Silence filled the atmosphere. The street lights flicker as I wait for him to attack. The kid move's around me, watching me for a moment before he flicks his wrist.
* Woosh! *
"!! ,"
I duck as the ink pole misses my head and flies towards the kid's hand. He point's at me and dash. Seeing the tilt sharpen's to a blade.
* Thrust! *
Avoiding the blade and slap the pole to bounce it back. Another blade form's at the end hilt as I evade. Block another strike as he continues swings the spear multiple times.
I couldn't deflect them all so I slip a strike. Capture one blade and push it back.
* Crack! *
The blade fling's to the air. But he pulls the other bladed tilt to my chin. Stepping aside but I noticed the blade curl and extend towards my head.
* Slice *
Moving my head back. The scythe reaches my neck, only making one slight cut as I retreat, but he hurls the scythe at the wall.
* Thud! *
The scythe bounces toward's me. Jumping back as the scythe miss, hitting the ground and bouncing back towards the kid as he dash. Swinging the scythe, I dodge the blade, but another scythe forms and cuts through my fur as he continues swinging them.
* Slash Slice Slash Cut! *
' Fuck fuck fuck! '
The scythes are fast, and there's no any room for me to retreat.
My heart beat to every cut of my fur, very close call, and every inch of the blade on my skin that I couldn't even think of anything other than to avoid the scythe until.
* Splat! *
The scythe pierce my shoulder.
" Agh! ,"
* Thrust- Grip! *
I grab the rough edges of the scythe and hold it tight. Preventing it to dig any deeper, but the scythe turns into ink and wraps itself around me. Binding my arms and legs as he kicks me away.
* Kick! *
* Thumbling.... Thud. *
" Ugh.... Puta Madre.... ,"
* Step! *
' Fuck! '
" Ah~ what's wrong, tired? Well, this is what you get. You mess with my boys and you mess with the whole red bull gang ,"
* Kick! *
" Cough! "
My mind is getting numb.
Each kick.... Each pain.... It all feels.... Familiar....
* Kick! *
The screams.
* Kick! *
The meat.
* Kick! *
This disgusting dark room...
* Kick! *
And that no-good son of a bitch.
* Kick! *
He stops. Bringing myself back to the street. Sigh.... Well, I guess it's been a while since I was ever this vulnerable.
" Huff.... Huff.... ,"
* Grip! *
" Ngh! ,"
" So how's it feel, bitch? Hurts right? Well, I ain't done. I'm going to skin your face, gauge your eyes and then rip your head off to show off just how much of a pussy you are. "
* Shing- Stab! *
"AGH!"
* Rip *
The cold ink blade peels through my face. I try to think of something fast, but my loose fang just keeps annoying me to shit.
I can't think. The pain is. unbearable and this loose fang just makes it worse!
Until....
It hit me.
" WAIT! C-could I at least say my last words? "
" Pfft! Hahaha! You? Last words? Heh, do you really think I would give a shit about that? "
* Thrust! *
" FUCK!!! "
" Look. Watching you in pain as I slowly torture you to death is my greatest joy~ Nothing you say will make this a hundred times better. So how about you give up and let me- "
* Crack! *
I yank my loose fang and shoot it at this psycho's eye. Obliterating it as the sound of clanking metal burst out of his helmet.
" .... "
* Thud *
He fell. His armor, the knife and this ink quickly melt's to the ground. Free, I stare down at him. Noticing my loose fang right behind his head. All covered with ink and blood.
" Phew.... Finally it's over.... "
I pocket my loose fang. Rip his hand and chew on its flesh. Slowly recovering myself.
I didn't fully recover, but it's enough. I whip out my garbage bag, bagged the psycho before moving on to the bagged corpses that I left.
* Lift *
* Growl.... *
' Not in the mood to talk '
Ignoring my stomach, I put the seven garbage bags on my back and leave. Maneuvering through the alley and quickly arriving at the garage.
* Click! *
Sigh.... This hunt shit.... No puedo esperar a irme a dormir después de esto.
* Crea- *
Entering the garage and closing the gate. I put the garbage bag aside, cover the windows, take off my clothes, place my butcher papers in front of the TV and begin butchering the corpses.
* Splat! *
* Rip! *
Once I prepare the meat, I walk to a piece of fabric, clean my blood-stained hands, and then move to the TV to switch it on.
* Click click *
I didn't bother with the news as I kept changing channels. Eventually switching it to a comedy movie as I sit at the back, relax and eat.