Thump. Thump. Thump. Splat.
A man drenched in gore stood in the middle of an abandoned home. Three little fuckers decided to go and try to hide from him here. They acted as if he couldn’t smell them -- their fear. It ran through their bodies and nearly gave off an aura. HABIT found them -- he always found the ones he was hunting down.
It was a job -- some part of a deal, something that would HABIT would gain a few benefits out of. Which was usually a good thing for him, usually. He tends to get what he wants a lot.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Splat.
Blood decorated the walls and the ceilings, viscera in corners of the room and in mismatched splotches against the walls. HABIT was hacking and slashing at the bodies of these people -- a chase was fun, but not when they kept on going forever. He had other things to do. HABIT was angry, purple eyes aglow and claws -- that weren’t there before -- manifesting. Teeth gnashed as he spurted out insults to these dead bodies, and then stopped, huffing and puffing.
What... was that? He sensed someone. That was strange -- he usually felt if someone else was there in an instant.
“ Ẃ̕͠H̵̡҉͏Ó̴͜͢ ̡͠͝Á͜͜R͘͜͝҉̴E̵̢̕ ͟Y͞͏͘҉̛O̷̸̧͞Ų̡̧͢͡?̵̵̡͜͝ ” The entity snarled, voice distorting heavily as he looked to and fro, sniffing the air afterwards. “ I̸̷ ̨͡CA̕N̴͝ ̸̢S̨E̶̕N̸Ş̵̛E̵̶ ́̕͝Y̵OÚ̧̕!͘ C̨͏̢Ǫ͢ M̮̝E͔̩̖̳͔̖͇ ̞̩̦͈̫O̼̯̺̩̹̤U͙͓͕̲͎͖͙̦̹T̺̳̯͉!̮̩̤̗̗ ”
He’s still angry.
