There Will Be Blood Tonight
There was no noise.
let the bodies hit the floor
There was no movement.
let the bodies hit the floor
He stared down the entire castle guard, as the lights had come on too suddenly for him to escape.
let the bodies hit the floor
All he had left was a killing edge, and a burning desire to take as many of them with him as he could before he was finally sent to hell.
let the bodies hit the…
Then, somewhere in the vicinity, there was a noise. Perhaps some soldier moved and his armor jangled, or a wind blew somewhere. Whatever happened, at that moment, he disappeared.
FLOOOOOOOOOOR!!
He had no regrets. For the first time in his life, the assassin felt emotion. It was an unquenchable bloodlust, and he allowed it to consume him. These fools.
Beaten, why for?
He waited. He did not like waiting to kill, but he waited anyway.
Can't take much more…
He heard a man shout out an order to attack.
Here we go, here we go, here we go now…
The assassin moved, and then he was gone, along with his cloak and hood.
He ran quickly in and out of the pillars. The guards surrounded him, and then closed to attack. A knight came at him first. The assassin stood motionless, and then, when the knight attacked, he struck. The knight thrust his lance out, but the doomed assassin grabbed the shaft and pulled it away, enjoying the fear in the knight's eyes. He twirled his blades expertly, and then disappeared.
(One!) Nothing wrong with me…
Next, a soldier. The cloaked figure smirked. The man never even had a chance.
(Two!) Nothing wrong with me…
The remaining guards looked were hesitant to attack. Some of them looked as though they were considering deserting. The assassin would not give them that chance.
A man crumpled to the floor, and dropped his bow on the ground.
(Three!) Nothing wrong with me...
The man pursed his lips. He didn't know what he would do when his already fragile blade broke. Another man came at him, this time with a steel battle axe. The assassin slid to a halt, and then broke to the side as fast as lightning. The gigantic warrior swung his axe in the general direction of the assassin. He connected with the air. The assassin's cloak was began to weigh him down, as the blood of his enemies made it heavy. The axeman's blood was added to the weight.
(Four!) Nothing wrong with me…
Then, the assassin found what he had been looking for. He saw a swordsman with a fairly new sword. He sprinted to his target.
(One!) Something's got to give…
The swordsman was brave. He stood his ground, and slashed out at the cloaked menace. The assassin turned his body so that the sword connected directly with the back of his cloak, and cut it off.
(Two!) Something's got to give…
In one fluid motion, the assassin grabbed the severed cloak and spun it into a whip. He lashed out with it, and it caught the soldiers's sword by the hilt. The man's eyes widened with fear. The assassin smiled.
(Three!) Something's got to give…
He threw his killing edge at the swordsman, and yanked on his cloak. One sword was in a hand, and the other in a heart. All around, there were guards as far as the eye could see. The fire in the assassin's heart burned with lustful vengeance. As the swordsman lay dying, he looked up at the top of the ceilings and laughed. It sent chills of fear down the spines of the common soldiers. Several of the recruits in the back ran away. The rest marched forward, and to their death.
NOOOOOWWW!!
It was fitting that a man dies the same way in which he is born. This man was found on a heap of corpses. He would die the same way, and he would die at the top, just as he was born.
And so the enemy came. The pure silver from which the sword was made glinted in the torchlight. The men thought that they had a chance. Five swings of the sword, five corpses in a pile. The assassin's blood mixed with his enemies. He gave a roar of twisted pleasure.
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the…… FLOOR!!
Another wave, this time more. A soldier in the back blinked. He saw his friend swing his sword before, and then after he saw him dying in an agonized scream. The rest fell quickly. The assassin found their strategy amusing. They were trying to wear him down like a shell into sand on a beach. It wasn't working.
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the…… FLOOR!!
The enemy was becoming more cautious. They sat back, with several archers at the ready for a charge, as they prepared their next strike. Their commander once again shouted for a charge.
NOOOOWW!!
The emotion inside Jaffar's chest welled up even more. The soldiers of the guard responded to their commander's orders.
Rush me again…
The assassin readied the silver blade, as well as another that was lying at his side, which he kicked up into his left hand. Both were small enough for him to wield as well as he would his own pair of fell blades.
