An abandoned steel mill, Sacramento.

Praetorious waved a dismissive hand. "Fair enough," he said. "In that case, I think I've had enough of this day." He peeled away, over the dense forest of pipes and machinery as he navigated through the large chamber. He was quite suddenly exhausted. He sported a veritable smorgasbord of wounds- lacerations from the Holder of the Tower, cracked ribs, the stab wound from Muramasa, and a small but somewhat noticeable hole in his head. This weariness was compounded by the fact that he hadn't slept in two days, and only for a few minutes when he had. Especially after killing, he knew he would need to set aside a couple hours for himself.

Eventually, he found his other duffel bag, the one that contained his clothing and essentials, having left the one full of his kill tools hidden among the pipes and machines. Praetorious rummaged about until he found a small pillow, plain and white. He tossed it on the floor, lying down and resting his head on it. Comfort was not much of an object to him, and he didn't feel like fixing his futon at the moment.

Praetorious took out his contact lenses, ungloving his left hand. He then unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt, enough to expose some of the hole in his chest to the cold air. Rolling over his side, he thought about the police officer- should he have disposed of the body? And what should be done about the car? He decided they would be fine for the night. There was a river a short walk from the mill, once used to transport basic iron by boat. It would now be perfect for obliterating evidence. Once he'd prepared the policeman's body, he would divide it between five or six trash bags, and throw them in, followed by the police car. There would be nothing left.

Praetorious closed his eyes. He was dimly aware that he was still wearing his blood-soaked clothes, the handcuffs still around his left wrist. He didn't care. No one was going to find him, or the corpse, or the police cruiser in the next few hours. Sighing, he drifted into a merciful sleep.

Argyle peeked through the fallen wood into the kitchen of the abandoned mill. It was either the kitchen or the break room, or both. Either way, he could see a table or an oven from here.

"Well, here's where we can make food..." he mumbled, absentmindedly tugging a little on the wood. He looked back at Olivia, who sat nearby.

"It's all you." She smiled brightly at him.

He nodded and wrapped his hands around a large piece of wood. One flesh, and one steel. He thought for a moment and carefully pulled with a moderate amount of force, and it shifted far more than it should have. He smiled a little, at his new strength. Effortlessly, he pulled the wood out of the way and tossed it aside. Within minutes, the doorway was clear.

Olivia wheeled in behind him as he made his way to the oven and flicked the switch. He heard the gas run on the top burners, but no flames appeared. He shrugged; they were very lucky the gas was working at all, igniting it would be no problem.

"Shall we find the showers then?" asked Olivia, looking around at the dirty kitchen with a slight amount of disdain. "We're really going to need it, living in this dump."

Argyle nodded and followed her out of the room.

((OoC: They'll just be looking around for the night, Ed, you can do what you want from here.))

Suddenly, Praetorious was jarred awake. Instinctively, he knew that he'd only slept for about half an hour, probably less. His vision was slightly blurry, his body sluggish. He needed more time. Although he was fairly sure that he was incapable of falling asleep accidentally, it was not a theory he wanted to test.

What had woken him up? It must have taken a loud noise to penetrate the pump house's walls. He could hear nothing and see little in the pitch darkness. He felt around, grabbing his iPhone. Turning it on, Praetorious shone the light from the screen around him, using it as an impromptu flashlight. Rodents and other small animals seemed to avoid him, and indeed there were none scurrying about. What had awoken him? Sleep was important right now, just as important as his work. Sighing, he turned off the phone again, lying back down.

Then he heard it.

Faint at first, but rapidly growing louder, a high-pitched whine became audible. It sounded mechanical, but Praetorious couldn't tell. What could it be? As he focused, he could hear a faint rumbling outside, accompanying the whine. He began to realize that something very bad was about to happen. The rumbling of motors, the whine of some gadget...

