William. [story]

Basically, doing a character study and building on what I previously posted. There are too many influences in my head but I have an idea.. I know who i want William to be. It's just hard to write everything I see.

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William:

Another blind date with his trusty dagger. He knew how to kill and he was damn good at it. Killing became a second nature but one that he was forced into. He had the eyes, the ears, and the strong fearless hands of a hunter. A killer.

He walked the bustling main street a few paces and then ducked into a small alley way, leaning against a putrid brick wall for balance. He never liked the city, it seemed to wrap it's greedy hands around his lungs making it hard to breathe. Collecting himself he continued through the alley, ignoring the smell and clopping through puddles of who knows what..

It hasn't rained in weeks. It seemed. He was always in the forest, hunting, in a completely different world. The forest was unforgiving. It took whatever it needed from whoever spilled blood inside her borders.

William was unforgiven. Tonight would be unforgiven.
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He could hear the blood pumping through the beasts' veins. It's fur giving off the stench of decay and death. It was looking at him. His heart quickened, as it always has when he tightened his grip on the dagger.
The wolf was crouching and shifting his weight from side to side, evaluating the situation and the hunter standing before him. Survival of the fittest. Crooned the wolf in his thoughts.
"I could not agree more."
Within a few seconds the wolf closed the gap between them. Kicking up the forest as it hurdled toward William, full force, foaming at the mouth and intending to bask in the glory of a new kill. William crouched at a crucial point and the wolf flew above him, his dagger met the wolf's chest. He tightened his grip on the hilt and dragged it with him to the ground, gutting the wolf from torso to groin.
The body of the wolf twitched it's death spasms beside him. Repulsive killer. He thought and spat at the corpse not worrying about his aim.

William knew what was coming. He cleaned his knife and sheathed it, protecting it until the next time he would have to take a life. The forest would take a day, week, month from him to cleanse him from this killing. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his hand. Then, a force took over his body and threw him back onto the forest floor. He could see the trees above him swaying and rustling, as if chanting a spell to cleanse him. There it is.. The moment he feared.. The forest made her power known; every time the same way-- He had to experience the death he created.

The feeling of a dagger-- only sharper-- pierced his chest with such force and drew itself down, down, down while snagging his organs and ripping the life out of him, slowly, painfully. William shuddered and started to spasm, the pain was too much. He cursed the forest and rolled over to vomit. He felt the death creep up but he was a hunter of the forest, he had died a thousand times already. The forest kept his life but made him experience the death.

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