3,2,1, Apocolypse
Prologue
His dark unruly hair fell in front of his face. He didn't dare move it, fearing Lucas would instantly sense vulnrebility. He twirled the sword in circles, ready for a fight. This time last year, he would have cowarded in fear. Since then, he has grown to love violence, and enjoy the perks that come with it. Perks like killing assholes that wanted to end the world.
He lifted his sword to face his opponent, who soon looked back at him. He had dark black eyes, you could see the history and pain of his life. It frightened most people, but Abbot welcomed it. He wished that Lucas could stare right back into those eyes, just to see how much he screwed up in years past. He wished Lucas could tell the difference between right and wrong.
They stared at each other with scowls and narrowed eyes, not moving at all. The wind brushed past them, causing Lucas's hat to fly away, but not without trying to be caught by it's owner. As soon as Lucas turned his head to watch hit hat fly, Abbot took the oppurtunity to strike his chest.
Lucas screeched in agony, holding his chest, and falling down to the floor. He layed there, while his blood formed a pool around him. He swore under his breath, shutting his eyes, and pressing farther on his wound.
Abbot watched the blood form a puddle around Lucas, and felt himself go weak, falling to the floor himself.
Some things never change.
He lifted his sword to face his opponent, who soon looked back at him. He had dark black eyes, you could see the history and pain of his life. It frightened most people, but Abbot welcomed it. He wished that Lucas could stare right back into those eyes, just to see how much he screwed up in years past. He wished Lucas could tell the difference between right and wrong.
They stared at each other with scowls and narrowed eyes, not moving at all. The wind brushed past them, causing Lucas's hat to fly away, but not without trying to be caught by it's owner. As soon as Lucas turned his head to watch hit hat fly, Abbot took the oppurtunity to strike his chest.
Lucas screeched in agony, holding his chest, and falling down to the floor. He layed there, while his blood formed a pool around him. He swore under his breath, shutting his eyes, and pressing farther on his wound.
Abbot watched the blood form a puddle around Lucas, and felt himself go weak, falling to the floor himself.
Some things never change.