An explosion shook Praetorious from his thoughts, somewhere near the back of the pump house. It was controlled, smaller than it should have been. He estimated it to be around fifty meters from him. A moment later, he heard rustling, and footsteps. Damn it. Was it police? They didn't carry explosives like that, as far as Praetorious knew. They had to be a SWAT Team or something similar. But how did they know about him? Did they trace the police car's location? Who could have seen it? Did someone tip them off? If so, who?

Damn.

Judging by the footsteps, there had to be four or five. He could hear clicking and snapping as well- no doubt submachine guns and night vision equipment. He wondered what they would use; it would be to his advantage if they used thermal vision, as he gave off no heat signature. He would simply have to rely on stealth if they used more old-fashioned night vision, or flashlights.

He heard a pair of footsteps coming his way, and briefly considered trying to fill a syringe with M99, but decided against it. His hands were weapons enough. And if it came to combat, Praetorious did not intend to leave any alive. He would consider their deaths compensation for disturbing him.

As silently as he could, Praetorious slid in between two pipes, and watched as the first agent came into view.

Agent Joseph Simkins raised his weapon to eye level, assuming the slightly hunched- forward position he'd been taught at the academy. Flipping down his night- vision visor, Simkins clicked the switch, the thermal imaging a welcome change from the pitch blackness of the steel mill's pump house. Somehow, his instinctive fear of the dark was attenuated by the soft blue light that seemed to emanate from everything. His footsteps made almost no sound as he fanned away from the unit, radiating from the hole in the wall their gate- crasher bomb had created. His head turned slowly, the thermal imaging equipment of his visor allowing nothing to remain hidden in the dark. Nothing alive would be able to escape.

Simkins advanced down a corridor of pipes, weaving in and out as best he could. His surroundings remained a dull blue monochrome. Nothing alive was detectable. Just endless streams of pipes as far as he could see, twisting and interlocking into a strange web. Until...

There was something between them. Simkins couldn't quite make out the figure at first. He moved closer.

Oh god.

A corpse was jammed between the pipes, unmoving and inert. How long had it been there? It was completely cold, Simkins could see, but it hadn't started decaying. It must have been killed tonight. And how? There were no visible signs on its body. Jesus. Simkins flicked his submachine gun to automatic-

-Just as the corpse's fingers wrapped around his throat.

Praetorious lifted Simkins into the air, the agent struggling and thrashing. His gun fell to the floor, his eyes wide with shock beneath the thermal imaging lenses of his visor. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. How could it be alive?

As it happened, those were the last thoughts Simkins would have.

A sort of cough could be heard, and a powerful wind gusted through the hole in Praetorious' chest. Blood poured from the new hole in the agent's head, the man having been killed instantly. Praetorious tossed him to the floor, retreating back into the pipes.

What was that?

Who could the gunman have been? The filthy man who had shot him in the head earlier? And if so, why would he shoot the agent? No, it couldn't be him. That didn't make sense. Praetorious slid deeper into the web of pipes, trying to make himself as difficult a target as possible. Who would do this? Had they tipped off the police? And if so, why kill them?

Unless...

The woman. A. She knew about his shadow- self. She knew about his monster. It made sense to him that she was trying to deprive him of his satisfaction. His need. But why, after sacrificing the altar boy to him? It didn't make any sense.

Suddenly, he heard gunshots, close by. He'd been found! Praetorious ducked, but no sooner had he than he heard two more muted coughs, followed by two more bodies hitting the ground.

What in hell?

Marnin hung upside-down from the steel rafters by one foot, perfectly still, rifle held just as still. Praetorius had been discovered, and was lifting an officer off the ground by his neck. He could practically sense the satisfaction beginning to swell within the vessel. To end it, Marnin adjusted his aim slightly and sent a bullet through the officer's head.

He smirked slightly to himself. This would be a fine night. He moved his body slightly and forced his body into a swing, and he wrapped one hand around an adjacent rafter, before flipping his body onto it and looking back downward with the night scope. He hadn't made a single sound, a single misstep. This was his way. He would stay one step ahead of Praetorius in this game.

Two more officers were rushing upon Praetorius, and reflexively, he picked them off with two clean shots. He then shook his head. If the police continued to fire so wildly, he would have to pick them off much too soon.

