Hunter's Challenge

Hunter's Challenge part 2

Hunter's Challenge Part 2
Brick walls towered about Parson as if reaching for the waxing moon. he studied its nearly full shape with his bruised eyes. The pain from his broken nose still lingered from the week before as the cartilage was still mending, and the two black eyes were now more mottled green than purple. For all the world he looked like a ma who'd been in a bad fight and lost instead of a man who couldn't control his anger.
Cool autumn air was soothing enough to his enflamed ego. A nice walk in the back allies of the German Quarter always assuaged him, even with all the murders going on. A week had passed since the string of female bodies were discovered. The police had shut down the section of the quarter that Parson was walking through until that morning in an attempt to halt the killings. Impressively, the plan had worked. No other women or men had been found since.
The scent of good German ale and sounds of German words wafted in bursts as Parson walked aimlessly through the narrow allies. His nose throbbed a little as he tried to inhale. All the cathartic familiarities relaxed him further into a lulled state.
Parson was blissfully clear headed for the first time since reading that infuriating article. He was decently relaxed, unfettered by thoughts of copycat killers, unconcerned about the location he walked through.
There wasn't another person in sight, which he could actually thank the copy-killer for. As with the male murders there was always a period of weeks where people stayed out of the corridors. The partiers, drug dealers, and other rambunctious population liked to keep to other haunts until their brittle safety returned. Only when someone died did he get this spectacular place to himself. The loss of one person, who was mostly a waste anyway, was a worthy price for such an opportunity. He felt it to be justified for the amount of joy he received from the empty allies.
Parson's steps echoed lightly off hard brick walls decades older than himself. There were no windows and only a few doors in that corridor, causing the echo to go on for longer than typical.
Parson softened his steps to hear better what his ears had began picking up. The noise was ambiguous at first, just a conglomeration of echoes and the real sound mixed together. His feel took him towards it, allowing him to gradually catch it better. Green eyes widened and his foot froze midair. The sound was tearing. There was distinct ripping. It was sawing, wet, squishing, gurgling air.
Blond eyebrows came together as Parson broke into a run towards the noise in his sudden hateful anger. He ran towards the copy-killer as fast as he could. He would catch this unoriginal brat and make them understand how he felt about their mockery.
With his heart pounding in his ears arson rounded the corner and brought the source of the sounds into view. There lay a short-haired ginger woman, her mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish as her fingers clawed the air. He could see her gray, fleshy lungs quivering attempt to bring oxygen into themselves. Her gory ribs were pulled back in semblance of a monster's sharp-toothed maw. Her huge green eyes rolled his way. He could see the clear plea for help.
All trace of the killer were gone. Not even the sound of retreating footfalls could be heard to lead him on.
Parson walked closer to the dieing woman. Her incredible pain was difficult to look upon, but he leaned down beside her and took her shaking hand in his. He pulled a small nasal spray bottle from his pocket, pressing it up into her nostril before spraying. The clear solution entered her sinuses easily, even without her pulling in air. He watched over the next seconds while the spray entered into her brain. Her shaking slowed, stopped, and the light went out of her eyes.
Being careful not to get any blood on himself, he rested her hand back on the cobbled ground, stood, and walked away quickly.