giant ya kitanda... the bed of the giant
Feb 14, 2013 11:48:08 GMT -8
Post by BLKND on Feb 14, 2013 11:48:08 GMT -8
“That was your blood. You’re going to feel a little light headed- you might pass out. Don’t resist it.” He said, coaching the man, who had begun to look up into the trees.
It was evident that he had begun praying for some higher power to assist the giant. Next, the green light circling Moroku’s hands would appear once more, one of them being placed onto the man’s stomach, and the other onto his chest. His eyes would close, and the light would grow brighter. The screams of the woman continued to persist, and each tenacious screech revealed another inch of the machete lodged in to her arm. Moroku stayed focused, however. It wouldn’t be long before the stomach had been closed, and the bleeding had been ailed. A small treasure of blood had been separated from the body, bile included. The cargo had passed out after the second cleanse. The second after Moroku had finished, he rose to his feet and turned to see the woman still grappling with the matte handle which connected her to the tree. She tugged vehemently, only to tire herself out. Moroku walked towards her, placing the heel of his boot onto her sternum as he reached down and quickly yanked the blade from its place, letting the tip dangle at her throat.
“You’re not a very good spy. You have your priorities straight, yes, but you don’t know much about tact.” He stood up straight before launching the blade at her head.
It ran into the tree just as far, cutting her shoulder- off by what looked like an inch.
“I know who you are…” She said violently- in a way that rather appealed to Moroku. “EDEN or Momo may not know- but I do. I was there, that day three years ago. I never thought I’d see you again, but here you are.”
Moroku stared down at her with an uninterested face. Not many people would know what she was referencing, nor would they care. However, to have someone here, of all places, pick him out. It was interesting to him.
“Funny. You don’t look like a native of the islands.” He said, cocking his head to the side, searching for some sort of resemblance. His attempt was useless.
“I’m not,” She said, cradling her wound as she slowly attempted to resist his foot pressing against her ability to breath. “I was out on assignment. Some low rank mission to harvest some fruit that only grows down there.”
It was evident that he had begun praying for some higher power to assist the giant. Next, the green light circling Moroku’s hands would appear once more, one of them being placed onto the man’s stomach, and the other onto his chest. His eyes would close, and the light would grow brighter. The screams of the woman continued to persist, and each tenacious screech revealed another inch of the machete lodged in to her arm. Moroku stayed focused, however. It wouldn’t be long before the stomach had been closed, and the bleeding had been ailed. A small treasure of blood had been separated from the body, bile included. The cargo had passed out after the second cleanse. The second after Moroku had finished, he rose to his feet and turned to see the woman still grappling with the matte handle which connected her to the tree. She tugged vehemently, only to tire herself out. Moroku walked towards her, placing the heel of his boot onto her sternum as he reached down and quickly yanked the blade from its place, letting the tip dangle at her throat.
“You’re not a very good spy. You have your priorities straight, yes, but you don’t know much about tact.” He stood up straight before launching the blade at her head.
It ran into the tree just as far, cutting her shoulder- off by what looked like an inch.
“I know who you are…” She said violently- in a way that rather appealed to Moroku. “EDEN or Momo may not know- but I do. I was there, that day three years ago. I never thought I’d see you again, but here you are.”
Moroku stared down at her with an uninterested face. Not many people would know what she was referencing, nor would they care. However, to have someone here, of all places, pick him out. It was interesting to him.
“Funny. You don’t look like a native of the islands.” He said, cocking his head to the side, searching for some sort of resemblance. His attempt was useless.
“I’m not,” She said, cradling her wound as she slowly attempted to resist his foot pressing against her ability to breath. “I was out on assignment. Some low rank mission to harvest some fruit that only grows down there.”