The thug watched Harrigan and his hideous transformation, he winced at the screams that echoed through the clearing. Only this wasn’t an echo but more like a choir, he turned to see two of his friends in pillars of fire going quickly from medium rare to very well done he thought.

  Dammit, he owed me money thought the thug, maybe I can pull something of worth off their corpses.

  The elf bitch went to run but was quickly taken down, and rag shoved in her mouth. This brought a smile to his mouth, they’d be having some fun with her after all.

  Her friend made a run to aid her but a quick swing of a club soon ended that idea, when he made to lift up he grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head of the ground.

  Making him watch the proceedings would be a riot, then of course they’d just kill him and take what they wanted.

  He grabbed the man’s hair again and dragged his head up to watch Harrigan and Gaunt have their fun, it never occurred to him that there was no resistance from his victim, at least not until he made to ensure he was watching when he noticed the man’s eyes, they were black, this guy is a core user but what use is a vision power.

  ‘If you wanted a better look I could drag you closer’ he laughed

  A hand was on his wrist all of a sudden, with an immense strength he was brought to the floor flat on his back, the pressure on his kept increasing until his arm bent to an impossible angle with a snap and a scream.

  He looked up into the man’s onyx black eyes they weren’t even looking at him, he began to shout for help when the grip was upon his throat, his attackers arm, smoke rising off it like steam as it clamped around his neck, blood trickling down to his nape.

  The pain continued as the vice like grip constricted tighter and tighter, he gasped for air as he began scratching and flailing at his attacker, no reaction came, at was as if he was attacking a statue.

  An awareness of the structure of his wind pipe which hitherto went unrecognised as it strained then cracked, blood spewing from his mouth in choked starts.

  The fingers digging into his throat then lifted him from the ground and brought him back down upon the ground, hard, his ribs shattering and he was lifted and brought down again and again.

  After the repeated assault Ash’s hand went to lift the man again but instead simply pulled up a blood soaked hand.

  Harrigan whirled round the smell of fresh blood in the air ‘Gaunt kill that cur’

  As Gaunt left his leaders side he drew his sword and began to charge when an explosion of smoke emanated from the stranger, he came to a stop and held his sword in both hands pointed outwards as he spun in circles, shadows swirling in the impenetrable mists. Shadows danced across the shroud and coalesced to a point, he took the opportunity and lunged at the figure, whilst nothing connected he was unable to withdraw his sword.

  The smoke started to dissipate and up to his elbows he had stabbed a large black disc, Gaunt tugged and tugged but to no avail, to his horror the disc shrank until it made contact his arms just above the elbows. The pressure started off like a rope tightening around his arms growing and growing he could feel the portal constricting him and then all of a sudden the immense weight was gone.

  Gaunt unlike his ex-compatriot did not scream, he simply looked down at his bloody stumps and the figure in front of him smoke rising off his cowl and cloak.

  Another circle opened up next to the figure reaching inside he withdrew the same sword held by the blade to his already dazed surprise his arms were still attached to the hilt in a post mortem grip. The time of shock was brought to an end when the stumps of his own dismembered arms were brought across his face with a ferocity that was incongruous with the man’s stoic demeanour.

  Gaunt lay on the ground, his arm pumping out his life’s blood and he watched as the stranger proceeded at a steady walk passing over him without a thought towards his leader, he hadn’t the energy to call out, nor the ability as when he went to open his mouth a shooting pain ran through his jaw like a bolt of lightning.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  As he lay there, his eyes drooping and his vision blurring.

  How did this happen, we had the numbers, they weren’t even armed these thoughts rolled through his mind as the swirling darkness consumed his consciousness and with it his life..

  Harrigan was staring down at the elf woman, a little bookish for his tastes and not enough meat on her bones but an example needed to be made of people that resisted him.

  Things had gone quiet behind him, Gaunt had always been reliable like that, he though it was a pity they couldn’t have more fun with the whelp. They’d on previous occasions tortured victims over a matter of days before, pegging them out and letting the elements or even wild beasts have their fill. The men’s laughs sounding out in concert with their victims screams, good days indeed. His favourite though was leaving them out for the goblins, the hells know what goblins did to people but even the ones that make it back out are never right again.

  He held the rag in place with his left hand and was reaching down with his right when he was all of a sudden encapsulated in fog.

  He looked around and saw shadows dancing around when an arm reached out of the fog and made to grab him. He deftly rolled out of the arms reach getting to his feet and charged into the fog where the arm had disappeared back into. With a great thud he made contact and was slightly stunned as the tree he ran into groaned, tilted and toppled over.

  An eerie silence fell upon the place and Harrigan screamed out in agony as a figure clad in black or very dark grey landed upon him driving a sword deep into his shoulder. He reached up and grabbed his attacker by his garb throwing him forwards off his shoulder, the man glided through the air landing facing away.

  ‘You dare turn your back on me’ Harrigan snarled and charged at Ash

  Within two feet of his prey all he heard was ‘NO’

  The cowl inverted revealing the man facing him, charging again his target swiftly moved to one side and he ran clear past him.

  ‘You slippery git’ Harrigan shouted whirling round to see the man cleaning his sword and putting it away. ‘You dare mock me, this fight isn’t over boy!’ he screamed.

  As he made to charge, he slipped in the mud sending him over, ‘Dammit’ he pounded a fist into the slick mud, no not mud, blood. He looked down to see his innards had become outards.

  His eyes widened in shock and held the contents of his own abdomen in his hands, ‘you bast.. argh’ he moaned as his head was pulled back from behind and the forcefully slammed into the floor.

  ‘you whelp, I’ll kill you, you damn brat and the bitch’ he coughed out alongside blood that dribbled from his lips.

  ‘A FOUL MOUTH ON THIS ONE’ Ash said stoically holding out his hand, Harrigan looked up at a black circle and before he knew it a sword dropped down which Ash lazily caught blade facing down. Standing over Harrigans prone body Ash began to bring the sword down, Harrigan caught the blade with his hands the edge cutting deep into his palms already slick with his own blood, the point of the blade did not stop moving until it was mere millimetres away from the bandit’s mouth. He began to scream angrily as the sword was slowly pushed down grinding in between his teeth as he tried to bite down to slow its egress, the friction caused a sound equal to nails on a chalk board, the blood from his hands running down the blade and pooling in his mouth as he choked and spluttered as much as you can with a sword in your mouth. The blade parting his jaws so much he could feel the muscles in his jaw tearing and suddenly his teeth shattered and the sword plunged down through the mans head.

  A few gurgles and a bloody bubble rose up out of the mans mouth as his arms fell limp.