A screech of fury echoes off the walls of the underground cavern as the man swipes his arm across his desk. All that time persuading, bribing, manipulating, wasted because of that uppity cat-eared b*tch of a Goddess. His inner tirade stops as he contemplates whether you can really call a cat a b*tch since that's the name given to a female dog.
Righting the chair he'd flung earlier, he takes a seat and rests his chin in his hands, ordering his thoughts. Though the head of the human trafficking has been taken out, it doesn't mean that all is lost.
That plan had only been for sport anyway.
The real progress is in the Nightshade. With its ability to render humans thoughtless or dead, it still serves its purpose of limiting Will. The less Will in the world, the easier it is to f*ck up.
Jaggedly sharp teeth show as his mouth splits into a smile, a black wave of evil filling the chamber.
'They are only postponing the inevitable. Soon this world will end as it should have fifty years ago...'