[u][b]London, England UK 12:58pm[/b][/u]

There he stood, on the roof of Big Ben, drenched in the falling rain and staring down at the wave of black umbrellas that poured along like a river. Xeron had always enjoyed the cool crispness of the rain, it relieved him of stress from his job. The rain dripped from his raised hood that concealed his face in void energy, that no one could recognise him; he was clearly on the job. Thou it had only been an hour since he left the Underground, the power of Shadow Walk made such distances trivial to transverse. 

The hour hand finally turned its last cog to strike One and the unmissable ringing of the bell begun, signalling that it was time for him to begin. He searched through the umbrella with his closed eyes, searching for the soul. After going through the lives of twenty or so vessels he found it: Young, male, scared… running. He opened his eyes to see a small bulk of yellow race against the tide of black, followed by two, much darker souled vessels. Soon the bulk of yellow turned into an alley in which only had one way in and out. Xeron shadow walked towards the rooftop of one of the apartments to see what the fate of this one was, but when he looked down upon the soon to be crime scene his heart sank. There two armed thugs, demanding for some repayment of some kind to a human child, from the look of him, he was no older than six or seven. - The grip around his katana tightened. Xeron, the Prince of Death knew what he was about to do was reckless. 

One of the thugs raise his weapon above his head and the boy closed his eyes waiting for his inevitable fate, but it never came, rather a small warm drop flicked onto his face. He slowly opened his eyes and felt his face, looking at this now red finger he could tell what it was – blood. But it was not his own. He looked back at the thug and there the boy looked in horror to where the thug’s arm had once been, now an oozing red mess that soaked his shirt, the arm, still wielding its weapon laid dormant in a pool of blood.

[URL=http://s306.photobucket.com/user/IyceSoul/media/bloodiedanimeboy.jpg.html][IMG]http://i306.photobucket.com/albums/nn253/IyceSoul/bloodiedanimeboy.jpg[/IMG][/URL]

“I suppose two souls make up for one.” A voice muttered besides the boy who turned in the direction of it. There, a hooded man, blade in hand which little droplets of blood slid off. “You may want to close your eyes and cover your ears.” The voice continued. 
He did.

Under his hands he heard the muffled screams and swings that were happening beyond the vail of darkness. A ruffle of his hair signalled that it was over.  

The boy slowly opened his eyes and there he stood, with his hood now down to show his truly remorseful face. He looked for the bodies yet there we none, only the now washed away remains of blood that flowed towards the alley drains.
“What’s your name?” Xeron asked, already knowing the answer, but to allow an interaction between the two.

“Wi... William.” The boy answered, still trembling in fear.

“Let’s get you somewhere warm and safe.”