Demon Hunter | Book 1 Prologue (22) | If Life Was Like When We First Met`

in corpses •  7 years ago  (edited)

The young man sighed. He carefully found places within the ground full of corpses to step on and walked towards the girl.

The girl did not seem to care that much, however. She immediately jumped into his arms, sending pieces of flesh and blood flying everywhere. The young man softly rubbed the long gray hair that was just as soft as before. Even though it had made contact with blood, none of the droplets of blood lingered on her head.

“I’m scared!” the girl quietly said. Her small hands tightly gripped the cloth wrapped all around the young man’s body, pulling until it probably left him in quite a bit of pain. The young man knew that she was truly scared, yet he didn’t know how to comfort her.

Places where people lived always brought about trouble, but within the wastelands, it was truly becoming harder and harder to find food. What he lacked the most was clean water. In this era, the first thing every single person worries about is survival. Before survival, there was no such thing as leniency, and no such thing as sharing with others. The existence of any person might only equate to clean food and water in the eyes of another.

Noisy voices suddenly sounded outside the inn. Someone shouted loudly, “An outsider has committed murder! The butcher has died! I just saw them inside!”
The shouts became louder and louder, and from time to time, the contrasting clanking of metal could be heard. There were at least ten people surrounding this four roomed inn. The youngster quietly patted the girl and silently pulled out a flaming ant blade. This blade had been cut in half, and only the sharpest part remained. Sharp teeth lined the blade that shone with a deep green light. In addition, a grip had been carefully polished and was carefully wrapped in thick cloth strips. It seemed quite powerful; an item like this was already comparable to the military daggers from the former times.

The young man tightened his grip on the blade as he quietly awaited the moment when the group of people would break in. The girl also stopped weeping. Her beautiful blue eyes darted around the room and landed on top of that rectangular executioner’s blade. She reached out her small hand towards that blade, because it was an item she was comfortable using.

The young man’s left hand stretched out and pulled back the girl, not allowing her to touch the blade. He moved the girl behind him and calmly watched the door and window. Even though the window was nailed shut with wooden strips, it wouldn’t last long against those that wanted to break in.

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