Thursday, July 20, 2017

100 Words a Day 1086

His face contorted in rage and his large scorpion tail raised over his head, casting its shadow over the bound man as it loomed over him.

“Not so tough now are you?” the fleshwarper asked. “No defiant slogans. No slaughtered guards.”

The man said nothing. The fleshwarper slapped him with his large ape-arm, sending the man to his knees.

“Under normal circumstances I would cut you to bits and use you for spare parts. Unfortunately I cannot risk your revolutionary streak contaminating my soldiers.”

He stalked a circle around his kneeling prisoner, scorpion tale hovering in anticipation of the kill.

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