the carpet. His stomach gurgled happily, now full of his favorite meal.

The victims in question, a young married couple, lay in their bed, bodies overlapping playfully as they both slipped away from this mortal coil. Somewhere upstairs, a baby let out a soft whimper in the unmoving night air, and the assailant paused. He didn't remember seeing them with a child. As much as Jericho loved children ( they tasted delicious), he felt a pang of guilt for taking its parents away. The pang was quickly replaced with awe as his eyes found the china cabinet. He softly whistled in astonishment. ''Swank...'' he mumbled. The baby whined again, and Jericho was jerked back into reality. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration, nothing was more annoying than a crying baby.

''Don't do it.'' he warned softly, turning in the general direction of the distress. His fists clenched, skin bleaching from being pulled taut over his knuckles. As if the child knew of the impending danger, it fell silent. ''Good boy.'' Just as quietly as he had stepped inside, he slipped his shoes on and made his way back outside, shutting the door with a gentle click behind him. To his displeasure, across the street, someone quickly drew a pair of curtains.

Someone had seen him.

Jericho sighed, a tense and heated sigh that barely reflected the rage that began to roil within him. He hated loose ends, and as he stormed across the street, gut growling in protest about the abundance of movement after such a large feast, he hoped only one person lay behind the door he was about to break into.

The possible cannibal was not the only one who was bringing about grisly murders. For the past few weeks, there were bloody corpses of women hacked to pieces left in many different areas which were hacked apart by some type of triple bladed weapon. There was a pattern in which all of them were women and they were all hacked to pieces in the same manner with the same exact weapon. The women had nothing to do with each other on the posh street and yet they were all brutally murdered. There were talks of some kind serial killer with some odd obsession with women, most likely a male, being the one to commit the murders.

The person who had seen Jericho was in fact, a woman left all by herself. This woman was so distracted at the sight of Jericho murdering the married couple that she did not notice someone intruding into her home. This someone was a small boy around 7 years of age with short blue hair and green eyes that had black pupils in the slitted fashion of the snake. He wore a white kimono with blue outline and blue combat boots that were customized to fit his small feet. The boy of about 4'0" high clutched a triple-bladed scythe who's blades were blood red and made from titanium. The boy grinned to himself as he sneaked up on the woman and swung the scythe will his full strength into her back, cleanly slicing through her. However, he didn't stop there as he proceeded to hack her body to bloody pieces, blood flying everywhere but the blood sliding off his kimono and boots since he had them made out of a special water-proof material and blood was a type of liquid after all. He grinned down at the hacked body and spat on the corpse as he licked the blood off of his triple-bladed scythe. "Goodbye you fucking whore. Another selfish bitch like my mother burns in hell for eternity so she doesn't hurt anyone else with her selfish, spineless fucking ways" the boy said in a raspy voice that gave away he was older then he appeared.

With a deceiving clarity, the young man picked open the lock on the front door, expertly and nearly silently letting himself. The only thing that truly gave him away was a sigh. ''Alright, who was peeping?'' he said, a slight giggle in his voice. This was his favorite part, after all. The fear in their eyes, the way their breath shook and trembled, the rambling and shivering and pleading was almost too much pleasure for one psycho to bear, and needless to say, he felt incredibly deflated when he walked in on the grisly scene. ''Tha shit...?''

Jericho scanned the woman's cadaver, or what he could see anyway, the majority of it was in pieces and awash with blood. He couldn't help but think of them like little hors d'oeurves in need of toothpicks and a sliver platter. It wasn't until he realized that someone aside from him and his potential snack was in the room that he looked up at the boy.

He had never liked the color blue, and as he saw an abundance of it on the youth, he grimaced. An almost irresistible urge washed over him to kill the child, but his bloated stomach bubbled softly to remind him that it would simply be wasted food. Upon eying the boys weapon, the gears finally finished turning; he had killed her, and though he didn't truly care why, he felt curious. ''So, uh... what's shakin', man?'' he said with a shrug, his posture going lax as he was soothed by the abundant iron smell in the air.