This is the end…
The charge was nearly perfect. Any normal foe would have fallen to it. But not this man. One soldier was a little bit ahead of the others. The Angel of Death jumped at his opportunity, his nearly vampric tastes still very hungry.
Here we go, here we go, here we go now…
The pile grew taller.
One… Nothing wrong with me…
A flash of a crimson liquid arcs through the air.
Two… Nothing wrong with me…
The enemies come faster.
Three… Nothing wrong with me…
More bodies on the stones.
Four… Nothing wrong with me…
Each footstep the assassin takes results in a splash of blood.
One… Something's got to give…
The assassin takes a step back. The guards keep coming.
Two… Something's got to give…
Another step back. The guards are winning. The assassin is backing down, and is rapidly nearing a corner.
Three… Something's got to give…
Then, he stops backing up. He takes a step forward. His violent, beautiful dance of death resumes, this time with renewed ferocity.
NOOOOOWW!! You can't hurt me, you can't hurt me…
A blade slices through the neck. A blade pierces the stomach. A blade slashes straight up the entire body of a hapless guard, from the foot through the head.
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the……FLOOOR!!
The lights are on throughout this entire spectacle. Half of the entire castle guard is already dead or dying. More will fall. The assassin's craving for blood will not be satisfied. There is a pause in combat. For a brief moment, no one moves, and then almost immediately, steel meets silver with a rain of blood.
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit floor!
The assassin has lost most of his clothing by now. All that remains is his battered pants and his headband. His carved torso is red, although no one, not even him, knows whether it is from his enemies' blood or from his own.
Skin against skin, blood against bone
He watches the faces of his enemies as they die. He sees an image of himself in their eyes. He doesn't know what to call it. Each man dies his death at the hands of it's Angel, and the die alone.
You're all by yourself but you're not alone.
He had no pity for them. They would try to take Nino to her death. By his own sins, he knew, he would save Nino. They had decided to attack him. They would learn.
You wanted in and now you're here.
The masked man let his wrathful scorn be made manifest on the bodies of the guards. Each slash of his blade cut deeper than any had ever cut before.
Driven by hate,
The guards, seeing this horrid display before them, lost their will and began to flee.
consumed by fear!
The assassin gave chase. From behind, in front, from the side. Where the strokes of his swords came from did not matter to him. All he wished was for the castle floor to be littered with the carcasses of the soldiers.
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, Let The Bodies Hit The Floor, LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOOR!!
He reached the front of the escape. Now, there were only five soldiers left. The first had a sword and a shield. The demon twirled his blades expertly.
One… Nothing wrong with me…
The next had an ornate bow. He drew that bow back to shoot at the assassin. He never pulled the string.
Two… Nothing wrong with me…
The third was tall and burly, with a lance and a heavy suit of armor. He was very slow.
Three… Nothing wrong with me…
The next wore the robes of a sage. The sage aimed his powerful lightning magic. He, much like the archer, never released his shot.
Four… Nothing wrong with me…
The last man wore the armor and emblems of a wyvern captain. He seemed to be a veteran warrior. He and the assassin clashed swords.
One… Something's got to give…
The man was strong. Despite his urge to kill the last man, the assassin found himself moving slower. He had apparently lost too much of his own blood.
Two… Something's got to give…
Then, the captain made a mistake. He took a step, an over eager step. The assassin roundhoused the captain back several feet. He was slow to get up in his armor.
Three… Something's got to give…
He leapt at the captain's throat. NOOOOOWW!!
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the……FLOOOR!!
Two blades pierced. One was the assassin's, and the other had been hidden in the captain's boot. One was embedded perfectly in the captain's throat. The other was residing in the assassin's shoulder.
His vision began to blur. He heard more voices, probably reinforcements. He knew he would be dead before they got there. He didn't care. He was ready for hell, if it would take him.
He had one more thing to do before he left. He grabbed a torch that had remained on the wall throughout the battle. He put the torch on the ground, and the flames began to lick the blood and clothing of the dead. He lied down next to the torch. With one last sinister breath before he died, he knew that those reinforcements were about to be sent to hell with him. He laid down, closed his eyes, and waited for the flames and the screams of his enemies.
LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR, LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR, LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR!!
-FIN-