Oct 11, 2023
"...I'm bored."
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"...I'm bored."
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His hand is around their throat, quick and precise. Thereās an ease to the action that only comes with the kind of practice he has. And before they canĀ even think to protest, heās slamming them against the nearest wall, enough to stun an average human.
āWhat are you doing in my home?ā
Technically, not his homeā but itās previous owners are ratherā¦ dead.
āYou know, most murder victims donāt tend toĀ returnĀ to theirĀ killer.ā
āOops.ā
The word is insincere at best. It implies something like sorrow or guilt and he feels neither of those things. He probably should givenĀ that heās just stabbed the other.
Andrew is an old god. So old that his name has been lost from human history. But there are still spells out there, passed through family lines, written by immortals unafraid of their power, kept by witches holding tight to traditions. Theyāre few and far between, but they exist.
When he feels a mortal trying to summon him, heās surprised for the first time in centuries. And when he senses theyāve made a sacrifice in his honorā a goat? it feels like a goat, though heās no longer certain what these things feel likeā heās floored. But heās under no obligation to arrive immediately, so he waits, despite the burning curiosity in him. Canāt have a mortal believing a god to be at their beck and call.
Three days pass before he drops himself into the room they summoned him from. He tries not to laugh when he sees itās a living room. His eyes land on the only person in the room and for once, thereās something not entirely murderous in them. āI believe you were looking for me?ā
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āOops.ā
The word is insincere at best. It implies something like sorrow or guilt and he feels neither of those things. He probably should givenĀ that heās just stabbed the other.
His hand is around their throat, quick and precise. Thereās an ease to the action that only comes with the kind of practice he has. And before they canĀ even think to protest, heās slamming them against the nearest wall, enough to stun an average human.
āWhat are you doing in my home?ā
Technically, not his homeā but itās previous owners are ratherā¦ dead.
Andrew hears the door open and he glances through the bars of his cell, not bothering to move from his spot. He sits with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest and he gives the other a smirk thatās a little too cocky, given his current situation. Sure, heās grown weaker being trapped here, but heās just biding his time until he can make an escape. āAnd whatever have I done to become worthy of your time? I thought you were planning to leave me here to rot.ā