His ears twitched at the sound of footsteps and clutched his beloved scythe tightly and turned to face the intruder, wondering if he had to kill the person too. After examining the person from head-to-toe, he could immediately tell that there was something unhinged about the guy, something wild. Whatever it was, he could tell that the person was most likely not gonna report what he sees. Ryuuga may be considered dumb as shit, what with his below-average intelligence but he could see the difference between a squealer and a secret keeper. The guy asked him 'what was shaking' and the question caused him to raise a light blue eyebrow at the sheer stupidity of the question. "What's shakin'? What the fuck do you think I'm doing fuckmook? Making pancakes? I just got through murdering this whore" he said with a roll of his eyes in that raspy voice of his that made him sound older then he looked.

Jericho blinked. It was all he could do, really. A toddler just called him a 'fuckmook'. He didn't even know what that meant. His mind rolled around, not sure if he should be angry or extremely entertained.

''Well yeah, I can see that.'' he said, gesturing to the leaking chunks that used to make up a person. ''I was askin' what's going on with you aside from the ahh... post-slaughter jitters.'' His neck rolled involuntarily, eyes wide and white as his pupils tightened into black pinpricks surrounded by bloodshot sclera. With a shake of his head, he exhaled; boy was it difficult to not fall to his knees and eat. ''Dont wanna puke...'' he muttered, staring down at the red mess that politely washed along the soles of his feet. ''Hi.'' he said gently to the woman's detached eyeball.

Reality summoned him back, and with a snap his stone-faced attention was fixated on the boy, a smile pulling all the way up to his ears. ''You like killing people, don't you?'' he purred.

He raised an eyebrow at the casual way the man addressed the brutal murder sight of some random woman, which set off alarms in his head that he perhaps met another killer. Suddenly, he felt the urge to be a little more friendly. After all, murderers have to learn to trust other murderers because if they didn't, who could they trust other then themselves? The obvious answer to such an easy question was no one. He blinked in surprise as the man said hi to the woman's detached eyeball and wondered if this man was just a bit more insane then he was. When he was asked the question on if he liked killing people, he nodded his head eagerly. "Oh yeah, killing women is awesome. After all, whores like them are undeserving of life. All they are good for is making babies and even that's not all that useful since they will just kill the damn thing or abandon the thing for their own selfish purposes. I only kill men if they get in my fucking way" he said with a raspy chuckle.

With an ease that might have unnerved someone of higher standings, Jericho knelt down and gingerly retrieved a piece of the woman, popping it into his mouth like a treat before chewing it slowly. For a moment, he mulled over the flavor, eyes closed as he let the taste of her fill his senses. As he rose, he swallowed.

''Women taste so damn good...'' he said softly, giving another swallow to get down the uncooked meat. ''Men too, and kids.'' he added, sucking the blood from his fingers. Though he was much older than the boy, he couldn't help but feel less professional. Here he stood, in civilian clothing spattered with red, sleeves rolled in a mockery of labor, his goggles smeared with the remains of his previous meal. Yet this child stood with a scythe, his outfit impeccable. Upon reflection, he didn't care about his appearance. He still got laid occasionally, and food never ran low, what did he need a fancy robe for? Nothing, that's what. He felt the minute bite he had just taken add to the already full gut he had accrued tonight, and with a rumble, he belched.

''Yeah... tasty.'' Suddenly, the blue didn't bother him so much, and instead he reflected on the flavor of children. Tentatively, he took a step forward, boot squelching in the macabre vision that had been spread on the otherwise benign tile of the woman's home. This one was small enough to save for later.

Ryuuga's eyes widened comically and his jaw dropped as he watched the man eat pieces of the woman. So this guy must have been that cannibal going around taking bites out of his victims. He had a feeling this guy was a murderer but a fucking cannibal as well? He was definitely batshit insane if he liked the taste of human flesh. Sure, he liked the taste of blood but not enough where he would eat somebody. That's just nasty, at least in his opinion. He saw the man take a step towards him and he backed up a bit, swinging his scythe around as a warning in case this man sought out to eat him. He had no idea if this man really liked the taste of children but he had no doubt in his mind he himself would seem like a delicious snack but he had no intention of being this man's snack. "Keep yourself out of range of my scythe. If you do like the taste of children, I ain't letting you within a certain distance of my fucking personal space" he said with narrowed eyes.

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[[ OOC: How did John and Jimmy see them, and are they in the house or outside it...? >_> ]]

[[ OOC: Alright Wally, thanks for being honest and sorry for the trouble. ]]