A lone man dressed with a simple brown, leather coat stands in an empty street in front of rioting thugs ,who are stealing and hoarding expensive items from nearby stores. His scythe glints from the sun's light, exposing the dried blood from last night's mission to bust a human trafficking ring.
The city had been evacuated from the warning sirens declaring the area dangerous due to the arrival of the S-Rank villain, Juggernaut, and the low-level thugs are taking advantage of the lack of civilians to commit petty robbery, breaking in expensive stores and stealing money and other expensive items.
Stepping up to meet the gaze of the soon to be dead thugs, Therion supposed that while he was disposed to eliminate the S-Rank villain, he might as well take advantage and take out with him some of the low-levels along the way.
[x]
A rusted scythe, faintly red, cuts through the air.
The flutter of a leather coat, dirt and grime sticking to the ends.
'Leave no witnesses.'
Blood flies through the air, and not a second later, the bowels of three slaughtered men follow by.
A flick of the wrist, and the warm, still fresh blood leaves the scythe.
The rest of the soon-to-be dead corpses take a step back, their primal instinct telling them to run, cower, or beg for mercy.
'No survivors.'
A blur of the scythe, courtesy of Therion, and a corpse join the other three dead bodies resting by the black trash bags, ready to be collected and quietly disposed of whenever.
Therion swings his blood-rusted scythe, stopping it with inhuman precision just before it connects to the throat of the last survivor.
He doesn't know why he stopped the scythe, he could've let it through the neck, severing it as easy as a heated knife does to butter, but he does it nonetheless.
Grey, emotionless eyes, meet scared, vibrant blues.
Therion hesitates, because he can see it in the thug's eyes.
He probably has a loved one who's waiting for him back at home, heck, he's probably only stealing to provide for his family and yet-
A memory flashes inside his mind.
'Eliminate, exterminate, do what you must, Therion. But there cannot be a survivor, no witnesses. Do you understand?'
'Yes, father.'
Therion opens his mouth to say something, he doesn't know what he even wants to say, but the thug beats him to it nonetheless.
"P-Please—"
The scythe swings, and fresh blood splatters on the ground.
Therion breathes shakily, shaking off the memory of a woman kneeling on the ground, begging to be spared, claiming she had a nine-year-old daughter to care for, only for a scythe to sever her head.
You shouldn't let villains talk.
The mission is partially done, all that remains to take out is Juggernaut.