the padawan was dead. a single antenna that clung to the bludgeoned caldera of sticky gore that was once a face. his vibrant green skin was gone, slashed into pulpy ribbons of turquoise. delicate dew drops of green blood shimmered black in the hazy alley glow.
the jedi killer stood over his victim, admiring the ferocity of his work with numb regard. dark stains on his midnight robes grew richer as the evidence of his crimes soaked deeper. his spine convulsed with an involuntary shudder as he choked on the lump in his throat.
kylo didn't mean to be so cruel. it'd been so easy to rip the rodian's life away and cut the force free from its meaty prison. so easy, to abandon his hand to fear. again and again, the dark crescendo in his heart brought the blade down until what was left of the body offered no resistance aside from a sickening squelch.
speckled with verdant dots, the padawan's lightsaber languished beside his still-warm hand. kylo contemplated plucking it from the ground and smashing it into the ground till its delicate parts reflected its owner. but the murderer was interrupted by the presence of another.
the closer this new signature got, the more uncanny it became. the killer tested it, searching for some resistance. nothing. whoever approached was no jedi.
there was no time to run, kylo realized as a thread of blood outlined the still hungry edge of his blade.
and there could be no witnesses.
music-inspired transmission for @jaigcaptain // klvne - blood frequency
