❛❛ This is my game. The loser gives away his life, yet believe me when I say, I never lose. ❜❜
When the mirror shows weaknesses, it's time for the Shadow Men to play the Game of Blood.
A game made for no one to defeat it, but that wouldn't stop them...
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Footsteps echoed through the alleys of what people called "the village". The moonlight contrasted with the pitch black sky and shone on the figures dressed in black. The way he stood there alone gave everyone nightmares.
The few who were still awake closed their windows quickly in fear that one of the shadows would see them. The sound of the wooden flaps echoed in union. His steps slowed as he approached the end of the empty, paved path. The silver details on his heavy black outfit rustled with every step, but the crying of a child drowned it out.
A girl layed in the shadows, leaning against a wall. Her face was stained with dirt, her hair blond and uncombed, tears rolled down her dry skin. She looked up at him and he stopped when he felt her look at him. He felt no pity for the girl. He hardly felt anything anymore after all those years.
Slowly she pulled herself out of the shadow of the house and coughed. The man pulled his scarf over the lower half of his face and looked at her with disgust. Her eyes were blue and the tears streaming down her cheeks reflected the moonlight. He heard a shot in the distance, the bang did not make the girl flinch. She crawled further forward, her legs seemed to be broken, for she pulled herself with her arms that carried traces of the rough path.
She whimpered and clung to his leg, black blood dropped from her wounds. He raised one eyebrow when he noticed this.
Behind him were several of these men, there were four of them. Dreaded, armed men with cold hearts and a brutality you would not wish upon your worst enemy, but these four were not nearly as cold-blooded and brutal as the one the child had clung to. One of them looked the one walking in front in the eye and reached for his gun, but he just raised his hand and signalled not to shoot.
He shook his leg in the hope that she would just let go, but the girl just started to cry even more. No matter how much he shook his leg, she wouldn't let go and just cried more. He sighed annoyed and rolled his eyes to the side, he wanted to pull his dagger, but then the girl screamed out. A scream with a deeper voice than he had ever heard, painful in the ears for others. But he did not flinch.
She looked into his eyes, an angry expression on her face as her face split in two and the halves of her face fell to the side and her body dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
The sound was so disgusting that one of the men thought he was about to throw up. Around his leg now hung only a black, sticky figure. It had no face and no arms. It was like a viscous substance.
He still looked disgusted and in one quick movement pulled a gun from his back. Without hesitation he aimed at the creature on his leg and pressed the trigger, whose sound echoed like everything else. Huge flames streamed out of the device and hit the creature and his leg directly. It smelled of decay and burnt flesh. He felt the flames slowly burning his skin and forming ugly wounds.
The creature shrieked, but this time the shrieking was an extremely high-pitched sound, it hurt their ears and broke the glass jars they carried with them. The creature fell from his leg onto the paved road and writhed. The man let go of the trigger and reattached the device to his back. He watched the creature burn to ashes. When the creature had finally burnt to ashes, he pulled his mask down a little and put out the remaining flames.
Shortly he looked to his leg, where the burn was already healing. He waited until his leg was back in its normal condition and made a "tch" sound when he noticed that a part of his pants was burned away.
He looked up to see a few of the villagers peeking out of the windows. They bowed politely as they made eye contact with him, didn't even dare to look him in the eyes.
Only now did he look at the others again, the other four men had already moved on. One of them turned around and indicated with his hand that they would not stop.
