VELVET BLOOD - Blood Moon - #04
The atmosphere within the deserted cathedral was heavy with the pervasive aroma of centuries-old dust, mingled with the overpowering, sickly sweetness of lingering decay that seemed to permeate every corner. Pale moonlight streamed through the fractured pieces of stained glass, scattering fragmented, multicolored rays of light that danced in jagged patterns across the uneven, damaged surface of the cracked stone floor.
The heavy silence didn't just break; it exploded. Two figures surged from the suffocating gloom, the lethal glint of knives carving through the dark. David moved in a blur of practiced instinct, twisting his body as the blades hissed past him, missing his skin by a fraction of an inch.
In one fluid motion, he closed the distance, stepping deep into the first guard's reach and unleashing a devastating punch—a thunderous collision of bone and flesh—that launched the man backward, sending him crashing violently into the jagged debris.
Beside him, Monique didn’t just move; she vanished. One moment she was standing still, a silhouette of gothic elegance; the next, she was a blur of obsidian motion. She reappeared instantaneously behind the second guard, the displacement of air whistling in his ear.
He turned, his eyes widening in a flash of primal terror, but he was already a dead man.
With a casual, almost bored flick of her wrist, Monique struck. The impact sounded like a thunderclap, sending the man hurtling across the nave. He crashed into a rotted pew, the wood splintering under the force of her unnatural strength.
David paused, his weapon leveled, staring at the spot where she had just been. "Remind me never to annoy you," he breathed, his voice echoing in the hollow expanse.
Monique glanced back over her shoulder, a predatory glint shimmering in her eyes. "You already did," she purred, her voice a velvet caress laced with iron.
The moment of levity was severed by a low, guttural moan that swelled into a cacophony of screams. From the yawning shadows of the transepts and the depths of the crypts, a swarm of undead soldiers emerged.
CLICK HERE to read VELVET BLOOD - Blood Moon - #04:http://www.mccomix.com/members/gallery3/index.php/Mitru/Velvet-Blood/Blood-Moon

Read more... ONLY in MCcomix.com
The heavy silence didn't just break; it exploded. Two figures surged from the suffocating gloom, the lethal glint of knives carving through the dark. David moved in a blur of practiced instinct, twisting his body as the blades hissed past him, missing his skin by a fraction of an inch.
In one fluid motion, he closed the distance, stepping deep into the first guard's reach and unleashing a devastating punch—a thunderous collision of bone and flesh—that launched the man backward, sending him crashing violently into the jagged debris.
Beside him, Monique didn’t just move; she vanished. One moment she was standing still, a silhouette of gothic elegance; the next, she was a blur of obsidian motion. She reappeared instantaneously behind the second guard, the displacement of air whistling in his ear.
He turned, his eyes widening in a flash of primal terror, but he was already a dead man.
With a casual, almost bored flick of her wrist, Monique struck. The impact sounded like a thunderclap, sending the man hurtling across the nave. He crashed into a rotted pew, the wood splintering under the force of her unnatural strength.
David paused, his weapon leveled, staring at the spot where she had just been. "Remind me never to annoy you," he breathed, his voice echoing in the hollow expanse.
Monique glanced back over her shoulder, a predatory glint shimmering in her eyes. "You already did," she purred, her voice a velvet caress laced with iron.
The moment of levity was severed by a low, guttural moan that swelled into a cacophony of screams. From the yawning shadows of the transepts and the depths of the crypts, a swarm of undead soldiers emerged.
CLICK HERE to read VELVET BLOOD - Blood Moon - #04:http://www.mccomix.com/members/gallery3/index.php/Mitru/Velvet-Blood/Blood-Moon

Read more... ONLY in MCcomix.com