Spinel was skulking around in a dark alley of the under city. He was looking for small game. He was laying low after the constant news reports about his string of murders. Though the authorities had no idea who was behind them, he knew that one day they'd probably tie it all together and come for him. 

Although Spinel was far from sloppy with leaving behind any clues that it was he who committed the murders, and the fact that he could easily dispatch any police officers and random grunts thrown his way. But he needed a vacation anyway. The whole lay low thing was mostly just an excuse to get just a little bit lazy with his work. So instead of big time rich people and corporate overlords, he'd prey on a few low lifes for the time being. 

Spinel was a six foot three, two hundred and eleven pound male with pale skin and blue eyes and hair. He had the numbers zero zero dash zero two tattooed onto his left cheek. That signified that he was in level zero security at the most secured prison in Olomnia, the main country of the Karasu, and that her was the second prisoner to ever be in level zero. He was there for mass murder, blasphemy, destruction of property, terrorism, and several other capital offenses. Level zero was hell, basically it was like Guantanamo Bay on steroids. 

Though Spinel had escaped, after four thousand, but escaping was escaping. He now killed whoever he wanted, those years made him even number than he once was. He now killed whoever and whenever he wanted.  He used to simply kill his victims, plain and simple. But now, oh now he would massacre people. He would tear people to shreds and enjoy every second of it. 

As he walked through the alley he saw a homeless man pushing a cart full of cans and other forms of metallic garbage. His clothes were extremely raggedy and dirty. He had a scraggly beard and a dirt covered face. He was a disgusting piece of trash in the eyes of Spinel, a sick dog that needed to be put down, and that was exactly what Spinel planned on doing.

Spinel walked beside the frail man and punched him hard across the face. The man fell to the ground and looked up amd the white and blue Karasu that stood before him with a look of pure fear.

"O-oh no." The man said in a shaky and raspy voice, as if he feared for his life. 

"Oh yes, yes indeed." Spinel said to him. He then looked around his soon to be victim amd saw a glass bottle a quatter way full of whiskey that had fallen from the mans pocket. "Tsk tsk, drinking is such a disgusting practice." He said with a toothy smile. 

As the man struggled for words, the bottle began crack and break into shards about an inch long. Glass manipulation was one of Spinels powers, along with chain manipulation. Chains began to materialize on the ground as the man began to stand up. 

Once the man was up he began to wearily run away. He only got a few feet away when one of the chains shot at the man and wrapped itself around his leg, thus tripping the man. He hollered in pain for he had landed bad and had broken his wrist. Though that was nothing compared to what was about to happen to the poor man. 

"Now now, I can't have my dinner running away now can I?" Spinel said with a lot of satisfaction in his voice. The shards of glass from the bottle had floated over to Spinel and the man who now had all of his limbs bound. "Let the fun begin."

The shards of glass had shot over to the man, one shard went under each fingernail and slid into his skin, a few went into his eyes, not far enough to kill but far enough to hurt, a lot. And the rest just cut his skin to ribbons. The ones under his nails slid up into his fingers, then through his hands, and then up to his wrists where they slit up his forearms where the veins were. 

The man had been screaming in agony as he was cut amd stabbed. He began bleeding out from the cuts on his forearms. And as he was about to die, the chains lifted him up and ripped each limb off one at a time. He was alive just long enough for Spinel to take his first bite before he died. 

Spinel then took the mans remains back to his home. He would butcher the body and make a meal of him later on. He put the remains in a freezer. 

Spinel then walked around the under city, doing nothing in particular. He didn't mind that the whole place made a detroit ghetto look like Beverly Hills. It just meant that no one would care if people died down here. So he just walked around, he was thinking about killing again later, but not then. Just a pleasant stroll.