Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Nov 21, 2019 7:42:24 GMT -8
He sat atop the demon's carcass and allowed his aching muscles some much needed reprieve. The burning embers of his cigarette glowed a soft orange, the same soft orange as the color of the sky as the sun set on the far off horizon of the west. It dipped below the frosted peaks of distant mountains shrouded in thick, unyielding mists.
Cress cracked the corner of his mouth and exhaled a plume of smoke, tendrils curling to rise and dissipate in the air above him. Purple blood oozed from the gaping wound in the demon's chest where his katchin-infused katana remain lodged in its heart, right where Cress had pierced the bastard between his ribs. Only the whites of its eyes were visible as a long slimy tongue lolled out the side of its open mouth.
This was about as peaceful as travel would get for him. He didn't mind. Life or death struggle was all he had ever known, and he had stalked this earth for a century and a half. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Doesn't get any better than this... nope." His deep tenor was quiet, lost amid the dry grasses of the wide field. In the distance, he could see dark forms moving in his direction.
"Would ya look at that?" He cracked a smirk. "Looks like your buddies wanna come play too." He patted the dead creature before standing and wiping his blood smeared hands against his dirt-streaked shirt. "Hope you bastards taste better than you smell."
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