Alec walked almost aimlessly through the dark series of alleys, sadly not running into anyone else to toy with. The blood was dried on him now, his hair clumped together in a red mess, almost like short little dreads. There was, however, something slightly interesting. He could sense auras, at least a couple of them. The only drawback was that he'd have to head towards the brightly lit street to check it all out. He shrugged to himself absently, thinking, What the hell? Why not?, and began whistling an old Russian tune his mother had taught him when he was a child. The slow, mourning sound echoed down the alley, in between tall apartment complexes. If there was any such thing as paradise for Alec, then this was it. He folded both of his hands together behind his head, and kept walking in a laid-back manner.
Finally, the alley was beginning to be illuminated by the street lights, Almost there., Alec thought as he continued his whistling, and then he stepped out into the light. His eyes needed to adjust for a second, and while they were doing so, he wiped a hand through his grimy hair, barely able to pull his fingers through the tangled mess. Finally, they broke free, clumps of coagulated blood falling and then plopping onto the ground, splattering their slightly leaky contents around them. Alec's fiery eyes, with red-orange rimmed irises, progressively turning into a dark, bloody crimson towards the center, surrounding his cat-like, vertically slit pupils, looked at his gore covered hand. A disgusting red, snot-like substance coated it. He smirked wickedly, eyes half-lidded, protecting his sensitive pupils from the harsh city lights, and shook his hand, the filth whipping through the air and out onto the street, just happening to land on a pssing car's windshield.
The driver, one Wallace Patterson, skidded his vehicle to a halt, already having a bad enough day, in between work, and the child custody disputes with his wife, and jumped out of his car to confront the asshole that had just ruined his windshield with a slurpee or some shit. He left his car in the middle of the road, his daughter staring wide-eyed at her father who was about to beat up some street-punk. Mr. Patterson stormed over to the kid, who had lurked slowly into the shadows of the alley, and rose his index finger, "You!" He shouted, "Get the fuck out here!!" Alec giggled, stepping further back into the alley, his disgusting hair covering the glow of his eyes. "Now!!! You trash!"
Little Ashley Patterson's face was pushed right up against the glass of the backseat's window, her breath fogging it up, watching her father. She knew her father could fight, she had seen him beat up mommy a lot, and mommy was strong. She was always able to pick up Ashley, and then throw her into her room on the floor easily. Daddy must be really strong then. She rubbed away the perspiration on the window with the overly long sleeve of her shirt, and then bobbed her head from side to side excitedly, pigtails bouncing back and forth wildly.
And that was when a burst of flames illuminated the alleyway for a split second, casting daddy's shadow out onto the street, but Ashley still couldn't see the asshole that had thrown a slushee at the window, not from her angle. And then, out of nowhere, there was a huge sword sticking through daddy's chest, out his back, blood dripping off the blade down to the ground, making a quiet pitter-patter noise. And then someone started whistling, slow, echoing, sad whistles, and Ashley Patterson was screaming inside the car, fogging up the windows even more, as Alec walked out of the darkness of the alleyway and onto the street, towards the car, dragging Wallace Patterson behind him in one hand, and his massive sword scraping against the asphalt in his other hand. The car door was still open, and Alec threw the body into the driver's seat, rubbed his hand against the wound in the man's chest, making sure he had enough blood, then began drawing the symbol of Satan's Children on the backseat window, still fogged up by the little girl, still screaming.
Alec whistled on without seeming to notice, until he completed the symbol, when he stopped and looked straight at the girl with his fiery eyes. "You might wanna get out."
She shook her head furiously, backing up into the door opposite Alec, then screamed, "Asshole!"
Alec didn't acknowledge her, as she went on crying, and recited the words, in Russian this time, the whistling seemed to have made him slightly nostalgic, he was even thinking in Russian now, "Satana maya blagoslovlyayet vashi dooshi; poskol'koo Vi Gryeshili i - tyepyer' chast' Myertvih ...... zmyey." Wallace Patterson's corpse began bloating, blisters and welts forming all over it, reaching impossible sizes, like they should have burst, but the skin was too thick to allow anything to come out. Alec slammed the driver's side door, the little girl looking from behind her tears in terror at her father, and then he exploded. First the skin split open all over his body, simply rupturing from the unnatural pressure that had built up inside of him, and then his insides were realeased. Veins and arteries strung out all over the inside of the car, bone shards stabbing into the seats, getting stuck in the windows, not quite able to escape the carnage, and the guts, the organs, all simply exploding and loosing their contents all over the inside of the car.
If the other auras that were nearby, maybe a block away in both directions, hadn't noticed Alec's rather large aura by now, then they couldn't have not felt this. When the ritual is performed, a powerful aura explodes all across the area, sure, it helped Angels track Vampires, but it was only obviously after they had sent at least one soul to hell. Alec smirked as he walked back into the alley, dragging little Ashley Patterson behind him, screaming her lungs out, blood and chunks of flesh dripping off of her. Alec had already committed the maze of dark passages to memory. Now he had to simply wait. "Let's see... who comes running." He smiled deviously, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the alley, the little girl protesting loudly. He didn't care. He wanted someone to come.