Fucking Jinxed It

Well, I asked for a fight, and that's just what I got.  The roof where I was intending to spend last night ended up being a bit more exciting than I'd planned. Somebody (probably fucking Fracture, the son of a bitch) had set a group of hollowed to attack me. Why, I'm not certain. You'd have to be completely fucking retarded to think five empty shells could possibly take me down. They went down easy, and I was already on the fire escape when the skinny fucker showed up to smack me around again. Didn't waste any time, just smacked me right off the fourth floor fire escape.

I was pretty sure I was going to die when I hit the ground. It felt like a long fucking time, too. Way longer than four floors should have lasted. It was like.. fucking Alice in Wonderland bullshit, where the bitch is falling down the rabbit hole. Except that instead of falling into a room with a teeny fucking door, I fell into some guy's arms.

I punched him out, squirmed out of his arms, and pulled a knife. He had a bouquet in his hands, he must be the motherfucker who's been leaving them for me. This time instead of roses, it was... some weird looking white flowers. Lilies, I think they're called. The scent of them was too strong, it filled the alley and made me want to throw up.

For one heartstopping moment I thought it was Writer. Certainly looked like him. The same crazy too-red hair, the same pale skin, the same too-wide smile, and with the scent of the lilies filling the alleyway it even smelled like his stupid fucking perfume.

But his eyes... Writer's were cartoonishly bright and inquisitive, whereas this motherfucker's were just... black. And not even just black. Like falling into a pit just by looking at him. I might've stared at them for hours in shock if he hadn't started laughing at me, that same laugh I'd heard too many times from our old handler when he was about to fuck us in the ass.

His voice was just like Writer's, too. "It's good to finally meet you."

I glared at him and got ready to attack. "What the fuck do you want?"

The motherfucker just laughed again at my attempts to look threatening. "I just wanted to give you a new bouquet. Did you not like the roses?"

"FUCK YOUR ROSES. I want you gone. Permanently."

"That's just not happening, mon chere." Fuck, he even uses French like Writer. What the hell is this guy's deal? "Take your bouquet, and I'll be on my way."

He handed it to me rather too forcefully and walked away. I threw a throwing knife and took him down... too easily. I checked him out, he's definitely dead, but I don't expect that to be the end of it. Who the hell IS this guy?