Peter could feel the cries of the dying within the city. There were four or five every day, but tonight he could feel that there were far more than usual. He knew that something big was happening, and that tonight might be his best chance to complete his tenth Oversoul. It was a risk, but if he played his cards right he could take as many souls as necessary without being caught. The issue he was having was that he did not know whether he should go towards the mess and harvest from there to add to the mayhem, or to go as far away as reasonable to split the focus of the Bobbies.
He walked out of the house he was staying in, leaving the occupiers of the building in peace for the first time, even if they were more like objects than people. Over the week he has been staying, he had practiced his fine control over his power by draining the very essence of life out of the people who had lived there. In the end he had left a sobbing flesh-table, a chair and two stools out of what used to be a happy family. The Book of Death claimed that the people he has done this to would have around a fifty percent chance of recovery, but Peter simply did not care. He often wondered why people would make such a great deal out of the lives of mortals. They were all going to return to the cycle of rebirth soon enough, so it baffled him as how could anyone consider their lives of value.
He walked down an alley and into the main road, where there were markets set up, and a thoroughfare that allowed quick passage on animals and their riders. Passing one of the fruit stalls, he withered the nearby post that held the stall up and caught an apple from the collapsing stand. The less life in the object, the easier it was to affect. This was why he had chosen a family of normal people to experiment and practice on. He knew that they had less life force in them than even an Earthen practitioner, but they still had enough life to give him a small challenge.
He took a bite out of the apple and mulled over the choices he had to make. Did he just go for completion of his tenth Oversoul, or did he go for more? He had no idea how many deaths he would be able to get away with, but he could feel the deaths of around a hundred people nearby, and if Peter could feel it, then the Bobbies definitely knew.
Peter took another bite of the apple, enjoying the flavour and crunch, before deciding on making a separate site to work on. He would draw some of the bobby attention away, and try to go for not only his tenth Oversoul, but his eleventh as well. The massacre would be dangerous, but Peter truly believed that he was untouchable by anyone who wished to harm him but also had a conscience. If they decided to kill him, then the souls he used to guard would block for him and shatter in his place. He also knew that the souls themselves were not permanently contained within him. He could, in theory, release the souls of certain people, but he could not think of a reason why he would want to. It would make him categorically weaker, which was against everything he had worked for. He still needed strength, strength to gain everything he wanted, and then strength to keep it when he got it. Peter was no idiot. He knew how the world worked, that had been drilled into him from birth. He had to fight to get where he was, and he would be damned if anyone was going to take what was his from him.
He smiled to himself and threw the apple away, draining the life from it as it left his hand. He knew that in theory, he could survive on life essence alone, and that many of his family members did, but food was far too tasty to give up. If anyone had watched the apple, they would have seen the fruit decay in midair. It went from a bright red, crisp apple into a mouldy mess in a matter of moments, before quickly decaying into dust as it hit the ground.
Peter strode with purpose towards one of the seedier parts of the executioners pen. The area was filled with battle crazed papers. No one knew why, but the people around Panwood Lane were known for being prone to combat and quick to anger, which was perfect for Peter’s plan. The inhabitants of the area had a natural affinity for mana, but their comprehension of the laws that made up the world was lacking, so rarely achieved anything higher than Saint. The vast majority were filled with Earthen souls that were perfect for Peter’s consumption.
Panwood Lane was not the only ‘hot spot’ in Spirit, nor was it even the only one in the Executioner’s Pen. It was simply the most numerous. The place was perfect for Peter’s plan, with its tight quarter paths, thin walls, and heavily overpopulated living areas. The slightest strange sound, like silence from twenty or thirty people who had always been loud would set others on edge. It would make people panic and hide, adding to the silence. Some would brave the strange silence, but when Peter killed them they would simply add to the fear.
He walked down the Blade, the high street of the Pen, and looked at the faces of the people he passed. He wondered how many of these people would be alive tomorrow. The thought of how many people he would personally end made him shiver with delight, and almost salivate. He could not wait.
The boy looked like a junkie about to get his next fix, eyes wide, mouth drooping, hands twitching slightly, but uncontrollably. It was not pretty, and when people realised that there was something wrong with him he began receiving a wide berth. This shook him out of his stupor, and he walked into an alley to calm down. He needed to be in the best shape before he began his harvest, as well as completely inconspicuous.
Finally Peter emerged, immediately moving off towards Panwood Lane. It was time for the people to join him in eternity. He was so excited.
