opinions, anyone?

[izkariote]

I just wrote out this bit for Chapter 35 of Endtimes and I'm rather proud of it... here we go.

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2:18 in the afternoon. Arcis City, The Tanuka Sector.

Clever got me this far then tricky got me in

Eye on what I'm after - I don't need another friend

Smile and drop the cliché until you think I’m listening

I take just what I came for then I’m out the door again…

Rethe moved through the old building in perfect silence, his movements refined to smallest detail and the sharpest blade of expectations with nothing wasted and everything executed with careless grace. He drifted past broken glass and rotten wood frames, passing in and out of streams of sunlight full of dust motes that winked in and out to the observant eye like the daytime’s version of fireflies or stars. Even though all the blue-eyed hunter’s senses and every will-o-the-wisp in the area was attuned to smoking out the rats that Miriam had sent him off to exterminate, his lips moved to form the words to the lyrics of the song he was listening to on his CD Player at that moment.

Midway through the post-Black Christmas ruin, a will-o-the-wisp faded into existence and drifted near Rethe’s face, leaving the taste of singed innocence on his lips; with it, one of the young Peshmerga’s guns was already out and trained towards the trash cans to his left before they had even been jostled and knocked over. He shot the dog that emerged before it even had the chance to yelp, knowing that it wasn’t really a dog and that he was no longer alone.

Over the lyrics full of muted desperation and it accompanying eerily quiet guitar work that filtered through his earphones, Rethe pulled out his other gun and opened fire upon a patch of air before him that suddenly shimmered and shifted like a heat wave; where normal bullets would have glanced off, the Sacreds pierced through the planes of reality and instinctual spell weaving, hitting his unseen opponent and drawing its fair share in otherworldly screams. By the time the shroud of invisibility melted away to reveal the wounded beast beneath, one gun was back in its holster, replaced with a wickedly fashioned knife that glowed under the Peshmerga’s fingers.

A stab to the head was what ended it; the final shriek ended in a sickening gurgle, and black, brackish blood showered into the air, scattering the dust motes that danced in the frayed sunbeams filtering in from the shattered windows. Rethe stepped away from the Daemon as it fell, dead before it even hit the ground. He hadn’t expected to feel that good about using a mage-slaying dagger. The spirits hadn’t been receptive to it after all.

Will-o-the-wisps around him again, prettier than dust motes and more brilliant than several hundred mini rainbows. They were hungry, and he was only way by which they could taste the sweetness of life again. Years ago, Rethe had denied them. At present, he acknowledged their need and turned it into his wanting.

He raised the knife — coated in a monster’s blood — to his lips.

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...And there you have it, folks.

C&C, please?

Comments

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[khursten.livejournal.com]

RETHE~~~DAISUKI~~!! Is this chapter finished~?

Re: *___*

[izkariote.livejournal.com]

Sorry, not yet. ;^_^ I'm 7 pages into it, actually!