Post by Lunatic on Aug 2, 2014 23:02:08 GMT
It was dark. It was always dark. Or that's how it felt to the man that ran. Footsteps, in the shadows, running down back alleys, trying to stay ahead. A prey animal, chased, alone. Haunted by a demon. High above the first drops of rain started to fall. High above, the masked monster sighed softly behind his disguise. He hated the rain.
Turning down an alley, sharply, gasping, the running man continued. So dark. No street lights down here, no moon, no stars. Just the drab grey of the city at night, just the spark of blue high above. He had to escape it, he had to. Crying out. Tripping. What was it? A cat? A piece of trash? A tramp? No. He had no time to think. Only to run.
Darkness.
Suddenly light.
He screamed.
Fire raced down the alleyway, coiling and snatching like the hands of a giant, green-blue flames as the jaws of a dragon closing around his legs, around his filthy trainers that had tried so hard to carry him away. Tendrils of fire, twisting, compressing and burning. Raindrops hissing and spitting as they touched the burning clothes.
Burning skin.
Burning hair.
The vigilante landed without a sound in the alleyway having dropped off the roof. The man still screamed. He sauntered closer, his crossbow dropped lazily to his side, his steps ambling and without a care.
"You have been judged... And Thanatos has found you unworthy..." His words carried conviction. Fire blazed from his eyes. But the running man couldn't hear anything. Not any more. The roaring subsided, the fire died. Somewhere behind Lunatic, a cat disappeared into the darkness. He moved to the ashen remains, not a single drop of sympathy running through his veins. Not a single drop. He twitching, head tilting to the side like a ragdoll.
Then. A noise.
He turned sharply, though the crossbow hanging by his leg did not snap up.
"Who is it?" He called faintly into the darkness, unmoving and uncaring at who might just have appeared.
Turning down an alley, sharply, gasping, the running man continued. So dark. No street lights down here, no moon, no stars. Just the drab grey of the city at night, just the spark of blue high above. He had to escape it, he had to. Crying out. Tripping. What was it? A cat? A piece of trash? A tramp? No. He had no time to think. Only to run.
Darkness.
Suddenly light.
He screamed.
Fire raced down the alleyway, coiling and snatching like the hands of a giant, green-blue flames as the jaws of a dragon closing around his legs, around his filthy trainers that had tried so hard to carry him away. Tendrils of fire, twisting, compressing and burning. Raindrops hissing and spitting as they touched the burning clothes.
Burning skin.
Burning hair.
The vigilante landed without a sound in the alleyway having dropped off the roof. The man still screamed. He sauntered closer, his crossbow dropped lazily to his side, his steps ambling and without a care.
"You have been judged... And Thanatos has found you unworthy..." His words carried conviction. Fire blazed from his eyes. But the running man couldn't hear anything. Not any more. The roaring subsided, the fire died. Somewhere behind Lunatic, a cat disappeared into the darkness. He moved to the ashen remains, not a single drop of sympathy running through his veins. Not a single drop. He twitching, head tilting to the side like a ragdoll.
Then. A noise.
He turned sharply, though the crossbow hanging by his leg did not snap up.
"Who is it?" He called faintly into the darkness, unmoving and uncaring at who might just have appeared.