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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=#87c735][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Dungeon -- The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria[/right][/sub][/color]
[hr][color=#87c735]"Mmphf."[/color]

Alex wiped his face in a sloppy series of movements that only seemed to make things worse, mixing the blood that congealed on his sleeves with hot tears and snot that ran wild. The fury that radiated through his body was overwhelming, to the point he was sure it was the angriest he'd been in his life. It was the type of anger that caused a crash of involuntary physical reactions with it, the kind that would have left him shaking had it not been for the single, unified desire between every thought in his mind to hurt what was causing it. 

It was enormous, large on a scale you'd only see towering over silhouettes of adult men in diagrams, or museum skeletons that were stories high. He realized he'd never taken Pariah's threats seriously before it became a true struggle of life and death. That [i]thing[/i] was terrifying, gigantic on a level he had never truly comprehended prior to that point. It was the sort of monster that would terrorize a child in a nightmare, the sort where if they tried to run away, they'd find their movement sluggish, as if suspended in thick liquid, unable to do anything but close their eyes until the pain stopped. 

Another charged arrow struck the shoulder of that abomination and seemed to have barely scratched the surface. It made Alex remember the nightmares he once had as a child, ones where he tried so hard to fight back, only to fail. He suppressed those thoughts just as he suppressed his entire body lashing out. Not for accuracy, as that demon's size had made that of little concern, but for himself. He had to brace himself for his newest plan, the one rational thought among a new and animalistic state of mind that had overtaken him in combat once more. There were two sides, one he was in and one he wasn't. Both sides would try as hard as possible to kill the other. His mind didn't repeat that thought but rather embodied it, overpowering any negative emotion besides the anger that steadied every nerve in his body.

An arrow began to form in his fingertips. The others were working faster than him, taking bigger risks. As a ranged attacker he could use that to his benefit. Keeping the arrow drawn, he let it swell further and further, to an almost blinding shade of emerald green. He just had to ignore the thoughts of watching his the others get mutilated in front of him one by one. His role was to provide as much damage as possible, and he had been granted precious time to do just that with no immediate danger. 

[color=#87c735]"Kill or be killed,"[/color] he muttered, voice barely audible. Was he responding to something another person had shouted out, or addressing one of the dozens of horrible thoughts that swarmed his mind? He didn't know. As he uttered the words a trickle of saliva dripped and mingled with blood that wasn't his around his chin. The emerald light made every streak and stain on his face glow in an almost sinister light. 

The arrow had swelled so far it was crackling now, enveloping his entire body in light. He'd never done this before, he realized. There was always some other threat that needed to be taken care of, or some tank that had neglected to guard him for long enough. But he wasn't afraid about it. His feelings were different, ones that radiated with the light surrounding him. They were dreamlike, almost. Ones that yearned to kill the bad monster. 

His body crashed from the recoil and energy expenditure as he set the arrow streaking like a meteor. Although he didn't see the blast, he heard it, giving him the strength to get back up. He was going to do it again, no matter how many times it would take.
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