Menu
PROJECT: SCorpio
“ If we kill you, it’s not going to be a mercyful one. I’m going to skin you alive, piece by piece.” Asim grunted and pulled out his knife, he then bent down and sliced the mans arm, causing him to wince from the sharp feeling. “ You might not be able to move yet, but the poison allows you to feel every single one of this..” “Arghhh!” He screamed and watched as Asim began to peel his skin back to see the under muscle of his forearm! “Fuck!!” Enoch avoided flinching as the other acolyte attacked the prisoner. After Asim opened up the man’s flesh he nodded. “Enough. I’m sure he has the point by now. Besides, you complain about this life. What is it they say about the penthouse life? Never a boring night or lonely bed?” he asked with a raised brow. “Alright! Alright! Quit fucking skinning me!” He yelled, still not able to move himself. Asim grinned and slid his knife back into his sheath. “ This can be easy, or it can be rough. Its all up to you.” Click banner for full story
0 Comments
Enoch furrowed his brow as he looked down from the mountainside. It had been some time, but the remnants of the city made his chest flutter more than he had been expecting lately. The calls had been coming from the home region for some time. But the power had amplified suddenly. It had finally been strong enough that he was forced to turn away from his work. For the last several days, he crossed deserts, mountains, and forests to look down on the valley below. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, other than toward the sea, but every fiber of his being told him this was where he would be needed. “ So you ...do you.. Hear him better or feel something when your closer to the sea? I mean, it only makes sense. Right? Cyle, god of the sea. A champion of the old gods. “ Emmitt muttered behind Enoch, only he wasn’t there in the present time. In fact, this was close to the same spot he was in when he was much younger. Teenage years, trying to find their way through the harsh realities of what Earth had become through the faction transitions. “ Our dad really knew him? He wasn’t bullshitting any of those stories huh?” The memory asked. The acolyte sighed and pursed his lips. “...No, he wasn’t,” he muttered toward the memory, grateful for the company, even if it wasn’t entirely real. Hell, it was a conversation he’d had dozens of times before. “At least, not all of them,” he added, his brows furrowing heavily before he glanced over at his brother. “We aren’t supposed to question dad, remember?” he asked, almost teasingly, though his voice was a little dry. Click banner for full story
|