And they say he was the worst, humans are no different when it came to murder and torture, he was just a mild case for such brutal display. Never shying away from when he wanted, his intention were on point, and quite the entertainment. Too bad, everyone of these filth are going to die tonight, except for the brave soul who spoke out, might traumatize them, but who gives a shit? Since when the hell did he ever cared for human’s mentality? “Good boy.” a low chuckle, he’s leaning into their space, carelessness the cheeks, and whispering into their ears, “Y’re so good, might even take y’around when I kill people, tha’ would be excitin’, no?”
An attention display of fake affection, while patting their cheeks. The shadow reappeared in front of the woman who looks up at him in disgust and fear, trembling with fat sob of tears stream down her face. Such an ugly thing. With no further distraction, he held between his hand a knife, one could mistake it as a butter knife. “This is for y’Mild. I hope y’enjoy my lil’ show.”
The knife plunged into the skin, her scream of anguish echoed into the night sky, shaking her head, but the shadow didn’t stopped there, it went on for a good few minutes and the only thing left of her was the hanging of her skin. Skinned open from head to toe, muscle held on, what is left of her. She’s choking on blood, eyes rolled back and dies from the agony of too much pain she had to endure.
A tsk, the creature shake it’s head, disappointed, “I hope yer next one wouldn’t be so fukin’ easy.”
How wretched was their lot in life to have been graced by a creature as horrible as this, pointlessly cruel and delighting far too much in the act of bloodshed. But just as the woman was helpless, Mild felt similarly forced into such a position, never the type to even attempt to play hero, certainly not in a situation as hopeless as this. First he had lost parts of himself in a game, the very concept bizarre and outlandish despite it being labelled as the work of a demon. Now to face this, a rude awakening that indeed humans weren’t alone, that they were very mortal, was shattering already-marred psyche.
Each crack in the facade of his sanity was struck like gradually-breaking glass, punctuated by each scream the woman emitted, by each slash of blade that separated skin from muscle. He wanted to look away, he did. But all he could do was steel his gaze, distantly observing the scene like some third party, senses becoming dulled as if he might be simply dreaming. It was a nasty dream, but it was the most he could manage to cope, right up until he heard sniggering by his ear, breath blown against the shell, making him jolt and look over his shoulder. No one was there, but their voice was, encouraging him to perhaps throw himself on the blade, to run, to do something other than kill another person so unceremoniously.
It was over after what felt like sixty horrifying minutes.
“When… when do you plan to end this? They’re getting bored, I think.” Voice was just as shaky as his body, but the delivery of his tone revealed just how numb and distant he truly had become, dissociated even now as if acting on autopilot. “They’re wanting to leave.”
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