(Alright, alright, new stuff here)

Argyle had barely begun to hear the thundering footsteps in the mill when a SWAT officer stormed into the room that he and Olivia were occupying.

"Put your hands behind your back, NOW!" he shouted, long muzzle pointed in their faces.

Olivia gasped a little, looking surprised, but the officer didn't appear to be going easy on a handicapped woman. She quickly put her hands behind her back, and the officer pointed the gun at Argyle in turn, who was hestitating.

"Turn around, on your knees!" He slowly turned around, and before he could kneel, the officer rushed up behind him and roughly shoved him down to the ground, drawing a grunt.

"Hands behind your back," he restated, and Argyle obeyed him. The officer knelt down to cuff him, but stopped. Argyle began to wonder what was keeping him when he felt the officer grab his metal hand, twisting it to get a better look at it.

"Is this a prosthesis...?" the officer muttered under his breath. Argyle smiled to himself. He couldn't have been given a better opportunity. In a flash, he grabbed the unsuspecting officer's hand with his own metal one, twisting it as he spun back around. He heard the bones in his wrist snap at the same time he drove his elbow into the man's face.

The officer screamed and began to raise his gun, but Argyle grabbed him by the throat and backed him against the far wall, lifting him off the ground.

"Olivia, I'm sorry," said Argyle. "You're not going to want to see this. Please, look away."

He bashed the gun to the ground and raised his metal hand, holding his fingers together like a spear.

"I sacrifice this man to the Artificier." Then, with all his strength, he thrust his hand through the man's armor and into his heart.

*I appear to have neglected this. Bad me. D:*

Spikes of bone and steel shot from the wall as Argyle withdrew his hand, impaling the officer dozens of times. There was enough time for the agent's eyes to go dead before the spikes tore him apart, spraying blood about willy-nilly. They hung for a moment, dripping chunks of meat hanging on them, before receding into the wall, leaving no evidence that they had ever appeared.

**********

Praetorious was beginning to get agitated. He was moving between pipes again, evading the operatives as best he could. But now, something had changed. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn't get to rest after his kill. Perhaps it was murdering someone who wasn't a Seeker. Either way, a switch inside him had suddenly flipped- from hunted, to hunter.

And the hunter was being denied his prey.

Just as he got close enough to savor the catharsis of the kill, just when he could almost hear the pulsing of blood through their veins, the maddening cough would sound, and his prey fell dead to the ground. His shadow-self ground its teeth in rage at every kill denied it. The lust for death was coming back, far sooner than it ever had before. It usually took almost a week before Praetorious needed to pursue another quarry, but something in the last couple days had sent his red thirst into overdrive.

The predator wove in and out of openings as he crept along, his passage noiseless. To his right, he spotted another agent. The haze began to creep into his vision, but he kept it at bay. Now was not the time to lose himself. He crept silently closer. Shadow-Praetorious slavered.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

He reached out.

Cough.

The agent fell to the ground as the bullet penetrated his skull. Praetorious cursed under his breath, the irritation flooding him. He wasn't angry- it took far more than that to elicit anger from him. In fact, only one being in existence had ever enraged him. And Praetorious knew that this gunman was not that being. How?

Well, for one thing, Jack Empty preferred knives to sniper rifles.

Praetorious shook the thought from his head, catching the operative as he fell so as not to make a sound. He looked closer at the bullet wound in his forehead. It couldn't be from a window. No, the shooter had somehow snuck into the mill. But how could he be getting shots off? From the ceiling? Praetorious wasn't sure how that would work.

He slid back into the maze of pipes, the dark predator inside burning for confrontation. It wanted to tear apart the jackal that stole the prey that rightfully belonged to him. Once Praetorious was deep within the metal labyrinth, he looked up.

"So," he called to the ceiling, "how long do you plan to continue this?"

