Xor lay motionless on the floor. Though he always looked half dead, and zombie like, he never looked as much so now. His wings lay silent; instead of the delicate aura about them, and their beauty despite darkness, they looked old, and crumpled. His face looked as though it were made out of grey leather; hard, worn, beaten up, and stiff. His scars stood out more than ever; black creases with horrible tissue beside them, roaring out of his old face like earthquakes. His hair was static, and blown all around; his missing eye was plainly revealed, and more grotesque than ever. His other eye was wide open; already looking glazed. His mouth hung open in an expression of shock.
His two blades lay beside his corpse; scattered and defeated, they no longer had a master to order their disappearance, so lay static. A well concealed knife had flown out of his jacket in the sky, and landed almost creepily close to his hand, blade first. His legs were sprawled and unnaturally bent; one had surely been broken. Though the rest of his equipment lay intact, his body did not; the injuries of past battles stood out so badly, now that he had fought his last one. No matter what you clothed him in, it would be nearly impossible to make it look like a peaceful passing.
There was no denying it; as the body lay broken, only one solution was possible. He was dead.
Topic: Dead Locke house (Read 56771 times)