Untitled Dream

Untitled Dream

His entire body was rigid with anticipation as he scanned the mob of enemies gathering hungrily in front of him. They were dressed in silent black clothing with hoods and masks that covered their faces, save their eyes. Their eyes sent a shiver up his spine and neck that made his hair stand on end. Their eyes were black as night, full of hatred and anger and glinting maliciously straight at him.
One of the creatures stepped forward, broadsword high above his head ready to swing the fatal blow that would finally end the tall, proud figure's rebellious life. It's upper lip curled into a sneer of victory in anticipation of the blood he had so longed to shed. But it's eyes changed from pure malice to surprise, brief pain, and finally, icy stillness.
The man was now crouching, battle ready and swords drawn. The sword he had in his right hand was crawling in flame and the one in his left hand was glowing a faint green color. The demon's head fell to the floor and a triumphant, mocking smirk joined the features of his face. The other demon's faces swept from their companions severed head to the well prepared antagonist of their lives. Instantly, they sprung into action, leaping at their new hatred.
Their prey was ready, and he quickly dispatched the first of his enemies with a well placed thrust. The green sword plunged into the midsection of one demon and immediately the skin and muscle started to decay away from the bone. He turn his head slightly, his eyes flashed, and he ducked just in time to dodge a blade that sought his throat. The flaming blade then plunged into the knee of another demon and the smell of burning flesh and the sound of screams filled the room. He spun around as he rose and another two demons fell.
He crossed his swords in front of his face to parry the sword that he saw coming. The demon's sword became locked in the V shaped crevice that his two weapons made. He looked into the demons dark endless eyes and that familiar smirked reached his mouth again. Suddenly, the demon's sword split in two and the defender's swords came out to his left and right, chopping another three demons in half.
He fought with everything he had, but his strength was still failing him. Demons had fallen by the dozen, but there were just too many of them to handle. He was battered and beaten, bleeding and wounded. His arms and torso were covered in small rips and tears and a slice into his back shoulder was bleeding heavily.
The mob was driving him backward and he tripped over a lifeless corpse. One demon crouched quickly, like a cat ready to pounce. The man's proud capable facade faltered briefly as he realized he was going to die. The demon grinned showing the sharp, uneven teeth through its mask and his onyx eyes shone with glee. Then suddenly, those eyes vanished as his head exploded into a plethora of blood and chunks of skull.
The headless body fell to the ground and a woman in crimson leather stood there with a still smoking pistol pointed at the empty space where the demon's head used to be. She had midnight black hair with one strip of moonlight on the left side and she kept it pulled back into a tight ponytail. She raised one eyebrow in disapproval at the man sprawled on the ground, but her silver eyes were filled with humor and relief. She turned her heel and joined the struggle.
He leaped up, gratefully, and re-immersed himself into his bloodlust. The slaughter began again. Demons fell, one by one, just twice as quickly. Together, the flew over lives. The mob quickly diminished until one was left standing hazardously right between the mysteriously powerful man and woman. The man flicked his sword through the neck and blood started to flow and his body hit the ground. The woman was standing there, pistol loose at her side, with a strange look on her face. He took a step toward her, confused, until the saw the blood leaking from her neck. Staggering backwards, he soon realized it was his own blade that caused the sever.
He dropped to on knee and bowed his head. Another demon walked through the door and the man could immediately tell he was more important than the previous mob of enemies. He could sense the power and authority that he carried with him. His hands, arms, shoulders, legs, and feet were covered with spikes. He carried a pistol and wore two swords at his waist. His eyes were blood red.
The demon's evil slowly permeated through the room as he slowly walked towards the kneeling figure. The man looked up and tears misted his vision as they gathered in his lids. The leaked out and ran down his face and fell off his jaw line. They hit the ground and mixed with the blood. He stood up, put his weight on his left leg, and twisted his hips as though he was going to turn around and walk away. Instead, he kicked the hand that gripped the gun. IT flew up into the air and he caught it. He pointed it at the demon's surprised face and glared at it angrily. Then his stare softened and he turned the gun on his own head. One last tear fell to the ground and he pulled the trigger.