Book 2, Chapter 15

He had heard the roar of the motorcycle and to him it was like the trumpets that heralded the entrance of royalty long ago. He leaned against the window frame, listening and waiting as the sound drew closer, feeding on the anticipation until he appeared around the corner: Nicholas Rabbit. They had known him by name as well as by his fate, exchanging snickering laughs at his continued misfortune and endless plight. He was born to suffer and die, and it made Greg smile in vindication. Fate, on his side for the first time in years, had given him an enemy who had lived far past his usefulness.

He is forever a child, dying in adolescence from lives lived too hard and foul to be recalled. He shouldn't be here, he should be dead. This goes against the way of things, against the cycle. He needs to be returned or he may displace another, worthier soul. His is to die as yours is to kill. He can't change that, he shouldn't try to. He has to die.

And Greg agreed, though not for the same reason. He recalled Rabbit's face from his home: the man in the hallway enjoying the presence of another man, or so he seemed to be, and the one that perhaps had been the last to look upon his darling creation Lucky.

Do not hesitate. As the Witness, we are only spectators, but this is more important than our task, and action is required.

Things are in motion. It may already be too late. Why give him a peaceful existence beyond life and miss the things that will come as they came before?

His afterlife may be peaceful but his death will not be.

Greg smiled. As they talked amongst themselves, he watched the alley below. It was rather busy that day, it seemed. Not only had a long awaited fly flown too near to his web, but soon after the other perpetrator of his solitude joined him in the lonely back passage.

He's nothing. His resonance does not disturb us. Forget him, they cautioned, never ones to explain what they felt they didn't need to.

Greg watched both men intently, feeling the familiar heat and excitement in his gut that came when sacrifice and slaughter were on the horizon. There was no time to move just yet; he'd allow them to walk away this once. With his name, Greg could find Rabbit anywhere. There was no reason to rush into it. This would need to be done just right to satiate his hunger. The death needed to last, the taste of his flesh needed to linger on Greg's tongue, his cries needed to whimper from a mutilated mouth for months to come if Greg was ever going to be satisfied.

His own thoughts wandered faithfully to Jin. But why should it be of any concern of his? He obviously knew Rabbit, but from the time that passed while Rabbit was behind his door, their knowledge of each other was only so deep. It was casual, business, and so Rabbit's death could not cause Jin any pain. Jin might even delight in knowing that Greg had gotten his revenge. If the sight of the mangled body ravaged by flesh and blades was too much for him, as for some it was, then Jin could go back to his home and wait for Greg to finish his conquest until returning as usual. Jin knew him, after all, much better than he knew Rabbit. There was no reason he should side with the marked man over him.

Since when do the heartless learn to care? This is something new. Greg Waters is capable of feeling love. He can think about people other than himself and feel worry. Perhaps he is still human after all.

Greg was uninterested in their speculations and observations. He would certainly give them a sight to make even his own hollow voice speechless in due time, and then they could all decide just how interested they were in his humanity.

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