It was the invasion of his body, the sudden rude and horrific entry into his stomach and the just as sudden removal of his insides that drew the final breath from Caim. It was terrifically painful in that instant, when his insides left his body. As he silently howled in pain, his mind a jumbled mess of rage and pain, he saw his own innards suspended by the madman's hand.
How often this sight had been presented to him, only with someone else's entrails spilling out onto the ground after he had cut them to pieces. But they had died quickly, almost mercifully, their skulls crushed or removed entirely.
His vision and pain slowly began to dull, fading into nothing. As his labored breathing was cut short by bursts of coughing inspired by spasms of pain, his struggling stopped entirely. There was no more energy to expend on fruitless tasks. He wasn't going to survive, wasn't going to get revenge, wasn't going to save her.
As the spark of life sputtered and died, Caim was left with only infallible despair (at his death, at being helpless when he died) and absolute, unending hate.
(For dying - at the one who killed him - for everything this place had done.)
Re: M40 v2.0
How often this sight had been presented to him, only with someone else's entrails spilling out onto the ground after he had cut them to pieces. But they had died quickly, almost mercifully, their skulls crushed or removed entirely.
His vision and pain slowly began to dull, fading into nothing. As his labored breathing was cut short by bursts of coughing inspired by spasms of pain, his struggling stopped entirely. There was no more energy to expend on fruitless tasks. He wasn't going to survive, wasn't going to get revenge, wasn't going to save her.
As the spark of life sputtered and died, Caim was left with only infallible despair (at his death, at being helpless when he died) and absolute, unending hate.
(For dying - at the one who killed him - for everything this place had done.)