Who's the Attacker?
The pale crescent moon shone like a silvery claw in the night sky. The air ice cold. "They should have been dead," said a masked man and threw another man on the rugged ground. Blood oozed from his forehead. "I had hit them with full force," defended the man trying to get to his feet. The masked man kept his foot and the victim's head and pushed him to the ground. "You have failed me," he said; his voice firm. He kept his gloved hands on the victim's forehead and closed his eyes. The victim's body went stiff, he screamed internally as the light began to leave his body gradually. A burning sensation ran through every cell of his body. His face began to disfigure. A dull sciatic ache had settled into his legs. The masked man pulled up his hoodie and walked away from the dead body.
- Writer
