"You've got some nerve trying to escape my throne hall," Hisha growls menacingly.
Mentally shaking himself free of the shock caused by being locked in, Amon quickly regains control over his emotions.
"It wasn't like that-"
Before he finishes speaking, Hisha raises his hand and slashes through the air cutting short whatever excuse Amon had prepared.
Gasping for breath, Amon drops to his knees gasping for oxygen. He looks down at his chest where crimson-red liquid drizzles freely soaking his shirt. Blood seeps between his fingers, staining them black.
Looking up at Hisha, he sees anger written clearly on his lord's face.
Vanas glares coldly at Amon as he whispers. "You made a mistake coming here, Amon."
There was nothing more satisfying than watching him fall apart completely helpless by the very person he sought out help from.
"My lord, there's... something... you..."
Bam!
Vanas cuts off his sentence with a kick to Amon's face, interrupting him mid-sentence.
