CURSED WITH HORRIFYING POWER
for the sake of my goddess
It was the dead of night, the crickets were singing and the sound of owls could be heard 'hooting' throughout the night. Everything was peaceful before a blaze roared through the large, lucrative farm. Blackthorne held a torch in his left hand and his mace in his right hand. He stood outside of the door of the farm belonging to Mr. Jekis. Blackthorne had received a paper contract from the other farm-holders to eliminate Mr. Jekis' crops. He was making too much money from his crops and the jealousy of the others caused them to hire a man of much loathing; who goes by the name of Blackthorne.
Mr. Jekis runs out of the house and a look of horror could be seen as he gazed on at the blaze of his farm with a dark silhouette of the one responsible for it in the foreground. "How could you do this to me!" he said out loud in a non-rhetorical manner. One of his young daughters ran out of the house and gasped loudly, tears rolling down her face as she saw the hard work of her mother and father burning to ash before her.
Mr. Jekis turned around and shouted to his daughter. "Jessica, go back inside! It's not safe here!" he shouted before the mother of the house-hold walked outside and grabbed Jessica and returned to the house. He turned to look back towards Blackthorne, anger and frustration clearly evident upon his face.
"I have a wife and child to support! You!" he said as he reached over to grab a gardening hoe and held it in both hands; trembling as he stood in the presence of Blackthorne. The silhouette grew larger and larger as Blackthorne approached closer and closer. "Don't come any closer! I'm warning you!" Mr. Jekis said before Blackthorne came within arm's reach of the man of the farm. A loud screaming could be heard as Blackthorne came near, causing the head of his mace to multiply and drop down, clanging upon one another.
The man swung the hoe only for it's wooden handle to break upon Blackthorne's armor. He continued his assault with the broken wooden gardening tool, having each strike cause a piece of the garden tool to break smaller and smaller until it begins to cause his hands to bleed. He looked at his hands for a moment before looking towards Blackthorne with a look of horror.
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WORDS: 406
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