The smell of blood tinged the air, the scent seemed to waft from every corner of the room. A heaving man lay at the center of the room in an ever growing pool of his own blood. Figures that could only have come from the very depths of hell surrounded the man, laughing at his prone figure. The man opened his mouth to speak.

“W-why?...”

The laughter increased. Those nightmarish figures began to group closer to the man, licking their demonic lips as they approached.

“Halt!”

A loud, growling voice overtook the laughter, silencing the demonic beings. An even more nightmarish being, dragging a sword almost as large as himself, appeared at the edge of the encirclement. It began to walk forward, with the other figures reverently lowing their heads as they moved to the side. The man laughed, which quickly turned to a bloody cough, before raising his head to look at the approaching figure.

“Why did they…?”

The figure smiled, flashing the sharp canines that made up the entirety of its teeth. It raised its sword before resting it on its shoulder.

“I need to stand up.”

The man struggled, attempting to lift more than just his head, but it was futile. The figure before him took one more step forward, crushing the man’s leg.

“I- I… I can’t…”

The figure’s smile grew even larger as he raised the sword off his shoulder. THe man lowered his head and closed his eyes.

“I guess this is it…”

A single teardrop dripped from his eye.

“I’m sorry…”

Do you require strength?