The crowd was silent, worried and even a bit scared... At their center stood a man, Bennett the local fighter champion, and infront of him laid a bloody pulp that once was his opponent. Normally a fight would have calmed him, but rage burned far too strong for that. He stormed out and back to his appartement, without bothering taking the money he should have won, leaving the ref to reluctantly see if the other fighter was still alive.
Arriving back home, he started pacing back and forth thinking, the girls weren't there and Grim had sneaked out earlier taking a cab. Grim could fool others but not him, Rafzakael's gift allowed him to see before the mundane and for the last several days he could see the dark claws of his master slowly ravage his lover's soul for power.
He too had once experianced the ravaging as the fallen called it, a method to rapidly gain faith at the cost of their thrall's health and will power... and eventually their sanity. His experiance was demonstrative rather than punitive. He wasn't sure if it was even possible to survive a entire week of constant torture...
But what could he do?He didn't even know the name of grim's patron nor his where abouts, so tracking him down was not an option. He couldn't contact Rafzakael at the moment and he doubted that even then he would be of any help.
His last option was for grim to throw the game, but that would destroy him... under his tought exterior he was gentle, fragilised by all those men before him and the hearthbreaks they had caused him... Worse of all grim was resisting for his sake, Nerathul wished for his thrall to assasinate him when the moment would be good.
In frustration, he smashed his fist right into the brick wall, creating a considerable amount of cracks in it... He had sworn to protect his dark prince from further harm yet here he was, useless while his love suffered the ultimate torment.
Ignoring the pain from his hand he left the apartement, He was going to find someone or something to pay the motherfucker back, even if he had to burn down half the isles down...
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(I ran out of time earlier so i'm following up.)
The door exploded into a rain of tiny wooden shards from the security guard that was just threw in from the otherside, As Lucien turned around to see his guard passed out and badly beaten a man in a beige coat with a crimson ponytail entered the workshop where he did his trade.
"Who the fuck are--" Before Lucien could finish talking the man was at his throat "I need your help, and I won't take no for an answear!" left with no other choice but to accept he started speaking, feeling the man's finger closing on his throat "Ok, ok. We'll talk..."
Ben let the man down who searched for his breath for a few seconds before talking "So, who the hell are you?" the man glared at him before saying who he was, almost spitting it. "Bennett jones."
The man nodded in aknowledgement before asking why in the hell did he demolished his door and security staff. "There's something I gotta do, right fucking now. I need a weapon that can send a fallen right back into the abyss where he belongs"
"What fallen? I can't just start to hand out these kind of things like they were candy..." As Lucien finished his sentence the man before him grabbed him and smashed his head hard on the worktable. "You see that desk? In an hour it's either what I asked for or your brain that will be on there, the choice is yours, understood?"
Still dizzy from the hit he responded to the man before he would try to make his point even more clear "Wait... I don't have what you want in stock... leave me a few days and I'll make it..." The man stormed out only saying "Don't even think about double crossing me!"
As he stubblem to get up he gazed outside, he could see his entire security staff bloody and not moving... that man was a real monster...
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