A man shackled by the thirst of revenge, met his end at the hands of a Serial Killer. From deaths embrace, he set foot in the Valley shadows where a demon resurrect him. Granted with by the blessing of the Old Man of the Mountain, his one-sided crus...
I actually wanted to write this as RWBY fanfic, till I realize that my knowledge of the show only extends to fanfiction. And I hate writing AU, writing my own shit completely outside the cannon of the show. So I choose to write this in a original world, this world is inspired by slasher and thriller films -- like Jason, Michael, Freddy, and Texas chainsaw. So expect a lot of gore.
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He looks like a much younger punisher.
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A man laid on the concrete ground, with his blood flowing out into the outside. A huge wound, from the looks of it, a fatal one – his stomach was cut open with an extremely sharp object as there seemed to be no resistance at all from the skin.
Miraculously, or unfortunately, the man is still somehow breathing, with his eyes threatening to close any moment and has the glint of pain. Slow and hard breathing, as his chest desperately inhales air to support the failing body of his.
Though. No matter what is done, he will die, even if help were to come and find him the slash is severe enough that no stitching nor any closing will remedy it. And the liters of blood spurting and the open cut will kill him even if they somehow did close itt.
The man's eyes, of course, inevitably fall down and close. And the slow – yet desperate – moving of his and the guttural sound of struggling breathing is slowly snuffed out by the grasping of death. A slow and painful death, his fate is.
A sad one where he dies, in the putrid corner of a rundown building housing a despicable killer.
There he lies, a man playing hero. Where he could not stand still at the atrocities being committed in front of him.
A painful end, but not special.
However of course, his story does not end here.
...
...
...
"A committed and determined fool, walks upon the valley,"
A voice that does not belong to a normal man, expressed interest at the intrusion of the dying man. Looking upon the feeble mortal with his cold and steel-blue gaze, the being analyze the man, measuring him from top to bottom.
"Thy life is committed to stopping evil," The demon with a skull mask said, "Yet such a virtuous path was only rewarded by pain."
"Tell me 'ahmaq, does thee view thy life unfair?"
The man didn't reply, too engrossed at his confusion at the new surroundings, and too fearful of the being he views as demonic. For the figure was overbearing, an opposing figure of dark penetrated only by the ethereal blue of the demon's gaze, a sword implanted on the ground, that carries a deathly aura.
