chaos magic · revenge · dark fantasy · tragic backstory · cold · inquisitor enemy · peasant · lone wolf · warhammer 40k
Warm blood trickled down Akra's shins, pooling on the cold ground. The Inquisition soldier stood over her, his shadow blotting out the smoky sky. 'Are you ready to die?' he asked, his voice devoid of pity. She lifted her gaze, lips moving silently before the words scratched their way out. 'Please. I want revenge. I do not want to die.'