It struck you, this was the figure who had killed several whores in more run down parts of the city, this was the figure that's activities had been blamed upon your order. People in their fear of the unknown had attributed this individuals activities to you, they had blamed you for the perfectly executed kills that this killer had carried out. You gripped the handle of the machete that little tighter.
"You didn't answer my question. what are you?"
"You're quite agitated miss, would it not be wise to put down your weapon before you hurt yourself?"
"Answer my question!"
"Very well," he sighed, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to intimidate him. "I am an immortal, we met in the dream world recently, if it wasn't for me you would have fallen victim to the newly transcended dream walkers who's souls pulsed in unison with your own."
"Souls... Pulsed?"
"Like the beating of a heart, you Enlightened can all be identified by fact that you share one soul."
You narrowed your eyes, one foot shifting forward as you assumed a better stance, supporting the weight of the machete as you made certain that you were ready to strike at a moments notice. This wasn't lost on the figure before you, though he merely muttered in reaction. You didn't entirely catch what he had said, though one word stood out in that.
Unwise.
"If we share one soul, then why are you not after my colours, like you were after theirs?"
"You still have your own soul, you still have your own colours. Your own colours are tainted, muddy, they are ugly and not suited to my current work, so you're quite safe right now."
"And... What of my friend, who was in the dream with me?"
"He has no colour."
"What does that mean?"
The figure fell silent, turning to face you as he forced a smile, looking up at you as he seemed to search for words to explain this further. You could see his expression betraying how he wasn't entirely certain himself, how this confused him. He was an immortal killer, a man who's mind was quickly working through the motions of trying to make sense of it.
"I wish I knew, miss. I wish I knew," his words betrayed how while Eurochkoles was an enigma to him, he was one that he hadn't put too much thought into. He was one who Pride had taken barely any notice of beyond having him know that he had been seen, he was one who the church seemed to know more about than they were letting on. He was one who this Jack figure before you had no insight on.
As Jack had no idea who Eurochkoles was, you realised Pride had no idea who Jack was.
Pride hadn't even sensed this immortal, and Pride had always claimed that when it came to it, he was the greatest power in the city. This gave you hope, this told you that pride was flawed, that he was blind to his flaws. If he didn't know about this one, then there were no doubt others that he was unaware of.
"I'm not done with you yet," you snapped as you watched Jack starting to stand, though he paid no heed to the warning your tone was supposed to impart. He merely smiled in response, straightening his waist coat as he breathed deeply, looking up at the night sky.
"I suggest you go home miss, forget what you have seen tonight. It might be better for you not to worry about it, you know?"
"Are you threatening me?" you hissed, lowering the machete as you gripped it with both hands, assuming a stance ready to swipe the blade sideways if he made any sign of moving against you.
"Oh, goodness no. It isn't my style to threaten a lady, besides, do I look like a threat to you, with my knife still sat on the floor like that, and you with such an oversized blade in your hands?"
Everything about him set you on edge, yet he didn't look like much of a fighter. You were unsettled and uncertain and wondering just what you were going to do. Did you question him further, did you press home your advantage and attack him, or did you take heed and travel as far as you could from this gruesome scene?