“Oh, aye. We do.” Eric summoned his scythe with a sweep of his arm and broke into a horrible grin. His grip tightened on the handle. “If it’s me ‘r ye, kid, yer the one tha’s no’ gonna make it tae tomorrow!"
“Gh—!” Unable to match the death god’s speed, Ezra ended up taking the brute impact to his stomach, his abdominal muscles tensing as he forced the air out of his lungs. Not only was he preternaturally fast, but he was strong, too. Could it be that he overestimated himself? With bared teeth, he threw a punch of his own — this time aiming for the man’s throat.
This time, it connected. Eric choked and staggered back, clasping a hand over his throat. He rubbed it sorely and brandished his scythe. “Go’ tae hand it tae ye, lad.” He growled, “Ye go’ a lo’ o’ nerve, layin’ a hand on a reaper. All it’d take is one swing o’ m’ scythe, an’ ye’d die.” His eyes narrowed. “Are ye sure ye wanna fight wi' me?”
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blastedbackbone-archive reblogged this from hanakotobawakodoku and added:
“… Tch!” Immediately, Ezra took off after his target, his boots digging into the ground as he propelled himself forward...
hanakotobawakodoku reblogged this from blastedbackbone-archive and added:
Eric’s eyes widened slightly. Had he hunted him down?! How did he know his name! They’d never met before, had they? "If...