Snippet #2364861

Huh?!

The Slayer came out of her crouch, nearly tripping over herself at the demon's words. She took a forced step forward, keeping her balance.

"Champion..." She muttered, inflecting her tone as if pondering the question. Several emotions played across her face in quick succession. First consternation. Then incredulity. Then anguish. Then outrage.

She clenched her teeth.

Seething blistering outrage.

"Champion?!"

Her face went eerily calm. She relaxed her fists, sighing slowly, head slightly bowed.

"AHHHHH!!!" She shrieked, tugging at fistfuls of her own hair and stamping her feet. Malice radiated from her in waves. The wrathful Slayer turned to the thing nearest her—fortunately the table and not a person—and like a mad god brought her fists down upon it, smashing the poor mass to smithereens.

Pieces of table joined the other debris that lay scattered around the room, a grim testament to her fury.

That release of anger looked like it did her some good. She stood up straight, calm and dignified, a genuine smile touching her lips. There seemed to be what looked like two demons instead of one standing in front of her. This genuinely confused the Slayer, who decided to ignore the shadowy copy altogether.

"What are you saying, pig food?" She scoffed. "Is my power not enough for you?" Her lips parted slightly. "Or does my beauty simply blind you? I am obviously the Champion. The greatest of all Slayers!" She pointed at her face with both hands, leaning forward at the waist. "Me!" She looked up suddenly, as if something important had come to mind. "Ah. And I'm going to prove it."

The Slayer took several steps backwards so that all three champions were in view. The champion of the Humans. The champion of the Elves. The champion of the Demons.

She reached inside of her overcoat, removing and unfurling the contents of a black envelope. She cleared her throat, proceeding to read from the letter.

"By decree of holy Lithium and MAVD, this heinous union is deemed invalid. Your inferred association with the glorious Slayer organization BLOOD is hereby terminated." She brought her free hand up to the collar of her overcoat as she spoke, grasping a metal handle that protruded from within. "You will each be summarily executed and your ravaged bodies sent back to your res- res-..." She was having trouble pronouncing the word. "Respective organizations..." She paused, squinting at the contents of the letter. "Uh... blah blah blah." She balled it up, shoving it hastily back into her overcoat. She looked up at the others, grinning like a child expecting praise for a job well done. "Almost forgot I was ordered to read that aloud."

At that, she struck a pose, hand on her hip. She looked each champion in turn, meeting their eyes with her own.

"This world of filth and waste is ruled by the might and glory of the Slayers," she proclaimed arrogantly, as if the information were as common as the sky is blue. Concurrently, she pulled at the handle on her collar, slowly drawing it up and outwards. The handle was attached to a string that ran back through the Slayer's overcoat. "Nix threatens this world. Therefore, Nix is a Slayer problem."

Suddenly, the room was filled with a clamorous symphony of shifting and sliding metal. The Slayer's overcoat rippled, as if it were alive.

"It will be handled by Slayers. Alone."

With a final ominous click, the overcoat seemed to stabilize, comfortable in its new form. It looked less like a coat now and more like a tightly woven protective cocoon. The previously free and flowing fabric on her back and shoulders had become rigid, like small steel plates, jutting out in various contiguous directions. From the back, one could mistake her for some sort of metallic monster.

She isn't metallic.

"Get it now, worms?" The Slayer hissed. "We, the gods of this world, refuse to work with the likes of you. And we won't allow you to get in our way." Her smile morphed into a sneer. She really enjoyed sneering at people. "So I've been sent here to kill you."

She pointed to the trio, turning up her hand and making a come hither motion with her outstretched finger.

"Come, champions of dirt and shit. I wonder how you so-called 'best' will fair against a real champion." She released the handle, which zipped back along the string to the Slayer's collar. Her muscles rippled under her skin, resuming their sporadic pumping.

"Here, let's make this more interesting." The Slayer opened her arms, exposing her unarmored torso—normally a heartfelt and welcoming gesture. Here, however, it only served as a crude taunt. "Take your shot." She shook her hips sensually as she teased. It was supposed to be an inviting but ended up looking vulgar. "Or is dodging and gawking all you 'champions' can do?"