| Viktor emerged from the woods, his long robes covered in bandit blood. The arm of val'Kishtar was proud beside him, looking more solid and substantial from its joyful execution of the massacre of the vagabond bowmen.
Stalking up behind an archer intent on aiming at the man with the flaming sword, Viktor lashed out with the his spectral arm as the arrow was released, snatching it out of middair and snapping it in two.
Spinning the thief around with his right hand, Viktor plunged his demon arm through the man's stomach, phasing it until the spectral fingers closed on the bandit's spinal column. Resubstantiating the arm, Viktor ripped the bowman's spine out through his stomach, killing him instantly.
He stood there holding the dripping length of bone in his hand, nerve fluids gushing from it. The demon hand of val'Kishtar had retracted into his own, leaving the man's spine in his bare human hand.
Viktor dropped it hastily with disgust. The demon inside him was toying with him again, trying to break his mind. Viktor dropped to his knees, squeezing his hands to his head in anguish. He was not a killer...he was a shaper of steel, a provider for his family. Why did the gods punish him so for trying to protect his wife and children?
Despair turned to anger as val'Kishtar whispered lies and forbidden secrets into his thoughts, the black arm reappearing, its claws drawing blood across Viktor's forehead.
Viktor's face screwed up with rage, and he charged full on at the nearest bandit. |