been imagining the man radiated danger. His stillness spoke of an expert hunter, observing its prey and preparing to strike. The man's eyes both glowed a bright red. Most chilling of all though was the slight smile the man wore, a smile full of malice and disdain.
Hans considered turning, running, but knew in his heart that taking his eyes off the man, or creature, he confronted would be a dreadful mistake. He slowly slid his free hand into his pocket, closing it around the small object there and pulling his hand back out.
The man started to move towards Hans, smoothly gliding whilst hardly seeming to move. He had covered half the distance before Hans even noticed, desperately Hans stepped back and brought up the object in his left hand, jabbing it against the man's arm. To his amazement the man cried out in pain, smoke rising from where the small object had struck. He moved back several steps, studying Hans.
Hans glanced down at the small metal shape in his hand. Metallic and shaped into a small ankh the item had been passed down to Hans from his grandfather. The old man had assured him it was a genuine ward against evil and Hans had carried it with him every day of his life since then. He'd always had doubts though, and was both amazed and overjoyed to find it worked.
Confidence rapidly returning he advanced on the man before him, moving the charm in figures of eight.
“ Ha! Don't like that do ya? Thought you'd mess with Hans did ya? Well look at us know. I've got the power, and I'm gonna use it to kick yer arse back to hell!”
He took another step which took him almost close enough to touch the other's face with the charm. In the blink of an eye the man was no longer in front of Hans, he was beside him holding the arm Hans was using to wave the charm around. With a twist of his body the man snapped the bones in Hans arm, causing him to drop the charm to the floor screaming in agony. The scream didn't last long, with an inhuman screech of rage the man started to literally tear Hans apart, using immense strength to rip and pulp. Hans lost consciousness almost immediately, the shock of his injuries overwhelming his mind. From that point on the man was simply tearing apart a dead hunk of meat, but it didn't seem to slow him down. Indeed, he seemed to become more and more frenzied as the attack continued.
Rafael blinked as the red rage finally relented. He stared down at the ruined chunks of what had been a body scattered around him, cursing the waste. He couldn't feed on what remained, feeding was as much about draining life force as draining the victim’s blood.
His clothes were soaked in blood and gore, as were his boots. With a thought and a gesture he exerted a small part of his power, causing his clothing to expel all traces of the butchered man. Then he poked through the remains till he found the charm which had burnt him, still clutched in the dead man's hand. Rafael took out a leather pouch and his knife, then carefully used the knife to free the cursed item and slide it into the pouch. Once the pouch was tied securely he relaxed. Examining the burn on his arm he could see that it would take weeks to heal, rather than minutes as most wounds did. This was no ordinary wound though.
Rafael had encountered similar objects a handful of times through his long life and had been injured by several of them. All were now safely locked away, as this one would soon be too. Rafael had never learnt what was special about them – they all differed in shape, style and the material they were made from. They were imbued with some form of power that was dangerous to him and his kind, the Chosen.
Having taken care of the ankh Rafael stared down the path towards the village, sensing the people clustered in their homes and the inn. For a moment the warm promise of feeding they represented tempted him, then he gained control of himself again. Growling