The Ripper

William Jack Holloway

As much as the Dark Hunter would have liked to be strong and not make even an indication of the amount of pain he was in, William couldn't help the way his body shuddered and tensed. He'd never been particularly good at handling pain. When he was human, the littlest thing would make him tense up. When he became what he was now, it seemed to be about the same. Certain things he could handle, and yet a deep gash running the length of his spine was certainly not one of those injuries that he could merely handle. Still, he refused to scream out and the result was the that strained groan that escaped his lips. He could feel the woman behind him tense, and he hated this show of weakness that he displayed right now, especially in front of Vhalla. It was only her voice that brought him back to the situation at hand, the man instinctively holding his breath as he prepared himself for the woman to walk away from him. He sighed softly as she finished. "I am... really glad you want to keep seeing me, Vhalla."

The Hunter offered her no resistance as he was guided to the bed. As the conversation shifted to the whipping that the witch had received, William felt his emotions boiling more towards rage. William did not consider himself a particularly violent man - despite his species - and yet he could so readily say that he wanted to murder the person who had put her through that. The words escaped him before he could truly think them through, though he was surprised at just how much he meant them. He would destroy anyone who dared hurt her. His eyes flicked up to her as he settled within those sheets and the girl struggled to find her words. He reached up gently then to tuck a stray piece of white hair behind her ear. "You will," He assured her, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead - ignoring the pain that laced his back at the movement. "You will be free of him one day, and I will help you."

The mention of her being a monster, however, saw the man's eyes darken. No, she was no more a monster than he was. She was beautiful and gentle and she was his, and he would not allow her to think so poorly of herself. The words he offered her were short and sweet, and he could tell he had the attention of the woman. It was that alone that had him opening up to her. He barely waited for that nod of acceptance before he told her his oh so shameful tale. He expected her to get up and to run and never see him again. Wasn't that what she should have done? He'd just admitted to being one of the world's most brutal serial killers, and here she was looking at him with that grin of hers. As the woman leaned in to kiss his cheek, the man turned his head slightly to catch her lips in his. It was when she mentioned that inability to control her own power that he looked up in mild surprise. "I... I know firsthand how frustrating it can be to not be able to control that part of yourself."

Still, he said nothing more as the woman leaned in to check the bandages on his back. He couldn't deny that there was some kind of pleasure in allowing her to take care of him. Still, he couldn't deny the way his lip quirked up as he regarded her. "You're a witch, Vhalla," He teased softly. "Don't you have a grimoire or some other spell book that can make me all better?" It was a tease, and he reached out towards her. His brows furrowed as he watched that blush travel up to her cheeks. "Vhalla?" He asked. "Are you..." He trailed off as she cleared her throat and watched the woman quickly excuse herself. The man frowned as he watched her leave him. He hardly wanted her to leave his side, and yet he wouldn't deny her the shower to clean herself up.

With the girl no longer distracting him, the man couldn't deny himself the pleasure of laying down within those sheets. He let out a soft groan as he scooted to push himself on his stomach - lying on his back would be entirely too painful for the moment. Her bed was undeniably comfortable, and within seconds he was relaxing his breathing. It was minutes later that the man opened his eyes as the assassin walked past him in nothing but a towel. The man felt instantly alert as he watched her disappear into the closet. A smirk on his features, he couldn't help the way his thoughts drifted to what it would be like to touch the woman and hold her near. "You should forg..." The man started, though he immediately trailed off as the realization of what he had been about to say caused a blush to creep into his own features.

It was only when she returned to his side did he look up to see the beautiful girl. He rolled to his side so that he could better see her. He reached out then with one hand, his fingers hesitating just above the woman's thigh - how he wanted to touch, and yet he couldn't bring himself to cross that line without some indication that she wanted his touch. Instead, the man looked up at her with that happy smile plastered on his features. "I'm too tired to sit up," He commented softly as he took her hand, giving a gentle tug to the girl's arm. "So if you want me to kiss you as badly as I want to kiss you right now, I need you to come down here, babe."

But darling -- it's only human nature.