The water of the fall raged on, its fire-like color creating a beautiful and almost terrifying sight.
Darius stood in the pool of water, the level reaching all the way to his knees.
With another shaky breath, Darius held the sword horizontally. Using his left hand, he held the sword's sharp blade, while his right hand held the hilt.
Slowly, he glided his left hand along the length of the sword. The sharp blade bit through his skin, crimson blood sipping through as the wound grew.
Without a warning, the pain intensified. The muscles of his hand started cramping, forcing Darius to remove his left hand from the sword and bald it into a fist.
"Fuck!" he cursed, he never thought it hurt this bad.
The feeling was like, something was entering his veins. Like a million worms are simultaneously crawling inside his hand as they chew on his flesh.
