vormitternacht :
As always, Midnighter wandered the streets, looking for something to kill his boredom. The Carrier, the shiftship where he lived, sometimes suffocated him, and he needed some action outside that place. He would choose a random place in the world map to go, where he expected to find some fun. And by fun, he thought of killing, torturing, coercing criminals.
But, it wasn’t so easy to find enemies who could entertain him. Most of them died with a simple punch, and he had to get creative with their deaths. For instance, instead of a gun and his fist, he would use a rock to smash the person’s skull until their brains spilled out of their heads. Or maybe, he would tear their arms and legs with a blunt, rusted knife.
Because the common methods were too boring for his taste.
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard an alarm, not too far away from where he was. With it, a loud thump. He decided to follow his instincts, and go to the place, not even thinking twice. When he reached the local, a surprise: a red-haired woman and a beast, howling because a several wound in his neck.
By the logic, she was the good guy while the beast was the enemy. Grinning, he ran towards the monster, hitting his fist into his palm. “Now, that’s something I’m looking for!” He jumped fast on the beast’s back, and he shoved his hand into the wound in his neck, tearing all the arteries and veins he could grab.
The warrioress would plunge her sword into the metallic apparatus, causing the alarm to distort before subsiding altogether. What a vile and ungodly contraption...
Thrusting her blade into the asphalt beneath her, she would use it to support her weight before rising once more. Shortly afterwards, an individual clad in leather dark as obsidian would, quite literally, jump into the fray. He mounted the beast before digging into the wound that she had inflicted upon the demon, savagely tearing out its jugulars with his bare hands.
The demon would holler, desperately trying to shake the man off of its back but to no avail. It would collapse from exhaustion and blood loss, releasing one final cry before death took it. Retrieving her sword and sheathing her dagger, the crimson haired woman would make her way towards the nameless man, her chainmail chiming with each step before her lips pursed for speech.
“You vaguely remind me of a certain Cimmerian,” She commented, something akin to a compliment. “However, you must remain vigilant, stranger. These beasts scarcely travel alone. The pack should be closeby,” She would caution, poised for the impending assault.