Abyssi Marnin swung back up onto a rafter as Praetorius' voice called out. Looking down through the scope, he couldn't see the man with the hole in his chest anywhere. Of course, he knew the mill better than Marnin did, and had probably found a good hiding spot.

Now then, did Praetorius know that he was up here, or was that a guess? More than likely, an educated guess. The ceiling was the best place to fire from. Yet still, answering his question was as pointless as it was foolish. Instead, he slung the gun over his back and walked on all fours down the rafter, hands cupped around it like a sloth's.

He felt something then, as he moved along. A sudden inescapable presence somewhere deep in the mill, and a life snuffed out. It was the presence of the Artificier. Then, it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. What had just happened?

He shook his head. That was an issue that could be dealt with later. Instead, from his new vantage point he aimed his gun back in Praetorius' general direction, waiting for another officer to approach.

He wouldn't answer his question, to even minutely placate his surely growing irritation. He still had many bullets left, and by the time they were all gone, he wanted it to be at the end of an uninterrupted growth of anger. Praetorius would know no satisfaction until Marnin allowed him to have it. He would feel Marnin's grip on him absolutely.

His finger tickled the trigger as another agent wandered close by. That man squeezed off a few rounds to try and startle Praetorius into revealing himself. Marnin waited patiently.

Olivia had been told to look away. She knew she should, but she couldn't. She watched it with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide and scared, her hands still frozen in place behind her back. They had come busting in and demanded that she put them there. She didn't know who they were after, probably Praetorius, she knew Argyle hadn't done anything tonight....until now anyway. Somewhere inside herself though, she knew she had to watch this. This was part of her friend now, and part of Praetorius as well, the murdering. She couldn't be a hypocrite, couldn't condone their actions while not looking upon them, and experiencing them. She watched him shove the officer against the wall and rip his heart out. The look of shock and horror and pain on his face. This man was a man of the law, he had a family, he had friends, and his life had been taken away now, by someone she knew. Then she saw the spikes.The bone and steel emerged and tore the man apart, she was splattered with blood and pieces of the officer. She finally withdrew her arms from behind her and wiped at the blood uselessly before wrapping them around herself. She began to shake a little and she put her head down as the steel and bone disappeared back into the wall. She tried to hide behind her hair, and tried to tell herself that this was how it was now. She had to stand up to this. But still she continued to shake. That poor man....she put a quivering hand up to her forehead, trying to hide her face and trying her best not to cry.

Praetorious heard warning shots, but knew they were panic fire. The agent probably assumed that he was the shooter, picking off the gunmen one at a time. The hunter felt a spark of annoyance inside of him, irritation circling like an ember in the wind inside his empty chest.

The shooter didn't answer, no doubt to irritate him more. He refused to be angered by it, though. The predator inside refused to be bothered by the jackal that stalked him. Instead, Praetorious continued to move silently through the maze of pipes, trying to find the next officer. Badly as he wanted to kill, Praetorious knew his odds of doing so were slim. However, he could perhaps get a clue as to where the shooter was by paying attention to where the shot came from. Much as the hunter did not want to give up its prey, Praetorious beat it into submission as best he could- it was the only method he could think of.

It didn't take him long to find another of the officers. He moved slowly, stealthily, slowing down to a crawl. He waited for the agent to draw near to the pipes, where he moved as slowly as possible. He wanted to give the shooter ample time to see where he was, ample time to react. That way, Praetorious would better know where he was. While he didn't know what he would do if he knew the shooter's location, he was sure he could think of something.

Marnin watched both of their movements carefully, his crosshairs never moving from the agent's temple as he came closer. Praetorius was moving closer as well, and they would be meeting soon. He squeezed down a little harder. As soon as Praetorius tried to strike...

***

Argyle wiped the blood and gore off of himself as well, not quite expecting such a display of violence when he sacrificed the man. Then he heard Olivia behind him, and turned to see her. She had watched the whole thing, and was clearly heavily disturbed.

At this point, he felt a sinking feeling inside his chest. A feeling he hoped he wouldn't have to feel. The sadness that told him Olivia was being drawn in by this world, steadily and surely. He didn't want this for her. He wanted to do something...

