The figure eased out of the morning mist...a tall warrior upon a grey horse...his clothes ripped and torn...his skin scarred and bloodied... He looked aged...all but his eyes...deep blue..they spoke of spirit and fight...there was much fight left in The Slayer...ahead lay two paths...one smooth and clear...the other dark and rocky...once again the voice came..soft...alluring.. And again he was drawn into the darkness...he traveled many days...slayed demons most would never face...then ar a small rise in the road..a thicket...thorns and long spikes... The corpses of those that had tried before adorned its edges...then the voice again...soft and alluring... Evil...he knew...like poison...but he was drawn...seduced...but then a new voice... From the chaos rose...softer yet... Peaceful...patient...."I am with you sir...you will not fail...but if you did...i would love you still...""...then the scent of lilac...his heart pounded in his chest...his eyes grew red...he raised his sword high...and down through the thicket it crashed...the path was clear...and in the distance...no voice...just a scream...for now...the temptress was the prey....
6 years ago. March 22, 2018 at 10:13 PM