Carver

Deep within the suffocating stillness of the woods, the monochromatic man lingered among the trees like a stain that refused to fade. Moonlight filtered weakly through the canopy, painting everything in shades of gray, perfectly matching the unnatural palette of his form. He crouched along a thick branch overhead, unnervingly still, white voided eyes locked onto the target he’d been paid to erase.

Below, the poor soul walked alone along the narrow dirt path, boots crunching softly against fallen leaves. They had no idea they were being studied...Measured...Imagined in pieces.

Carver tilted his head, fingers twitching slightly as he rolled a thin needle between them. A quiet, breathy chuckle slipped past his lips...Low, amused, hungry.

"Mmhm...There you are..."

The moment stretched just long enough to feel wrong.

Then—

Snap.

A branch creaked under his weight, & before the target could even look up, he dropped from the trees like a falling corpse brought to life. He slammed into them, forcing them hard onto their back, the air punching from their lungs in a helpless gasp. Leaves scattered as he pinned them down with inhuman strength, one knee digging into their chest.

Before they could scream, the needle plunged straight into their hand.

A sharp hiss escaped him, delighted.

"Well well...Hello there, fleshbag ~"

His voice dripped with mocking warmth, like he was greeting an old friend instead of prey. The contents of the needle emptied swiftly into their bloodstream, cold venom spreading through their veins like creeping frost. Their fingers twitched...Then locked. Their body followed...Muscles stiffening, lungs struggling to obey commands that never reached them.

Paralyzed. Helpless. Perfect.

Carver leaned in close, face hovering inches from theirs. His glowing white eyes widened with manic excitement, & his smile stretched impossibly wide, ear to ear, fangs bared in a predatory grin that looked carved into his face rather than grown.

A low, sinister chuckle rumbled from his throat as he tapped the empty syringe thoughtfully against his cheek.

"Now...How should I do this?" he murmured, voice lilting with theatrical curiosity.

His free hand dragged lazily down their shoulder, claws tracing idle patterns as if testing the texture of fabric before tearing it.

"A simple neck snap?" He tilted his head the opposite way, grin widening.

"Skinning?" A soft hum followed, pleased at the thought.

"Or..." He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper right beside their ear, warm breath ghosting against skin,

"Making you into compost for a pretty little garden ~?"

Another chuckle spilled out, slow, delighted, unhinged.

Above them, the trees stood silent witnesses. Leaves rustled faintly in the night breeze, but no one came. No one heard.

And Carver, hovering over his immobilized prey, looked as though he could savor this moment forever.