The Brutal Massacre (PRIVATE - DARK FANG ONLY)

A group of thugs, who were really just considered dumb muscle, talked about what crime they were gonna commit next. They were so enraptured in their conversation that they almost didn't notice the person passing through the alleyway, almost being the keyword. This person was that of a child of around 4'0" high and was about 7 years old with short blue hair, pale skin and green eyes with pupils slitted like a snake's. He wore blue combat boots and a white kimono with a blue outline. Strapped to his back was a rather menacing triple-bladed red-colored scythe. The thugs stepped in front of the child and pulled out various weapons, that of being knives, bats, pipes and chains, but oddly no gun. "Alright kid, give us all you got" said one of the thugs. Instead of being scared, the child merely scoffed and pulled his scythe into his hands. Without even giving the thugs any warning, he lunged at them, stabbing the three scythe blades into the chest of the leader before slamming him into the ground and flinging him into a dumpster. He then turned to the thug on his left and cut him in half at the waist before finishing him off by hacking his head off. He then turned to the last thug, who was frozen in sheer terror and stabbed the blades through his head, the man dieing instantly. He wrenched the blades out of the man's head and licked the blood off of them, savoring the sweet and yet bitter taste. "Bunch of fucking useless pussies are good for nothing but being fucking cannon fodder" he cursed out in a raspy tone of voice that heavily contrasted with his childlike appearance.

Trace was walking from his office to his home when he heard the sounds of blades puncturing flesh. That wasn't good for anyone involved. Romolus' voice growled appreciatively. "Whoever it is can wield a blade." His green eyes were keen for danger, and his nostrils flared as he sniffed. The iron laced, salty scent of blood curled inside his nose. He turned towards the alleyway, seeing the slaughterfest. He could see two thugs dead. The only survivor seemed to be a small child. Trace approached slowly so he didn't alarm the kid. "Hey! What happened here?" He called, looking around the alley.

He looked down at the bodies and grinned sadistically at the stupid thugs that dared to get in his way, taking in the fruit of his labors as it were. He felt he was in a much better mood now that these damned fuckmooks had thrown away their own lives for his pleasure. It made his twisted black heart beat with sickening glee, temporarily getting rid of the pain of betrayal and abandonment in his heart. His body stiffened up however when he heard approaching footsteps. He turned to face the person and looked up and down at him. He was asked what happened and he scowled at the stupidity of such a question. "What the fuck do you think happened here you dumb-as-shit fuckmook? Isn't it obvious I killed these sons-a-bitches?" he questioned the man in his raspy voice.

The voice was at odds with the child-like form. The language too was strange for a child. The insult that had been used...Fuckmook. He hadn't heard the term before. To his knowledge, children didn't invent their own swear-based insults until their teen years. "You killed them?" He asked, half not believing it, even though he saw the bloody three-bladed scythe in the kid's hand. "Yes. Quite a blade. Kill him and take it!" Trace hoped the child would come quietly, but judging by the violence displayed, that was unlikely. "I'm taking you in." He said, his eyes hard. He readied himself and charged, a pre-emptive strike the best weapon he had against his foe.

He snorted at the stupidity of such a question. He already admitted he did so why would he ask the question again? He had heard from the man that he was going to be taken in and let out an amused chuckle. If he was going to be arrested, he was going to make sure he went down fighting. After all, he wasn't going to be a pussy and just let himself be arrested. He analyzed the man and figured that his scythe probably wouldn't do any damage to him so he strapped the scythe to his back and dodged out of the way of his charge by swerving his body to the side. He then used his full strength and aimed a punch at the man's stomach, following it up with an enzugiri kick aimed at the back of his head.

Trace was impressed by the kid's speed as he managed to avoid Trace's charge. He spotted the fist aimed for his gut and decided he could probably do without an injury to that area as he leaned his body and slid under the powerful blow, at the same time avoiding the second attempt at a hit, a high kick that made the air whistle with its power. Trace stopped a short distance away and grimaced. "Oh kid...Now you'll have to meet my pal. His name's Rom. I'm sure you'll love him as much as I do." His nails lengthened into long claws as the transformation began. His teeth became fangs, hair began to sprout up all over his body. He grew in size, his eyes staring down his foe. His voice came out rasping, Romolus' voice, Romolus' thoughts. "Now let's try this my way." His speed was increased as he charged again, claws reached out for the boy's throat. Although Trace wouldn't kill intentionally, Romolus had no problem with doing just that.