05-29-2006, 06:28 PM
Garlic let himself be bandaged by Trunks without major complaint, a testament to his foul mood. Another fight come and gone without a single one of them dead. Each one of them were burned into his memory, sitting in that nice cushy room in his brain were the dead walking went to wait and be called on. Most especially that midget with his razor disk of ki. When his eyes closed for the night, sleep claimed him almost instantly. Tomorrow had better be an improvement. The dreams of violence and blood assured him like a soft lullaby? that it would.
***
His blood caked hand removed its self from Bujins mutilated intestines, and a throaty laugh followed the blue warrior?s corpse to the ground. Garlic?s delight was comparable to a child on Christmas, if a bit more macabre. The goblins shining eyes rotated around the barn floor, long since carpeted with gore, searching with blissful hope for one more. Just one more to strike off the list. Santa?s wish list had been whittled down indeed this Yuletide morning, but if only one more... especially him. Then on cue, as perfectly timed as if they practiced beforehand, he stood silhouetted in the doorway. Tapion. At his shoulder was another of his kind? shorter? a name floated to the top of his mind. Minoshia. Yes they had met once too. He was still alive? Well, not for long.
"Ah, finally, morning,? Trunks whispered from behind. And Garlic opened his eyes. Disappointment hit him in the gut, softened only by the hunger that already dwelled there. The miniature demon let his allies scurry around him in their morning routines without half a notice. Bread and water consumed his attention, but not more than his dreams, played out bitterly before his sleep crusted eyes.
?? someone is coming!? a voice yelled, maybe Seventeen?s, snapping him from his self-indulgence. Garlic was already on his feet striding with only the faintest hint of limp to the open barn door, but Trunks was in front aiming down his gun. Garlic almost saw the tension melt form the half saiyan?s shoulders. He muttered something he didn?t quite catch.
?Trunks!?? the figure called out. The voice was very? familiar.
***
His blood caked hand removed its self from Bujins mutilated intestines, and a throaty laugh followed the blue warrior?s corpse to the ground. Garlic?s delight was comparable to a child on Christmas, if a bit more macabre. The goblins shining eyes rotated around the barn floor, long since carpeted with gore, searching with blissful hope for one more. Just one more to strike off the list. Santa?s wish list had been whittled down indeed this Yuletide morning, but if only one more... especially him. Then on cue, as perfectly timed as if they practiced beforehand, he stood silhouetted in the doorway. Tapion. At his shoulder was another of his kind? shorter? a name floated to the top of his mind. Minoshia. Yes they had met once too. He was still alive? Well, not for long.
"Ah, finally, morning,? Trunks whispered from behind. And Garlic opened his eyes. Disappointment hit him in the gut, softened only by the hunger that already dwelled there. The miniature demon let his allies scurry around him in their morning routines without half a notice. Bread and water consumed his attention, but not more than his dreams, played out bitterly before his sleep crusted eyes.
?? someone is coming!? a voice yelled, maybe Seventeen?s, snapping him from his self-indulgence. Garlic was already on his feet striding with only the faintest hint of limp to the open barn door, but Trunks was in front aiming down his gun. Garlic almost saw the tension melt form the half saiyan?s shoulders. He muttered something he didn?t quite catch.
?Trunks!?? the figure called out. The voice was very? familiar.
Sinners make the best Saints
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