Section 1
. . .
The Splitter had sneaked up on them.
He was behind them, standing approximately three meters, which meant he was in the middle of the road. The sound of thin wires uncoiling could also be heard.
The three of them turned around to face their foe, and saw him.
He was shorter than any of them expected, barely hitting 5'7, along with pitch black hair that was rather short, although not buzz cut. He wore dark jeans with his thumbs placed in his pockets, yet the shirt was what they focused on most.
He wore a rather innocent looking white shirt, except two words bolded in huge, black, and bloody words:
"KILL YOU"
"Oh, like my shirt? Picked this up at a pawn shop a few weeks back. Quite the steal if you ask me," the man said, puffing his shirt about a bit while grinning smugly. He had the 'shiteating' grin associated with plenty of other people.
"Introductions, I do believe, are in order. You can call me Zaric, or The Wireframe if you like addressing people by their hilariously shit titles," Zaric said, bowing a bit in mockery whilst simultaneously sounding pompous and intelligent at the same time.
(I believe the technical term is 'smart douche')
"Now, have thouest any questions?"
"Yeah, why is your shirt so tacky," Al said, seemingly forgoing remembering the gravity of the situation. Al has never had a tendency to appear worried or self-conscious during a fight, and usually ruins any sort of tension with some of his remarks.
"I suppose you volunteer as tribute?" Zaric suddenly waved his hand as a large cut became visible upon Al's cheek. He tensed a bit at the sudden appearance of a cut.
To say he was confused was quite the understatement.
"The . . . hell?"
"I bet you didn't catch that. Here, lemme just," Zaric said, flicking his finger again.
A thin wire, barely visible, appeared in front of Al's left eye. It was poised to strike as if a snake directly into his eye.
"I could push that in and just, give you a quick lobotomy, but I'll refrain. Wouldn't want to ruin the fun by making you a retard anyways."
The wire vanished, and retracted back into Zaric's finger.
"Have you been the one committing all these murders?" Cyri spoke up suddenly, placing a step forward. She had the mixed appearance of being both disgusted (a probable continuation of the scene she had just witnessed) and anger.
The fact Zaric took murder so lightly pissed her the hell off.
"No shit, Sherlock. I dunno anybody else with something thin enough to get a cut that clean."
"Why you little. . . ."
"Little what exactly, hmm? Little maggot worth less than the pavement he graciously stands upon?" Zaric said, stomping his foot on the pavement as he spoke, along with delivering awkward mannerisms at every turn.
"You'll pay for your needless slaughter," Cyri said, causing water vapor in the air to condense and slow down, forming ice spikes and shards.
"Oh? A cryo? Never fought one of those before, so let's see what happens."
Section 2.
YOU ARE READING
THE ESPERATIUS: VOLUME 1
Science FictionIn the year 2071, earth has changed drastically. The great nations of the world are no longer as great as they once were. The United States, Russia, China: all have fallen low. Only their greatest cities survive mainly as nation states more than any...