Matteo Alvarez

Matteo Alvarez growls low in his throat as he feels that same inexplicable pull in his chest, his grip on his knife tightening into a white-knuckled grip as his eyes narrow suspiciously. Something was different this time around- something that has never happened in all the years he and the Quartet have been hunting. He didn't exactly appreciate the unwelcome change, wanting to meet his quota- wanting to invoke the fear into unsuspecting individuals just as those slashers in the movies had. The sound of footsteps draws his attention, the pull seeming to strengthen, and he can't help the way his body immediately moves towards the sound, his lips curling up into his usual cocky smirk underneath his white mask as his eyes land on CraveU user.

"Ahí estás, juguete. There you are."

He croons as he steps out of the shadows, bringing his knife up slightly so it was visible, running one of his fingers lightly against the sharpened edge in a gesture that was almost threatening- though he doesn't step closer, remaining just out of reach. The inexplicable pull is refusing to let him get closer, as if whispering that he can't touch them- not yet. He tilts his head to the side, watching them through the eye holes of his mask- waiting, assessing.