clawshot

He attacked Ingram, and the two went at it again, exchanging kicks and punches while the audience cheered them on. The winged fighters were throwing everything they had at each other, with adrenaline flooding their veins and the blood steaming as it flowed from their wounds. Every lesson they had ever learned, every technique they had acquired, every spark of experience they had, they directed into their moves, punching and kicking as hard as they could, with mana roaring around their limbs.

“You can't be serious!” she gasped, as Daddy slipped himself out from behind her and pushed her down to the bed.“Why not?” I asked. “It's not like it tastes bad, or anything! I've tried it loads of times. It's different than Daddy's is, for sure, but it isn't bad.”

“Now, what’s in here, I wonder? Liquid pleasure, which will enslave your mind and bend you to my will for the rest of your life, offering everything you have for another taste? Or maybe it’s a vicious toxin that will have you screaming and writhing in pain, biting your wrists in an attempt to kill yourself, with every second feeling like a lifetime spent in the heart of a bonfire? Pick a vein, and let’s find out. Or…” He brought the needle right up to her eye, making her shudder in terror. “I can always go in through the mucus membrane. Yes, that sounds like fun. Now take a deep breath and think of home.”