‘Just a little further.’ The metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel was so close, but the shadows were creeping in and threatening to swallow that hope. “Fuck. OFF!” His roar resounded through the treeline and into the clearing, a Beowolf following it as it tumbled across the ground, thrown from the trees. Perry followed closely after it, literally jumping into the small clearing as he bled from a number of wounds. Mostly shallow cuts that just drew blood and bruises, superficial at most. Sending the Grimm rolling across the grass again with a sharp kick to its jaw, he turned around to face the horde that had gathered. While he wasn’t panicking, irritation and anger were still fairly good for drawing in the creatures of the Grimm. With a heavy sigh, he tried to settle his mind as he drew Blast Bicell from its holster and unfolded it. “Well, come on then,” he muttered as he stared into the treeline and saw more black than green.

It was only a small blessing given their numbers, but only minor species of Grimm had hounded him to the clearing. Beowolves, Boarbatusks, and a few Ursas were the monsters that strode forth into the clearing, itching for a taste of human. They weren’t going to get one without a fight. With a roaring boom Perry fired his weapon, the lance head flying like a missle until it impacted against an Ursa. The creature’s head simply ceased to exist as its body fell to the ground mid-charge, sliding to a halt. Roaring in defiance to the overwhelming odds, Perry’s Aura suffused his entire body in a dim glow of blue. Wielding the handle, he swung the attached lance head relentlessly, tearing through any Grimm that tried to approach. Beowolves were left mangled, the wire carving into their flesh, while Boarbatusks were pulped, the lance head crushing them upon contact. He left plenty dead or dying in the space between him and the treelines, but there were always more ready to take the dead’s place. 

As Blast Bicell came together in one piece with a heavy thunk, empty of Dust, Perry twirled the weapon at the approaching Grimm. His breath came harder, the weapon was just a bit heavy in his arms, and the worst had yet to come. “Just my luck…” And then there was no breath for meaningless chatter as the Grimm fell on him. An inevitable tide of shadows that would drown out this one speck of light, but until then, it would burn the darkness around it.