He looked down to see that he was covered with the agent's blood. Positively soaked with it. He turned away, not wanting to force this gore on Olivia, and trying to push away the momentary urge he had to hold her.

Praetorious eyed the agent through the maze of pipes, looking at the equipment he carried. He frowned in concentration for a moment before seeing what he was looking for, eyes narrowing with determination. He inched closer and closer, moving totally silently toward the officer that stalked warily at the maze's perimeter. Just a few more inches.

His shadow-self slavered, furious at the prey denied it, furious at the jackal. It delighted at the thought of finding him and murdering him, hearing his screams. Bleeding him out. The corner of Praetorious' mouth twitched, forming a brief smirk.

It was time. The officer was just inches away from the thicket of pipes almost touching them. Praetorious wove through them silently towards him, keeping his excited shadow-self in check. He grabbed a loose bolt on the ground, feeling how heavy it was in his hand. Then, with all his might, he threw it at the wall, a loud "clang" ensuing. During what he hoped was an adequate distraction, Praetorious dragged the agent into the labyrinth of pipes.

CLANG!

Marning blinked and flashed his eyes to where he heard the sound come from, and by the time he looked back, the officer and Praetorius were gone. Damn it. A moment of carelessness.

He dropped from his perch in a flash, landing on the shoulders of an officer and breaking his spine in five places. He was dead in an instant.

That was probably enough for tonight. Praetorius had gotten the point of the game anyway, he was sure. He only needed to perfect it. Now, there was only one thing left to do. He wanted Praetorius to see what he was dealing with. He needed to know that it was hopeless.

He rounded a corner to see Praetorius on the ground with the officer.

Praetorious looked up, hearing a soft thud. He looked over, wondering what it could be, but quickly dismissed it. It didn't matter- he had his prey. He patted town the struggling agent, keeping him pinned to the ground, and after a moment found his combat knife. A smirk flickered at the edge of Praetorious' mouth for the briefest of moments. The agent, realizing what was about to happen, began to whimper and struggle harder. It was no use. Praetorious traced the knife across his chest, to where the agent's aorta would be. The smirk flickered back again.

Then, he heard something. Footsteps.

He looked up in time to see a figure moving along the pipes, almost as silently as Praetorious himself had been. A rifle had was slung over its shoulder, and odd black wisps seemed to move around it. Despite the darkness and shadows, Praetorious recognized him instantly.

Marnin.

The jackal.

The predator's eyes narrowed, the bloodlust welling up inside him. It was time to take down the wretch that stole what was rightfully his. He would string him up and bleed him out, make him pay. Praetorious was losing his grip- shadow-Praetorious was taking charge now.

In one fluid motion, the hunter slit the officer's throat as he went to all fours, lunging headlong at the jackal Marnin.

Marnin watched dispassionately as Praetorius came headlong for him, snarling like a wild dog. He felt a moment of disgust at it. Praetorius, the former vessel, overtaken by his instincts, was coming to disembowel him.

This was where he was weak. Praetorius was now a creature of instinct, racing blindly forward. Marnin was a creature of control, knowing exactly how to control his body, and to control the bodies of others. His tendons wound like springs as the beast came on, and he didn't move.

Ten feet seperated them, and he didn't move. Five feet, he didn't move. One foot, he didn't move.

When less than ten inches seperated them, Marnin's muscles snapped into a flurry of motion, and he was suddenly standing to the side, watching the beast sail by. His hand whipped down, his knuckles slamming into the base of Praetorius' spine with an exact amount of force. Praetorius wouldn't feel anything immediately. He might not even know that he was struck. But the damage was done. In five seconds, his body would be paralyzed with the one of the greater arrays of pain known to mankind.

Praetorious could sense that something had happened, although he wasn't able to tell immediately what. The jackal was beside him now, fist plunging into his lower back. Knowing Marnin, Praetorious realized this wouldn't be good for him. His left arm went out in midair, the crook of his elbow slamming into Marnin's throat. He wrapped it around the jackal's neck, bringing him down to the ground with him.

