Snippet #2722107

The sound of sirens began to flood the cityscape, echoing amidst the looming darkness that swallowed the streets. The very sound of authority prompted his entrance without much a second thought. Drawing his hood tighter around his countanance, his entry appeared brief and silent, the only sounds betraying his stealthy entrance being that of the chime above the door. He cursed in silence to himself, but realized such to be an inevitable woe faced in a seedy sprawl as this one. The cracked voice of the owner welcoming him fell upon deaf ears as he, instead, cast his glance to and fro; inspecting a vast array of oddities in hopes one stood out amongst the veritable assortment.

Now, amidst all this, it still bode unwell for a man such as he to have wandered in from the coming night swaddled in a tattered onyx cloak mildly soaked in sanguine. How could he ever explain his way out of such an inconvenience? Would there be any sort of explanation found plausible, if even believable?

Actually, the question truly posed: Did it even matter? Did he even intend to try and talk his way out of such a thing?

Not likely.

Instead, he'd find something of interest, were he lucky, and then murder those within before taking his leave. This ramshackle pisspot of a shop existed for one thing, truly, and one thing only. A cover to avoid sight, with an added benefit being the trinkets.

But, beyond all that, there lay little qualms. All in all, this outing merely proved a means to let off a bit of steam. In the mind of a madman such as he, making victims of innocents fell left of his moral compass. He, instead, found it a moral obligation to rub out the myriad lives of those he deemed unfit.

His gaze never met that of the shop keeper, nor the on edge thug more apt to shoot his foot off than get away with anything of real value. Even the anthromorphic being managed to dodge his cunning senses, merely due in part to the fact he'd seen an innumerable plethora of strange creatures in his time.

Moments of browsing brought him an expected disdain as he found nothing of interest. If anything truly of value would have been here, it had likely already long been plucked ripe for the taking some time ago. Instead, all that remained? Dust laden junk. An audible sigh of disappointment left him as he finished scouring a final isle with glass cases.

Only in that instance, with the drones of sirens fading into obscurity, did he begin to make his exit. He'd changed his mind on ending the lives of the putrid whelps inside the building. They'd perish later once he sought to raze the district; or so he had anticipated. Instead, he found himself caught up in discord as the man finally worked up the courage to draw a firearm.

"Alright, old man! I want cash! Whatever's in the drawer! And anything of value! Something, anything, that'll bring in a good chunk of change!" He spat out, a shakey hand holding a very unsteady gun wobbling in the mans direction. It didn't take him but a second later to wheel around and point it haphazardly at Kazura, who'd still maintained his steady pace toward the door.

"And you! Don't take another step. Can't have you flagging down any goddamned pigs." He continued.

And yet Kazura proceeded.

"Are you fuckin' deaf? I told you to stop!" He barked, thumbing the hammer back. "I'll shoot, you piece of trash! I swear I'll shoot, man. Don't make me shoot..." He warned, though a sudden warble in the final words brought a deliciously sadistic sneer of glee to the cloaked individuals lips.

Coward.

Another step and two audible pops filled the shop. Two shots rang out, shattering the store window and the pane glass in the door. Neither shot struck Kazura, though, as his movements managed to deceive eyes. As if a black ink blur moving erratically, he whirled on the spot and began a blinding dash at the man. A single hand of his outstretched as he closed the gap and the man, strangely enough, lurched forward...but not of his own volition. A strange pressure seemed to pull at the man from that very outstretched hand.

They both met in the middle; Kazura standing tall still very well hidden by his cloak whilst the man found himself silenced by a palm. He'd been captured by his very face in that palm which squeezed at his jaw and bowed the bridge of his nose. For all intents and purposes, his very face seemed, in simple terms, squished within that unrelenting grasp and slowly, so very slowly, did Kazura raise him from the floor into the air above.

"I made you shoot. You've a very poor aim, though. Even had I not dipped and dodged, you'd have missed." The words were laced with venom; every bit as malefic and terrifying as his appearance. "I'd say you were terrified before you even drew that weapon. You seem young, and green, for something as simple as a robbery. Your first?" He continued, ridiculing the man with glee behind the toxic verbatim. "You've even gone and pissed yourself..." He continued, nose scrunched with a grimace resting upon his visage. The noxious smell of it overwhelming as it ran the length of his pantleg and pooled on the floor beneath him.

His grip only tightened whilst the man tried to wail out in pain, but could not.

"You made poor judgement today. You could have simply shot the man and took the money, and his belongings. I'd have done nothing. I've already slaughtered a great many on my way here; the authorities are already, and likely will be, tied up for some time." He explained. His gaze then fell to the young, rather tiny, female creature of sorts. "Probably could have shot her too. But that would have been a larger gamble. She's likely far from mundane." He speculated. "Regardless, you made a grave mistake in shooting at me. And now, in these fleeting final moments, you'll learn what it means to experience..." He prattled on, grip growing ever the more fierce.

"True..."

And suddenly the resounding sounds of bones collapsing, and grating across one another, as he pulverized the mans jaw within his grasp.

"Fear..."

Followed by what could only be likened to an apple, or an orange, or any other fruit having a portion of itself crushed; pulp and viscera spattering the immediate area. A lone tooth falling to the wayside.

His limp body fell to the floor with not much more than an idle thud, eyes having rolled back into their sockets moments before the horrific exhibition. Truly, it could not be discerned whether he'd died from pain, and shock, or if his heart had stopped in the moments before out of absolute terror.

Regardless, Kazura plucked a few pieces of bodily grit from his fingers before following up with a swift few shakes of his hand. As if the very act of having such on his hand struck him as disgusting.

Throughout all of this...the store manager had fallen faint, much to Kazura's delight, albeit perhaps chagrin as well. Weak stomaches always displeased him. Still, it could only be a blessing in disguise not to have authorities swarming the location. All that remained, now, though? The girl.

"As for you." He slowly murmured, turning his attention her way. From beneath the cowl of that very cloak, to gleaming gems of madness lingered; peering upon her...bleeding through her.

"What to do with you..."