

Promise Me...He had been here before. So many times he'd begun to lose count. The faces had begun to blur together, the features swirling into a generic mass that seemed little more than a bullseye in his mind. It didn't matter anymore, who they were. The why, the how, they didn't matter either. There were orders, assignments. They were carried out. He was paid, or not. If he wasn't there was more work before the contract was completed. If he was, he moved on to the next.Promise Me...
There was no denying the effect the soft click of black dress shoes had on those meaningless paychecks. The echo in the empty halls as he strode without a word. His suit had


Nothing Left To Talk AboutHe threw it fast and hard, slipping it into the first opening he could find. Up, reflexively, hoping to put a stop to his enemy's charge before he himself could be harmed and finding purchase square in the center of the larger man's torso. Between the upper two abdominal muscles, just below the ribcage. He could feel the tips of his second knuckles grinding against that bony ridge, could feel the skin and the muscle caving under his attack. Something popped loudly, but he couldn't tell if the source of the sound was his arm or some part of his opponent's body affected negatively by the uppercut that had just been received.Nothing Left To Talk About


A Warrior's PrideMy fist struck the wall again, another hole opening in the flimsy plaster at the behest of my flesh and bone, and I screamed my frustration into the cold night air.A Warrior's Pride
No! I won't accept this! This isn't the way it should to be, damnit! Damnit! Another cry, another hole, and I could feel my legs give out on me under the crushing weight of hopelessness.
Hands balled tightly as if grasping for some lingering shred of pride to pull myself up with, pull myself off my knees and into my rightful position on my feet. There was nothing there, and I was starting to wonder if there ever had been. Rage boil
Azrael
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