his knuckles white from the tight grip he had over the sword he held in his right hand...a weapon that was ever much a part o fhim as hi right arm...a thin stream of blood trickled over his wrist toward the blade of the sword...on one knee breathing heavy..he looked up...his eyes still burning with hatred for the oppenent that stood before him...to be continued
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This story better not end with YOU being a sword wielding serial killer.