THUMP!
What goes around comes around. No matter who you are, no matter how clean you believe your slate might be, the past always has a way of returning to haunt those with skeletons in their closets. Sometimes, all it took was to be associated to the wrong people at the wrong time.
Thousands of years in history can make a difference in one’s life, whether in the near or the distant future. Lies become truths. Blessings become curses. Grudges become... something beyond personal.
CRASH!
Something or someone tore through the frail foundations of this building, taking apart one of the most fragile walls in two fell swings, like ripping through wet papier-maché with one’s bare hands. Its strength truly shone as being every bit as monstrous as its silhouette. Heavy footsteps, accented with the quiet foley of cloth and metallic armor, made away with the eerie silence that once filled the spacious abode.
With breaths just as heavy and deep as the steps it took, the terrifying figure of something more than a simple man let itself become known to anyone paying even a hint of attention.
Though his presence here is not unwarranted. Victims. Those who submit to a stronger will. They leave all a manner of tracks, imperceptible to most, yet not to those who know how to find them. He couldn’t smell fear within his prey this time. Not without some sickening sense of smug contempt overruling it, the natural human instinct of fearing death becoming shrouded in a flimsy wall of false bravado.
He knows this one. And this one... this one knows him.
|| @brcakout