Again.
But here I will leave you with a little something old that's still being worked on.
Leave a comment below with what you're looking on, and as always - keep writing my friends.
She didn’t know what to expect, walking into this hunter’s
home. She knew who he was based on the things she’d seen him do. It was rather
exceptional watching him at work.
There were people who could make using
weapons look artful, then there was him. She was only here because – because
she couldn’t deal with what’s out on the street. She was being hunted by
something, or someone, no it was a thing…
“You’ll be safe here for the night.”
He didn’t have to say that her place would be too dangerous.
That it might not ever be safe again. He didn’t have to.
Stepping across the threshold she felt something surge
around her. An energy that created a barrier between this small safe haven and
the rest of the outside world. It wasn’t palpable, nor tangible. It was
something that she could feel in her spirit.
“Whoa,” she stared at the walls, the ceiling even. It was
bizarre. “You know, normal people don’t
have a basement full of weapons.”
He barely glanced at her as he locked up.
“I’ll have you know that every single one of these knives
saves my life at least once.”
She looked around again, confused, “What about that gun over
there?”
It was a long range rifle. The barrels were precise, the
hammer intricate. There were gold and silver designs etched into the wood. She
couldn’t make them out, but it was beautiful.
For a gun.
“Oh that? That’s just for decoration.”
