|User:||truesin_rpg (posted by truesin_npc)|
|Subject:||On the Battlefield|
Warren was poetry in motion with a sword in his hands. Decades of training, both in America and in Japan, made him one of the most dangerous men to ever wield a katana. The fact that he had this blade custom-made with a durable brand of silver made the vampire hunter even more dangerous.
Every time the blade sliced into undead flesh, primal screams echoed into the night. Warren couldn’t even see the carnage he was dishing out, the sword and his body a blur as he spun and ducked, side-stepped and twirled. Warren would’ve been horribly overmatched against two vampires 10 years ago; now, it was just another night at the office.
He felt the blood splatter onto his face, caught sight of a female arm reaching out for him. Warren sucked, glaring at the redhead baring her fangs before sinking his blade into her gut. The monster screamed and doubled over, slashing her long fingernails across Warren’s face. The vampire hunter grunted at the pain, twisting the blade in the vampire’s stomach before yanking the sword free.
The scream grew so loud, it pierced Warren’s ears. The echo bouncing off the walls of the damp alley would surely be noticed. He’d have to hurry this along.
( So much easier on TV )