With a graceful stride, he moved towards a corner of the room where an array of weapons hung, his movements fluid and precise. My eyes darted nervously between him and the weapons, my mind racing with the possibilities of what he might do next.
"Ah, you've noticed my little collection," he remarked, his voice smooth like silk but carrying an underlying edge of danger. "Impressive, isn't it?"
I swallowed hard, unable to tear my gaze away from the lethal instruments that adorned the walls. "What... what do you plan to do with all these weapons?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that," he replied cryptically, his fingers tracing the outline of a gleaming sword hanging nearby. "You see, each of these beauties has its own purpose, its own story to tell."
