"Ah, so you can see me?"

He stopped, the bustling metropolis almost seeming to stop with him, as he looked your way— finally he looked your way.

He said that like he didn't know. Like through tunnels, across from windows, in the sewers— oh, you were persistent— and here, on the street that he hadn't seen you. No, he'd known you were there, following behind for days on end.

He killed them, after all. They had made your life miserable, the how of it you left vague. He killed them; like they were nothing. And just for that, he was a marvel, but it did help that he wasn't displeasing to the eyes.

You wondered, was it more comfortable for him to pretend this was your first meeting? To give you a blank slate, in which hopefully, you could dispel any discomfort you caused? Or was it nothing more than a less overt way of asking you how you plead?

"Human?"