Shame tastes good

Butcher wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand. He always hated these nights when he felt compelled to feed. He hadn't found any sort of animal that quenched his thirst for blood quite like humans so he always made sure to pick ones that didn't seem to happy with their lives. He'd talked to his prey before he'd eaten and the young man lying on the ground at his feet had been very unhappy with his life. He was going to commit suicide anyways so it was almost like Butcher did him a favor.

Still the way he'd just given up gladly without a fight made Butcher feel sick to his stomach. He reached down and stole the man's wallet and pocketted it before picking him up to carry away somewhere for burial. He always buried his victims. It seemed courteous.

Wings. It was still weird having wings.

Butcher flew back to the spot where he had killed the boy after he was done dumping the body. Where would he go now? Back home? To Sisky's parent's house to sit outside the window and watch the younger man sleep and protect him from danger? That was kind of creepy he should really stop doing that. What if Sisky saw him? He might be off in the Virgin Islands anyways.

"I wonder where Mike and William are. Chiz is in Australia." Butcher unfurled his wings and hopped up to take flight again. He needed a familiar face to watch from a distance. He wanted to feel less lonely.