June 18th, 1889 - Magical London
Immediately after The Kill of the Night [M]

Hot tea on a cold winter's night.

This was so much more pleasurable - so much more intimate. She'd heard of chilled ice pops, but to Azazel, that took the fun out of the night. And the kill always made it that much more enjoyable. She liked it when they struggled, yes. But oh, how she enjoyed it more when they put up a fight.  This one certainly had - she'd ruined her new cloak, for God's sake! She'd have to get a new one - that shouldn't be a problem.

Now that she was full she needed to get rid of the bodies. The chaperone had proved to be an easier kill and was less drained than the debutante, which made the debutante easier to carry. Still, she made sure the debutante was well hidden before making her way through neighborhoods, slinking in the shadows. Within ten minutes she was to the proper destination and proceeded to bury the chaperone with a shovel she'd stolen found from an obliging tool shed. The other woman was buried 50m away; she took greater care with this one, burying her almost reverently before stepping back to admire her handiwork.

The two mounds were barely indistinguishable from nearby piles of dirt. Satisfied, Azazel flitted through neighborhoods, dropping the shovel in another obliging yard.

All in a night's work.

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