@goetiia

@goetiia

The swarming reporters were a perfect cover, given by the shadows they cast as they desperately tried to snap a picture of the possibly gravely injured Prince. Her lips twitched in disgust at the thought. Karma, despite her ways still vividly contrasted, contradicted Sloth, from clothing to attitude without mentioning her occupation or powers.

Of course she couldn't leave Villám in Wrath, the sleek midnight horse with emerald flame eyes blended almost as well among the shades as her rider. The marksman has lost count of the years she spent in Wrath, the desert almost like the scorching Arizona. She has watched the Harvest Moon festival from afar, solitude preferred for everyone's sake. Nothing she wasn't used to already.

“Be patient, alright? Call for me if necessary.” the marksman's tone gentle as she parted from her horse

It wasn't morbid curiosity that caused her to make this decision but genuine care; a poison green shadow slithering through the crowd unseen and undetected, crawling under closed doors, seeking the source fluttering life. Swirling smoke took her shape once in the room filled with flowers instinctively flinching away from her mere presence.

A louder clack of steel heeled boots to make her entrance known as subtle and careful as she could.

“I apologize if my presence is unwanted, Your Highness.”

The infamous eye with quite a reputation in Wrath a dim glow and contrast against the room.

“I can assure you, I mean no harm. I came because I'm genuinely worried about your state but I can leave if you wish to. I wouldn't blame you if my presence is...upsetting at best.” who would even want Death visiting them in a hospital?

∗ 34﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be . - Scarlet

Interesting prompts

Good old Pride never failed to disappoint. Loud, entitled, slimy, a modern wild west without spine. Her job was done, there wasn't any need for her to stick around and endure more of this...if not for the same shark demon seeming too interested in a beautiful flower shop. Which by itself wasn't suspicious, him not buying anything after both of his trips was. Along with how he eyed the imp lady when she wasn't looking.

Therefore Karma extended her stay to see if he returned the third time; of course he did. No innocent ladies will get hurt or worse because she turned a blind eye to obvious signs. Villám followed the demon like a shadow, the nimble horse finding shelter in the shades every time he looked behind his back.

When he began to dial a number, an acid green bullet tore through the air and then his hand.

The sound of steel heeled cowboy boots followed by the chitter of the phone being kicked away muffled by agonized screaming.

“You can make it easy.” Karma spoke, calm as always

“Who did you want to call?” she loomed over the demon, asking so casually as if she was asking about the weather

"My hand, you whore!"

“Hands.” she corrected and before the confused 'Huh?' could leave the fanged mouth, she's already shot through both of them.

“Who did you want to call.” she repeated with more force this time, after the screaming died down to whimpers

"...My boss" came the reluctant reply

“Why?” defiance was already welling up in his eyes; off went his tail fin

"Because he wants to be sure its her!" upon sensing it wasn't satisfying enough, he finally began to talk "He killed her, she's supposed to be dead and no one can escape him!"

“His name, and this is over.” Karma promised, eerie and almost unfeeling

"Crimson!" came the shout when she aligned the revolver with his knee.

“Rest.” and Karma fulfilled her promise before the shark demon could fully comprehend the meaning

A sigh followed the final shot, how she hated when her gut was right. And not like she could just leave the corpse here with evidences of torture. Shadowy mist swirled from her, whispering, stretching towards the body. Her form began to distort as her powers crawled over and engulfed the corpse in a lethal embrace, eating away skin, flesh, organs and even bones. No trace left behind, save for seemingly random holes where the bullets had struck, no one would know except the disappeared dead. Or so she thought.

ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨

The statement that the inn was trashed didn’t do the scene justice. Glass littered, blood stained the wooden boards, tables flipped, ruined, chairs broken and thrown, windows- what windows? Bullet holes riddled every surface with corpses littered on the floor, slumped on the stairs. It was a showdown, but not exactly how the fearful crowd believed and refused to listen to those who managed to escape with their lives. After all how ridiculous the claim was that one woman tried to take out the whole local gang? Surely a rival one just arrived to the town.

Death settled inside the previously lively inn, the remaining bandits guarding the front entrance. The town sheriff only watched with faltering hope.

A faint twitch slowly growing to snakelike twists, tiny pieces of glass shaken from her body, the faint cracking of them hitting the blood darkened wood almost deafening in the ear ringing silence. As if the whole town was holding its breath. The woman’s eyes rolled back in their sockets fighting through the previous unconsciousness. The grotesque rolling of her limbs, torso stopped after the searing white hot pain in her left leg pierced through the veil; the woman snapped into sitting position.

Blood ran rivers from her forehead as well, the rich crimson eventually reaching her parted lips. Instead of spitting the metallic liquid out, Karma eagerly drank as if feeding on her own life, pupils dilated from the dizzying, maddening adrenaline. Her mind was still swimming in sangria haze but her hands never wavered as she refilled her revolvers without even glancing at it. Nimble fingers danced from her belt to the cylinders until they were full; they clicked back in place was when the fog dissipated entirely.

With each beat of her heart the puddle under her own leg grew larger; a makeshift bandage will do in short term. The upturned table she was leaning against had its left side blown off almost completely; shotgun with a large caliber. 20 corpses, 12 of those whom she had rightfully shot, the others were the unfortunate caught in the crossfire or ended by the criminals. Well, 12 was definitely not 18, was it now? She felt her lips wet with her own scarlet blood tug into a silent, vicious grin. All red tainted teeth without light. Karma only saw half of her reflection in the broken glass, the emerald of her eye blazing in the center of the crosshair scar. Pupils blown wide, adrenaline like liquid fire warming her from inside; oh she was alive.

“Aren’t ya goin’ to check it?!” the escaped leader snapped at his shaken remaining men, motioning for one of them to gather their courage and make sure that unholy creature was dead or not.

The red sun dipped below the horizon.

Glass cracked beneath steel heeled boots, the sound alarming not only the criminals but the townspeople as well. They were sure steps, not a stumble of someone on verge of dying. A shot with a scream when witnessing the flash of emerald blaze in the abyss; but the man was the one who collapsed with empty eyes despite his gun was drawn. The eyes remained. 13. Spinning from under the batwing doors of the inn, the marksman already had the next in her crosshairs; the two triggers pulled in perfect union. 15.

The man with the shotgun was still alive, blasting the door clean off its hinges, only that the marksman already assumed her next position to end his life as well. 16.

The remaining two just stared for a few moments; fear, bewilderment, confusion swallowed by emerald orbs on fire. The staring contest was broken with an another impossible speed draw, 17. This was the moment when the bandit leader decided to flee, running, scrambling wildly and blindly like a startled, hunted animal. Karma observed with a final flare in her eyes, her revolver slowly leveling with the disappearing figure. A thunder of a shot, a soft thud a few moments later. 18.

“I would like a doctor to check my leg.” the people jumped almost at the same time when the bounty hunter spoke, they wordlessly stared along with a few hushed whispers about the devil. Oh, just the usual.

“Sheriff of Wildcreak, I want the bounty of the Mothers’ Tears gang ready by morning. Of seventeen members’, keep last one’s to rebuild the inn.” Karma stated, something told her there won’t be any problems regarding payment.

She turned and walked back to the now dark inn in ruins in hope that a room upstairs might’ve survived the carnage intact enough to sleep in. The adrenaline slowly but eventually draining entirely, leaving her the same aching hollow as before.

𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Hollow

Extermination - Unity

Ａｓ Ａｂｏｖｅ， Ｓｏ Ｂｅｌｏｗ

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