:: ONE :: AGATE
Lone survivor, where will you run?
A red arrow, straight out of a gun.
I’ve got you in my sight.
***
Dead eyes. Dull, captivating, lifeless eyes that seemed to pierce a person’s soul. A untold phenomenon where the pupils shift into small specks, and the encompassing irises emit an unearthly glow. It's said to stop a furiously beating heart--attracting countless, uneasy stares of fearful judgement.
She's been told numerous of times that her eyes were something of fascination, set apart from the rest. They were able to morph drastically from a normal, reflective gaze into a void, wicked state.
She’s always wondered why they had this quirk. It always seemed to activate whenever there was strong emotions involved. Nonetheless, it was …show more content…
You did nothin’ of that sort! I hate shitmaking punks like you who make a fucking havoc in my bar!”
She scoffed. The owner was infamously known as the Burly Curmudgeon of the West, someone that most wouldn't want to provoke. Yet, you could say that she wasn't one that feared engaging in a fight. She took pleasure in savoring the thrill of battle--the one and only time you can absolutely demolish a person without dictatorial punishment.
“Calm down, old man. You’ll lose most of your hair if you keep yapping like that,” she sighed, placing her hand on her hip, sending him a sharp gaze. “Don’t think that I’ll sit around like a ditzy, bumbling idiot. I can do more than you think.”
“I knew it…” he said in a mere whisper. “I wasn't hallucinating.”
“Talk louder. No one will take you seriously with your pathetic incohesive mumbling.” She shook her disapprovingly, clicking her tongue.
“I said,” the bar owner started slowly, “you’re one of them! The monster that’s been committing mass genocides!”
Her eyes widened as an icy chill ran up her spine, it felt like it could crack at any moment--killing her and her hopes. “What a...bold accusation to make. What proof do you have?” Her voice lowered a few
Lone survivor, where will you run?
A red arrow, straight out of a gun.
I’ve got you in my sight.
***
Dead eyes. Dull, captivating, lifeless eyes that seemed to pierce a person’s soul. A untold phenomenon where the pupils shift into small specks, and the encompassing irises emit an unearthly glow. It's said to stop a furiously beating heart--attracting countless, uneasy stares of fearful judgement.
She's been told numerous of times that her eyes were something of fascination, set apart from the rest. They were able to morph drastically from a normal, reflective gaze into a void, wicked state.
She’s always wondered why they had this quirk. It always seemed to activate whenever there was strong emotions involved. Nonetheless, it was …show more content…
You did nothin’ of that sort! I hate shitmaking punks like you who make a fucking havoc in my bar!”
She scoffed. The owner was infamously known as the Burly Curmudgeon of the West, someone that most wouldn't want to provoke. Yet, you could say that she wasn't one that feared engaging in a fight. She took pleasure in savoring the thrill of battle--the one and only time you can absolutely demolish a person without dictatorial punishment.
“Calm down, old man. You’ll lose most of your hair if you keep yapping like that,” she sighed, placing her hand on her hip, sending him a sharp gaze. “Don’t think that I’ll sit around like a ditzy, bumbling idiot. I can do more than you think.”
“I knew it…” he said in a mere whisper. “I wasn't hallucinating.”
“Talk louder. No one will take you seriously with your pathetic incohesive mumbling.” She shook her disapprovingly, clicking her tongue.
“I said,” the bar owner started slowly, “you’re one of them! The monster that’s been committing mass genocides!”
Her eyes widened as an icy chill ran up her spine, it felt like it could crack at any moment--killing her and her hopes. “What a...bold accusation to make. What proof do you have?” Her voice lowered a few