[ He can smell it. He can see the light of torches glinting, reflected from induvidual drops. So sharp, so clear. And he is desperate. He is ravenous, desperate from it. Trevor is gone, with the smell of blood. Entirely. There is only the selfish, and it wants and it wants and it wants and it cannot understand why it should be left to want when it has such power, such grace, that it could take anything it pleases from anyone it cared to take it from.
It is gone in the darkness and then it is upon Alucard, tackling him back with claws digging into his chest and face above his, pupils so wide with the smell of blood that there is no blue visible at all in its eyes, and it is wearing Trevor's face but it is not Trevor. ]
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It is gone in the darkness and then it is upon Alucard, tackling him back with claws digging into his chest and face above his, pupils so wide with the smell of blood that there is no blue visible at all in its eyes, and it is wearing Trevor's face but it is not Trevor. ]