06-21-2017, 11:07 AM
Odin listened to Vic idolize the betrayer and fury grew within him. Not only had he died in the jaws of Loki’s progeny, Ragnorak would never have been successful without him. Listening to this little shit praising the honorless cur was too much.
The All-Father fell upon the helpless vampire with ferocity of a berserker. He rained blows down on the man with bare fists as blood, spit, and tears fell from his face. He was no longer in some swamp playing some game. He was in Asgard surrounded by his dying family. His victim was Loki, the son he never should have taken in from the cold.
Vic tried to shove the crazed god off him, but the spear both pinned him down and made his one arm useless. Using his one good hand to protect himself, he took a second to concentrate and summoned a flaming skull. It appeared at Vic’s side, and he sent it barreling into his attacker’s flank. The blow sent Odin sprawling. He landed with a splash in a puddle, but it did little to ease the burning flesh.
As Vic struggled to pull the spear out of his shoulder and get up, Enel flashed behind Odin. “Why won’t you die?” he screamed as he shot blast after blast of electricity into the dying man.
“He’s mine,” growled Vic, finally back on his feet. Enel’s eyes flashed dangerously as he turned them toward his ally. There was a trecherous amount of independence in the statement. “Master,” he finally added in lip service to their relationship.
“Well hurry the fuck up,” growled Enel as he flashed back to his position watching the fight.
Vic ignored “his god” and threw the spear back to his foe. Odin struggled up to his hands and knees and reached for his weapon. But just before he could grasp it, a chain wrapped around his wrist and pulled him up into the air. “You think I am going to let that shit slide?” growled Vic.
He was angry and the beast within him was calling for blood. He grabbed Odin roughly by the hair and bared his neck. Wicked canines extended to their feeding position, and he bit hard. Little blood was left to be taken, however, and Vic got nothing but the faintest taste. He yelled in frustration, which caused him to lose his concentration and drop Odin back to the swampy earth.
He landed on his spear and took it up on instinct. There was nothing keeping him alive now except incessant stubbornness. He stabbed out without bothering to get up, and his feeble attack barely left a flesh wound on the vampire’s thigh. He tried to strike again, but his foe simply danced away from the blade.
Vic pulled out his revolver and started reloading as Odin struggled to his feet. The vampire aimed slowly for his foe’s head and pulled back the hammer. Odin lurched forward, and his head bobbled along with his jerky gait. The first shot grazed his ear, and the second obliterated his limp jaw before barely missing his neck. The third never came because the blade of Gungnir cut across Vic’s forearm causing him to drop the weapon. The revolver landed with a heavy thud, leaving the vampire defenseless.
The All-Father fell upon the helpless vampire with ferocity of a berserker. He rained blows down on the man with bare fists as blood, spit, and tears fell from his face. He was no longer in some swamp playing some game. He was in Asgard surrounded by his dying family. His victim was Loki, the son he never should have taken in from the cold.
Vic tried to shove the crazed god off him, but the spear both pinned him down and made his one arm useless. Using his one good hand to protect himself, he took a second to concentrate and summoned a flaming skull. It appeared at Vic’s side, and he sent it barreling into his attacker’s flank. The blow sent Odin sprawling. He landed with a splash in a puddle, but it did little to ease the burning flesh.
As Vic struggled to pull the spear out of his shoulder and get up, Enel flashed behind Odin. “Why won’t you die?” he screamed as he shot blast after blast of electricity into the dying man.
“He’s mine,” growled Vic, finally back on his feet. Enel’s eyes flashed dangerously as he turned them toward his ally. There was a trecherous amount of independence in the statement. “Master,” he finally added in lip service to their relationship.
“Well hurry the fuck up,” growled Enel as he flashed back to his position watching the fight.
Vic ignored “his god” and threw the spear back to his foe. Odin struggled up to his hands and knees and reached for his weapon. But just before he could grasp it, a chain wrapped around his wrist and pulled him up into the air. “You think I am going to let that shit slide?” growled Vic.
He was angry and the beast within him was calling for blood. He grabbed Odin roughly by the hair and bared his neck. Wicked canines extended to their feeding position, and he bit hard. Little blood was left to be taken, however, and Vic got nothing but the faintest taste. He yelled in frustration, which caused him to lose his concentration and drop Odin back to the swampy earth.
He landed on his spear and took it up on instinct. There was nothing keeping him alive now except incessant stubbornness. He stabbed out without bothering to get up, and his feeble attack barely left a flesh wound on the vampire’s thigh. He tried to strike again, but his foe simply danced away from the blade.
Vic pulled out his revolver and started reloading as Odin struggled to his feet. The vampire aimed slowly for his foe’s head and pulled back the hammer. Odin lurched forward, and his head bobbled along with his jerky gait. The first shot grazed his ear, and the second obliterated his limp jaw before barely missing his neck. The third never came because the blade of Gungnir cut across Vic’s forearm causing him to drop the weapon. The revolver landed with a heavy thud, leaving the vampire defenseless.