And how the peices fall.

[Hooded Figure]

A small man about 5 foot 6 walked up to the front of the house. He had killed the young women like he was told to. Took a veil of her blood and even drew on the nearest wall. He couldn't beleive he was doing this but still. If he didn't...then He would kill him the instant he saw him.

It was late at night..one in the morning if his internal clock was correct. Undoing the top of the bottle the man tipped it over onto his fingers. The blood was a bit cold now but he still put his hand on the door and smeared the blood. Pointing his mark at the door he whispered a spell and the blood formed in to the familiar form. The dark mark.

Shaking the man turned and ran off into the night. He had done his part. He just hoped that he would be happy with it.

[Jack Clark]

[/i] began to hurt. Jack clenched his arm deeply trying to forgive the pain, trying to pass it away. Ripping up his sleeve he sore it to be moving once again, sneering Jack looked around. No one.. He mumbled. Standing up Jack watch a short person run down his path way. Raising his brow Jack ran to his front door and opened it suddenly. There was no one there.

"Hello?" Jack called out no one was around. His left arm held the door open, a shooting pain sprung into his Mark again. Looking back at it Jack bit his lower lip hard. Noticing some thing drip onto his arm it faded into his mark, looking up Jacks eyes widened. "No.." He said, looking at the mark. Placing his fingers into Jack smelt it, then tasted it. "Blood." He hissed. Before grabbing his jacket that was hanging up and shouted to Harley to look after them selfs, and that Jack would be back soon.

Shutting the door Jack pulled on his Jacket starting to walk down his drive way.[/ul][/size]