Post by seven on Oct 23, 2008 13:08:23 GMT -5
The building in the abandoned warehouse district were a haven for filth. Vampires would come here to congregate and plan attacks, or brag about their conquests. They were all filth. Tonight however they would be stirred up a little. The fear of god, or something atleast, would be put into them. They had a new enemy tonight, faster and stronger than any hunter, fearless, and driven through the ages to one goal, Utter destruction of all that shall feed on humans.
Levias stood outside an old and decrpit looking warehouse. It looked as though it had been out of service and rundown since the 50's, but that was on the outside. Inside it was a sophisticated nerve center for a group of local vampires. Of course Levias saw them as nothing more than thugs. He was now simply waiting, in a few moments the door would unlock and he could personally send them to the 7th ring of hell. A smile crept lightly accross his lips as he pulled his left hand from his coat pocket. Following his hand was the razor whip known as demon tail, a weapon that he had not been free from in over 700 years.
Demontail's free end fell to the ground with a high pitched jingling. It was well over 10 feet long, though you would never think so by seeing it in a pile at his feet. The other end seemed to climbe eerily up to his wrist where it wrapped menacingly up his arm. The left side of his coat was sure to be ripped to shreds once he started to move, as demontails blades stuck out of his arm where it was wrapped.
A few moments passed in silence as Levias stood, waiting, and then, as he had predicted the door unlocked. Instantly the smile vanished from his face as he lunged forward towards the door, it was still closed but now it was vulnerable as was made painfuly clear when his body struck it. The door flew off its hinges and hit the ground with a terrible noise. In a flash the room lit up as vampire pulled their weapons and started to shoot at the intruder.
Levias moved with incredible grace and speed dodging he bullets as if they were standing still. At each turn he whipped out his left arm sendign the cursed weapon screaming towards the vampires who were powerless to keep it from ripping them open. Blood sprayed out over the room magnificently in a slowmotion ballet of chaos. When the door had fallen dozens of vampires had stood. Now, not a minute later Levias stood alone and in darkness. Blood covering him, the the bullet riddled walls and everything else.
He stood now, breathing heavily, in a state of pure blood lust. As he had thought his coat was ripped right apart, and now the tangled edges of his weapon could be clearly seen coiling up his arm like a giant silver snake, only to rise over his shoulder and dissapear under his collar bone, tieing right into his heart. The free end lof the weapon, once silver, was now stained red, and seemed to ring out still in an unholy manner.
A few more moments passed and Levias slowly managed to stand up straight again. His eyes were closed for fear of seeing the damage he had really done. He always hated seeing death, but he hated these blood suckers even more. He pulled the remains of his coat from his body and tossed his once black fedora to the side. Now he stood wearing nothing but black dresspants and a pair of black shoes. Now he would have to search for survivors, and deliver them to their final resting place.
Levias stood outside an old and decrpit looking warehouse. It looked as though it had been out of service and rundown since the 50's, but that was on the outside. Inside it was a sophisticated nerve center for a group of local vampires. Of course Levias saw them as nothing more than thugs. He was now simply waiting, in a few moments the door would unlock and he could personally send them to the 7th ring of hell. A smile crept lightly accross his lips as he pulled his left hand from his coat pocket. Following his hand was the razor whip known as demon tail, a weapon that he had not been free from in over 700 years.
Demontail's free end fell to the ground with a high pitched jingling. It was well over 10 feet long, though you would never think so by seeing it in a pile at his feet. The other end seemed to climbe eerily up to his wrist where it wrapped menacingly up his arm. The left side of his coat was sure to be ripped to shreds once he started to move, as demontails blades stuck out of his arm where it was wrapped.
A few moments passed in silence as Levias stood, waiting, and then, as he had predicted the door unlocked. Instantly the smile vanished from his face as he lunged forward towards the door, it was still closed but now it was vulnerable as was made painfuly clear when his body struck it. The door flew off its hinges and hit the ground with a terrible noise. In a flash the room lit up as vampire pulled their weapons and started to shoot at the intruder.
Levias moved with incredible grace and speed dodging he bullets as if they were standing still. At each turn he whipped out his left arm sendign the cursed weapon screaming towards the vampires who were powerless to keep it from ripping them open. Blood sprayed out over the room magnificently in a slowmotion ballet of chaos. When the door had fallen dozens of vampires had stood. Now, not a minute later Levias stood alone and in darkness. Blood covering him, the the bullet riddled walls and everything else.
He stood now, breathing heavily, in a state of pure blood lust. As he had thought his coat was ripped right apart, and now the tangled edges of his weapon could be clearly seen coiling up his arm like a giant silver snake, only to rise over his shoulder and dissapear under his collar bone, tieing right into his heart. The free end lof the weapon, once silver, was now stained red, and seemed to ring out still in an unholy manner.
A few more moments passed and Levias slowly managed to stand up straight again. His eyes were closed for fear of seeing the damage he had really done. He always hated seeing death, but he hated these blood suckers even more. He pulled the remains of his coat from his body and tossed his once black fedora to the side. Now he stood wearing nothing but black dresspants and a pair of black shoes. Now he would have to search for survivors, and deliver them to their final resting place.
