07-04-2018, 10:49 PM
A whirlwind of ashen dust and charred debris hurtled at gale-force speed from Link’s balletic spin, thrusting Pennywise backward until It was forced to dig Its claws into the cracked earth to slow down, the clownish creature’s talons leaving deep, jagged gouges in their wake. Regaining Its footing, Pennywise gave a dizzying shake of Its head to rid Its costume of rust-colored grit, a movement accompanied by the silvery, sweet jingling of bells. Hatred colored the fiend’s eyes as It eyed up the Hylian warrior, red-painted features twisting into a snarl.
“Tsk, tsk, pretty-boy…” It ground out, words grating like a saw cutting through bone. “Your buddy isn’t here to help you. Best give up while the getting is good.”
The Hero of Time remained silent as always, still recovering from both his spin attack and the teeth lodged in his forehead. Blood trailed into his eyes from the ugly, weltering cuts, dripping like fresh warpaint down his cheeks and chin. Adjusting his grip on the Master Sword, Link tracked the clown’s movements as Pennywise shifted into a feline crouch, Its long limbs and elastic spine ready to pounce.
Just as It made to lunge forward, however, an enormous, meaty leg got in the way, the staples cinching the flesh together straining grotesquely against an amalgamation of rotting skin and muscle. A purple butcher’s apron was half-draped over one thick thigh, riddled with bullet holes and flapping in the wind.
Looking up, Pennywise could see that the apron didn’t really leave much to imagination. In fact, if the apron was a deceased relative of imagination’s, then imagination had been left out of the will altogether. Nothing was hidden by that flimsy garment!
“Mind if I cut in?” Butcher Jak asked, the rhinestones decorating his meat cleaver twinkling prettily (all orange and yellow and brilliant from the scattered building fires) as it swung mightily downward.
Pennywise jerked to the side, the massive blade just barely failing to sever Its head from Its shoulders. Instead, the clown’s fiery-red hair was suddenly smoothed back across Its bulbous scalp as if by a slight breeze. Careening around, the circus terror lashed out with all Its might, claws and rows upon rows of teeth sinking wetly into the bend of the Butcher’s knee.
“Ow!” The towering demon yelped, raising his leg and attempting to shake the comparatively little Pennywise off. “Leggo, you damn ankle-biter!”
It did not let go. The creature held on quite literally by the skin of Its teeth, talon-tipped fingers dragging mercilessly across the Butcher’s leg as It began to climb up the demon lord’s body. Whenever Its claws grazed over one of the staples holding the Butcher’s mass together, Pennywise ripped them out in a fit of fury, cackling madly.
For a moment, Link watched all this happen with a curious mixture of amusement and disgust on his face. The clown’s face was twisted like tissue paper to the side, flapping about like the flimsy material of a mask, Its lips peeled back over the creature’s devil-red gums. No semblance of a cheery circus performer was left, only exposed gums and hundreds of serrated chips of bone.
Butcher Jak was no better. His stitched-together body was even more abominable in motion, rolls of decaying flesh jiggling around and his bedazzled cleaver waving in the air. Still, the Butcher was Link's ally and obviously in need of help. Notching an arrow, Link squinted as he waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. Seeing an opening, he hauled the bowstring back almost to his shoulder, arms straining from the enormous effort. Just as he prepared to loosen his grip and let the bolt fly, however, he was interrupted by a thunderous, world-shattering BANG!
Bright, nerve-searing pain erupted in the Hylian hero’s shoulder, the force of it nearly sending him to his knees. By some blessing granted by the great goddess, Link remained standing, his bow discarded on the ground where he’d dropped it in his shock. He clutched at the wound with a shaking hand, breath hissing through gritted teeth as he felt out the freshly-made hole in his arm. It wept blood, the warm, sticky fluid staining his tunic a dark red.
Movement in Link’s peripheral vision drew his gaze. Standing tall, one foot propped atop his overturned and partially-crushed motorcycle, Judge Jak blew a cooling breath over the barrel of his standard black Lawgiver. A smirk quirked on his lips, a hint of good humor despite the solid set of the man’s jaw.
“You’ve got guts, kid, I’ll give you that. But no one escapes the long arm of the law,” the Judge deliberately took aim, the metal of his gun glinting dangerously. “And I am the law.”
