Descent

    Two characters stood in dank, dark cave. One wore a plaid button shirt and with jeans. One wears tattered clothes with an equally tattered cloak. All black, though not from intentional design, but a power warping his whole appearance. The most prevalent features being the razor teeth, the circles in his eyes, and a horn protruding from his head. He wore a look of shock and confusion upon his face.

    "I'm the bad guy...?" The question hung in the air like a corpse from a tree. "After all I've done, all I've given up... I'm the bad guy?" Fury, grief, and betrayal bubbled up to the surface in his last sentence. "I dedicated my life to helping others. To give to others what was never given to me." A growl rose in his voice as his feelings rose. "And you have the nerve to call me 'the bad guy'?!" The energy that twisted him into his current form began to emanate and waft around him.

    The man who stood before him unconsciously took a step back. The cloaked man darted within a breath of the other man. Being within each others space, face-to-face, the only places they could look were each others' eyes. The plaid man stared into the eyes of the twisted man and saw an abyss stare back. "Where do you think you're going?" An unsettling stillness was present in the twisted man's voice and presence. The plaid man was unable to speak, his voice caught in his chest. An unsettling smile then crossed the twisted man's face.

    "You know what... I'm done. I'm done doing what is best for others. Done catering to other people. Time to do what I want, what is best for me...! Starting with this!" The twisted man suddenly lunged at the man in plaid. To sudden for the man to even let out a scream... The only thing left of that man was a bloody stained piece of plaid cloth.