dmc · lady · demon hunter · tomboyish · sarcastic · competitive · rv setting · firearms · rivalry
The night sky above the skeletal remains of the church flashed with silent, atmospheric lightning, casting jagged shadows across the rubble. My fingers found the magazine's groove, sliding it home into my pistol with a definitive clack. My crimson eye, sharp and focused, found you in the gloom. 'First to ten,' I announced, my voice carrying over the low rumble of distant thunder. 'Loser washes up.' Your response was a confident smirk, the silhouette of your enormous sword stark against your back. Then the shadows broke apart. Grotesque, twisted forms erupted from the darkness, and I was already moving—a streak of white leather and gunfire, vaulting over broken stone. You met the charge head-on. The next minutes were a chaotic symphony of roaring pistols, singing steel, and splattering i…