[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjE1OC4zMjUzNGYuVG05aGFDQkNaV0YxYlc5dWRBLCwuMAAA/donrees-claws.regular.png[/img][/center] [Color=darkslategray][b]Time:[/b][/color] Evening [Color=darkslategray][b]Location:[/b][/color] Boardwalk [Color=darkslategray][b]Interaction with:[/b][/color] Noah had finished with his missing pet posters, his journey through the town ending along the boardwalk. Human Noah had liked this place, but now, with the clarity and heightening of his senses that vampirism brought he could not remember why. It reeked of fried foods, things covered in grease and oil, sizzling and popping as the vendors cooked them up for the swarming masses of humanity that flocked here. It was loud, bustling with the ever grating sounds of people chewing, laughing, and shouting. Too many people walked around with smiles, blissful in their lack of understanding that they were nothing but prey. They passed him without ever knowing how quickly he could snatch their lives away, and he let them keep walking. There were simply too many here for it to be a suitable hunting ground. What the boardwalk did have to offer was a very small shop with a bright neon sign that simply read ‘Psychic Readings.’ Against the window a list of services promised things like tarot and palm readings, spiritual consulting, and astrological charting. Noah didn’t know whether the shop's owner and self proclaimed psychic was truly a witch or another common charlatan but it didn’t really matter either way. Eventually connections would be drawn, he just had to keep murdering witches, anyone connected to witchcraft, and make the killings look salacious enough to attract the right attention. His work needed attention and he needed it distinguished from the sloppy work of witch hunters. No one would ever make the mistake of thinking his handiwork was done by anything as mundane as witch hunters. The thought of bloodshed put a sly grin on his face as he entered the shop, bells on the door jingling as it opened and shut behind him. Inside were a collection of crystals, decorative items, tarot decks, candles, and shelves lined with books on the occult. A black cat sat curled up next to the cash register and a board listing various services with their prices. To the right of the shop was a beaded curtain and from there a woman emerged, dressed exactly like some new aged hippie. The rest of the shop was dimly lit, with no other customers currently inside, and the few burning sticks of incense smelled of Frankincense. If she was a fake, she certainly had the ambiance down. This was his perfect oppertunity, another chance to make a bold statement, something that flyers around town just couldn’t do. “Can I help you?” The woman’s cheery voice asked. [Color=slategray]“I was hoping for a palm reading.”[/color] “You seek answers to an important question.” Her response made Noah think she was a fraud, just a vague statement that could be applied to any situation. [Color=slategray]“Indeed I do.”[/color] He said as he followed her to the room behind the beaded curtain anyway. A real witch or a fake one it didn’t really matter, he would get another meal and leave a message behind either way. The so called psychic studied his hand, making various vague statements that meant nothing to Noah and he was barely listening. He grinned slightly as she described him as unyielding, mentioning things about conflict and loss. [Color=slategray]“Anything else?”[/color] Noah asked, feigning interest but more than a bit disappointed to find that this was just an act, rather than a true witch. Then for a brief second he saw it in her eyes, that glimpse of true fear and Noah smiled widely, she knew what he was. “No, that’s all. You can go now.” She said, the act now gone, her tone now curt and afraid. As the witch moved to pull her hand away from his Noah grabbed her hand. The witches hand made a satisfying snap as he twisted it, bones popping as they broke. His other hand stifled a scream, ensuring no interruptions or opportunity for her to use spells against him. [Color=slategray]“Tell me what did you see? A glimpse at your own future? Local psychic fails to predict her own brutal murder in time?”[/color] Noah taunted, showing no signs of anything but his sadistic and predatory nature even as the witch had the nerve to try and bite him. He pulled the witch closer, his teeth sinking in and fresh blood quieting his hunger to a dull murmur. He dropped the witch to the floor, mostly exsanguinated but still just clinging to life. Not enough strength left to be a threat to him but enough that he could have time for a question. [Color=slategray]“I’m looking for one witch, one named Shay. It is far too late for you but I’m just going to keep looking, keep killing, until I find her. If you tell me where she is I can leave the rest of your kind alone, or I keep doing this, every night.”[/color] Noah said as he crouched down next to the dying witch who struggled to simply shake her head. [Color=slategray]“That is bad news for you, your death could’ve been an easy one.”[/color] A slight chuckle left him before he continued. Noah left the back room in a similar but far more rushed state than he had left the Witches Brew in. The small table which held a crystal ball now held a pair of gouged out eyes and a smile with fangs drawn in blood underneath them. Beneath that he placed three tarot cards, smudged with blood from his fingers, their faces featuring The High Priestess, Wheel of Fortune, and The Devil. He placed the now dead witch in the chair facing the door, and the card for Death inside her mouth. The cat turned and hissed at him as he walked back through the beaded curtain and Noah hissed back, his fangs on full display, and much more impressive than the cats. [Color=slategray]“You’re a little late, failed familiar.”[/color] He said as he licked blood from his fingers. [Color=slategray]“I hope you don’t plan on snacking on my project.”[/color] He added, taunting the animal. The cat watched him as he left but he was unconcerned with the creature.