Bitter [Open]

Apples

The corrupted weapon, Victor waltzed about a market in New York, deciding which delicacy he was going to feed upon...A blonde or a brunette? The only other thing to think about was the fruit that went well with a human soul; but it couldn't be just some hooker. It was the irrationality of hunger for purity that kept the dark weapon afloat. Irrationality...meant survivability. Any normal being would second-guess feeding on others' souls to avoid the devastation of fears and negative emotion, something he did to close that well. While some parts of America were ones he was not particularly welcome in, he had found refuge in New York. Refuge in its sewage-equivalent parts while the dining was done during business hours in the mainstream areas.  

Or grapes

Upon his site had been two wonderful mothers, both harboring a child inside them and one already the mother of two. He had watched them for some time now, to determine if they were worthy of him feeding upon one or the other. While normally he would take both, the one has children that may grow to discover the executioner and seek vengeance of their own. The difference was the inclusion of rationality and maturity to this vengeance, rather than his own generalization of Meisters. It was a Starbucks, a wretched coffee shop with the most up-tight people who usually go in-and-out for their lattes and Frappes. But these two actually sat down and talked in the coffee shop, without harshness or rudeness in their tone. Each complimented one another in a manner that made them actual friends who respected that fact. Oh, what a heart-breaking decision. The lovely mother or the soon-to-be mother? Both were "twofers" with the growing babies inside them, so the only factor stopping him from choosing both was the aforementioned children...It had to be the brunette.

Apples. I should pick some up on my way to dinner.

Preparations were made to seek out both mothers, including finding out where they lived and what routes they took home. It had been week since Victor began his hunt. Exiting the coffee shop, he quickly made haste to a fruit market where he would steal two apples before leaving to pursue the brunette soon-to-be mother. It took a few minutes, but he eventually caught up to her. With a cynical smile, he watched her from the shadows before taking a side-route to her house, one that contained thugs that didn't care about a mountain of meat's traversal but would have mugged the poor mother. Moments ahead of her, Victor busted through the back door to be met by her dear, late husband.

Ivory. The walls were ivory. And so was the blood of the brunette's late husband, a correlation? Nope, not like there was the ichor of a human being fluently spread about. This was an evil being's doing, but the couple apparently never encountered a Kishin before. The blade-hand slowly reformed into a human hand, just as the soon-to-be mother entered the house, shocked by the silence and baffled by the dark feeling going down her spine. Is honey in the living room? Nope. Is he in the den? Nope. Up stairs? Nope. The last choice....was just answered by screams. "Why are you here?" she screamed...which only aroused Victor in a non-sexual but energetic way. No answer, just simply the silencing of the poor, little lamb. Victor had already devoured the husband's soul, and soon he would take what was rightfully his, the wife's. But alas, good things never last for the screams caused the neighbors to call the authority, which surprisingly was not done when he broke in and killed the husband.

Dining and dashing, Victor made his way away from the area of the murder. Surely someone from DWMA would be sent there with how brutal it was. To ease his thoughts while walking down the street a few blocks away, he began eating his apples but noticed that they only became...bitter.