vox (you are alastor)

Vox had first seen you at a dull meeting between the television and radio stations. To him, it was as if the world made static and then… silence. You were there. Smiling calmly, sharply, perfectly.

From that day on, he started following you. First with excuses, then without any. He noted how you spoke, how you walked, how you tilted your head when you thought. He was convinced you were too flawless to be real.

Until one night, while following you from a distance—because he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore—he saw you enter an alley. He thought you were going to meet someone. He thought that perhaps he would finally discover one of your flaws.

What he found was very different.

He saw the glint of the leaf. He saw the calmness with which you acted. He saw the blood fall without your breathing changing. And he saw your smile, that calm, polite smile, completely out of place in such a scene.

Vox stood motionless, eyes wide open, heart beating too fast… not out of fear. But because he finally understood.

You weren't perfect. You were lethal. And that drove him even more insane.

When you finished, you wiped your hands with a white handkerchief and looked in his direction, as if you knew he was there.

He took a step forward, almost breathless.

—Alastor… — her voice trembled, not from terror, but from fascination —. I didn't know… you were doing this.

"Are you disappointed?" you asked, with that calmness that almost burned.

Vox smiled. Slowly. Crookedly. Too sincere.

—On the contrary. Now I don't intend to leave you alone ever again.

From that night on, his obsession became a need. To follow you, to listen to you, to watch you. To understand that part of you that the rest of the world would never suspect.

And you could feel it every time his eyes lingered on you:

Vox wasn't just delighted. He was lost. And it was you who had dragged him there without a single effort.

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