"You're the one who stole from the conjoined twins on the street, am I correct?" the hooded figure inquired, voice like ice, piercing through the now frosting core of Von's soul.

"You mean stole from the other half of them that wasn't dead?" he spat back, although amidst his dwindling fury worry was beginning to creep in the back of his hot head. The authorities were surely called by now, and that meant his greatest enemy would soon know he was here, assuming she wasn't with them. They had connections everywhere, much like he used to.

"Well, aren't you going to shoot me?" the figure malevolently teased, as if they could sense he was about to make a run for it.

While the temptation was certainly present, the desire to live was much stronger. He instantly bolted across the startled cafe, but right as he got to the door the very twins he stole from were blocking the path. The deathly scarred one chanted softly, the volume of which rose gradually until it became near deafening.

Swirling around in a sudden panic, Von witnessed the hooded figure casually approach, his arms now covering his ears, gun still clutched in his hand.

She whipped her cloak off in one swift motion, revealing her cracked, somehow beautifully intoxicating, gray skin. Her curled horns were sharper than her pointed ears, but neither as deadly-looking as her teeth. She grinned a terrifyingly carnivorous smile.

"What's wrong?" she teased mockingly, practically inaudible to Von while his senses were overridden by the chant in the background.

Unable to take it anymore, Von shot the glass wall of the currently hysteric cafe, soon leaping through the broken glass.

The ear-splitting chant became significantly louder as he ran away. Curses escaped his lips as the world around him dazed, his head relentlessly pounding due to the inescapable piercing.

Asphalt welcomed him with open arms, scraping his skin as he skidded against it, his senses numb to the pain.

The eyes of the lively twin drooped lazily as they stood over him, almost as if he had completely lost control to the monster he was trapped with.

"Serves him right," the demoness huffed, heard only by her attached companions. "Come on Cyrian, Brad, let's get out of here before the cops come."

The world became solemn as they departed, with a much more bearable screeching sound now accompanying his busted eardrums. "Good," was all he could think, shock still trumping the pain. They weren't bringing him in, so they weren't his enemy. Although, here in the concrete's tireless grasp, his chances of not being found were incredibly low.