Time seemed to slow down. The Judge pulled the trigger, a screaming incendiary round streaking toward the boy. The Hylian’s hand fled from his shoulder, grabbing onto his shield and bringing it to the fore. In a second’s time the two forces had collided, a raging inferno roaring to life between them.
“Tsk, tsk, pretty-boy…” It ground out, words grating like a saw cutting through bone. “Your buddy isn’t here to help you. Best give up while the getting is good.”
The Hero of Time remained silent as always, still recovering from both his spin attack and the teeth lodged in his forehead. Blood trailed into his eyes from the ugly, weltering cuts, dripping like fresh warpaint down his cheeks and chin. Adjusting his grip on the Master Sword, Link tracked the clown’s movements as Pennywise shifted into a feline crouch, Its long limbs and elastic spine ready to pounce.
Just as It made to lunge forward, however, an enormous, meaty leg got in the way, the staples cinching the flesh together straining grotesquely against an amalgamation of rotting skin and muscle. A purple butcher’s apron was half-draped over one thick thigh, riddled with bullet holes and flapping in the wind.
Looking up, Pennywise could see that the apron didn’t really leave much to imagination. In fact, if the apron was a deceased relative of imagination’s, then imagination had been left out of the will altogether. Nothing was hidden by that flimsy garment!
“Mind if I cut in?” Butcher Jak asked, the rhinestones decorating his meat cleaver twinkling prettily (all orange and yellow and brilliant from the scattered building fires) as it swung mightily downward.
Pennywise jerked to the side, the massive blade just barely failing to sever Its head from Its shoulders. Instead, the clown’s fiery-red hair was suddenly smoothed back across Its bulbous scalp as if by a slight breeze. Careening around, the circus terror lashed out with all Its might, claws and rows upon rows of teeth sinking wetly into the bend of the Butcher’s knee.
“Ow!” The towering demon yelped, raising his leg and attempting to shake the comparatively little Pennywise off. “Leggo, you damn ankle-biter!”
It did not let go. The creature held on quite literally by the skin of Its teeth, talon-tipped fingers dragging mercilessly across the Butcher’s leg as It began to climb up the demon lord’s body. Whenever Its claws grazed over one of the staples holding the Butcher’s mass together, Pennywise ripped them out in a fit of fury, cackling madly.
For a moment, Link watched all this happen with a curious mixture of amusement and disgust on his face. The clown’s face was twisted like tissue paper to the side, flapping about like the flimsy material of a mask, Its lips peeled back over the creature’s devil-red gums. No semblance of a cheery circus performer was left, only exposed gums and hundreds of serrated chips of bone.
Butcher Jak was no better. His stitched-together body was even more abominable in motion, rolls of decaying flesh jiggling around and his bedazzled cleaver waving in the air. Still, the Butcher was Link's ally and obviously in need of help. Notching an arrow, Link squinted as he waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. Seeing an opening, he hauled the bowstring back almost to his shoulder, arms straining from the enormous effort. Just as he prepared to loosen his grip and let the bolt fly, however, he was interrupted by a thunderous, world-shattering BANG!
Bright, nerve-searing pain erupted in the Hylian hero’s shoulder, the force of it nearly sending him to his knees. By some blessing granted by the great goddess, Link remained standing, his bow discarded on the ground where he’d dropped it in his shock. He clutched at the wound with a shaking hand, breath hissing through gritted teeth as he felt out the freshly-made hole in his arm. It wept blood, the warm, sticky fluid staining his tunic a dark red.
Movement in Link’s peripheral vision drew his gaze. Standing tall, one foot propped atop his overturned and partially-crushed motorcycle, Judge Jak blew a cooling breath over the barrel of his standard black Lawgiver. A smirk quirked on his lips, a hint of good humor despite the solid set of the man’s jaw.
“You’ve got guts, kid, I’ll give you that. But no one escapes the long arm of the law,” the Judge deliberately took aim, the metal of his gun glinting dangerously. “And I am the law.”
Time seemed to slow down. The Judge pulled the trigger, a screaming incendiary round streaking toward the boy. The Hylian’s hand fled from his shoulder, grabbing onto his shield and bringing it to the fore. In a second’s time the two forces had collided, a raging inferno roaring to life between them.
Quote:850 words - Google Docs
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