#e4t6

Daredevil could smell the blood, but he couldn’t hear what was causing the death and destruction. Worried, he made his way through the environment, leaping from structure to structure when able and finally alighting on a close by building.

He could only sense how the creature stood calmly in the waters. He couldn’t see how the water turned to blood around it, but he could smell the stench of death as the thing continued to wade in the melted snow. 

What was it?

The creature seemed to sense Daredevil and it threw out a hand at him. He dove to the side and a spray of bloody water washed over where he’d been crouching. It chased him, with the water and he continued to keep out of the way until he reached the other side of a building. It paused for a long moment and spoke to him in a language he didn’t understand. He shook his head, having no idea what language it even could have used. 

“Sorry, I don’t speak asshole!” he called to it before he stepped out of cover, threw his billy club, and dove to the side. Just as he suspected, the creature tried for the water again and ignored the club when it looked like it had been thrown wide. The club ricocheted and and struck the creature in the back of the head. He caught the club and found more cover.