An Eminence? No, I am just a reaper (OC story)

A butchers bulevard 2

Speech = ''...''
Thoughts = [... ]

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....Fear not the monsters of old, fear not the valiant heroes carrying weapons from ancient times. Fear those who have nothing left to lose, but all to gain...

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He didn't know how much time had passed, it was hard to tell when everything was a blur of fire and blood at every turn...

The screams, the smell of rust...it was everywhere.

Sometimes the reality he was passing through split, folding in and throwing him into mirages of his memories even if he was awake. The pathetic excuses of cultists replaced by demonic entities, the buildings around him nothing more than incandescent ruins

But he was not swayed by this flawed reality as he moved forward.

Not needing to trust his eyes to full fill what needed to be done as he tore from illusion to reality between flashes of fire and gurgling screams of his victims. Their bodies flying through the air, sprays of fresh blood splashing against walls and ground....

Adding to that with the still roaring rainstorm the ground had become nothing but a flood of red and dirt mess...

He had attacked everywhere and anyone who shared their smell..., like a starving wolf that had made its way into a sheepfold without the shepherd being present to halt him.

Shops, restaurants, libraries..., warehouses and many more locations. None of them were save from his grasp, none should be spared from their punishment. Each kill growing more brutal than the other as each soul added to the rest granted a new and more repugnant set of confirmations of who they were..

They screamed, either in defiance or terror as he lunged at them...but he could barely made heads of it.

There was a simple, though crude beauty to sense the way their bodies broke like twigs than to have to hear them waste their breath.

The way bones splintered before they were sliced with a clean cut, how the vessels ruptured within themselves before the blood pressure pushed their red, sticky liquid out like fountains in slow motion as their eyes that had been dulled widened both in terror and shock as they realized they were to realize their own demise.

Yes, it was rather amusing....but, he was not lost to the hunt.

Ironically he had been faced with a new foe that he had not taken into consideration the moment he started to plunge into the cultists ranks and walk out knee deep in bodies.

A foe that no matter how the chains of his arm wrestled for control and dug deep into his limb he could not fight. He would not fight...

A stampede....

Not of animals, or foul beast made for war and terror..., no.., it was something far more simple and yet so much worse.

Monkeys...

A stampede of hairless, brain dead monkeys that made for the civilian populace of the kingdom, shrieking and running away...

Sometimes it was such their confusion that they were moving in circles, unable to tell where they were going. Falling in a strange loop of disorientation and stupidity....

He had scoffed back then at the unwanted expectable they had showed, annoyed and completely dumbfounded at how pathetic they were behaving.

Was there not any iron within their blood..? Were they so weak and dependant of their saviours that they could not lift a damn finger to either protect what was their and protect their lives?