Praetorious was beginning to feel his muscles tense up, his movement more restricted. This was no doubt because of Marnin's attack. As fast as he could, he constricted his hold on Marnin's neck, trying to keep him still and perhaps deprive him of oxygen. With more effort than he'd ever had to use, he jammed his knee into Marnin's solar plexus, applying as much pressure as he could as he hooked his other leg around Marnn's. Praetorious didn't think he would be paralyzed all the way, as his nerves didn't work normally, and he probably wouldn't feel much pain, considering how he'd handled the gunshot wound, but his speed was greatly impeded.

With all his might, the predator squeezed the Jackal's neck and applied pressure to his solar plexus, hoping it would be enough to immobilize him.

Clever dog...

His body was quickly and effectively locked up with Praetorius', a move he far from expected. Praetorius' muscles were already locking up, and although it was beginning to immobilize him, it was also serving him to apply more pressure to Marnin's neck and solar plexus. He couldn't breathe, which would be fine for now, but the pressure to his solar plexus was beginning to cause him some pain.

He was in trouble, but he only needed to escape. With what Marnin had done to the vessel's nervous system, he wouldn't be able to trap him like this again. Luckily, his arms were still free, and any pick of nerve clusters were within arm's reach.

He dug two fingers into the underside of the arm around his neck, and the arm reflexively sprung open, numb and useless. With that pressure off, his body sprung open, and with his other arm coming up into the man's shoulder with a large amount of force, Praetorius was thrown clean off.

Damn.

It had been naive of Praetorious to think that he could trap Marnin the jackal so easily, but he was out of options. The force of his own body threw him off of Marnin, and he landed on his back a foot or so away. He cursed under his breath. The paralysis had taken hold, and even with his nervous system, it was all he could do to wiggle his fingers.

Damn it.

What had happened to him? It was like he'd lost control as soon as he'd seen Marnin. His shadow-self had rose up, leering at him, forcing him to leap straight at the jackal. And look where it had gotten him. He'd given in to the beast, just for a moment, and it had cost him Marnin's life. This had never happened before. Why now? Why was shadow-Praetorious so agitated?

How had it compelled him to attack?

The agent's combat knife was a few inches from his hand, but Praetorious knew he wouldn't be able to reach it. His fingers moved in vain, eyes darting around.

(hark, now that I've finally gotten hold of Jude, I can finish this )

Marnin's foot crushed down on Praetorius' twitching wrist, holding it to the floor. His other hand clamped around his neck, his fingers hovering teasingly over central nerves, just in case Praetorius did something unexpected. His foot kicked away the knife that lay nearby.

As Abyssi Marnin bent over, his spectral horns and claws seemed to come slightly more into focus. He leaned closer so the man could hear his whispers.

"Your efforts are ineffectual, vessel. You were cast away, and serve no purpose anymore, except for what I decide for you. You struggle in vain, and for what? To return Objects to their Holders? There already exists something to fulfill that purpose; perhaps someday I can introduce you to Them."

He stared down at Praetorius, the Madness seeming to leak from his nose and mouth like a mass of tiny spiders slowly venturing outward.

"Your pointless and redundant existence is out of your hands now. So, when you are left alive, know that you have only me to thank. See you again soon."

The darkness forming around his face seemed to swell up around Marnin's body, and in the next moment, he was gone, leaving Praetorius sprawled haphazardly on the floor, alone.

Shadow-Praetorious raged and screamed. It thrashed, writhing inside Praetorious' mind, furious, shouting wildly. The jackal had escaped. Praetorious' shadow-self split his eardrums with its shrill cries of rage, the sound reverberating inside his skull. He felt sick.

Then, suddenly, the world shifted. Control went back to Praetorious, his shadow-self receding as quickly as it had come. His fingers writhed like the legs of spiders at his sides, unable to move. The steel mill around Praetorious began to darken.

"Jackal," he croaked before his world went black.