What Happened To Bakuda's Sacrifice?

The man turns round, hitting me with his gun as he turns around, and shoots one of the cops. I quickly snatch the gun and drag the knife out of his pocket so he can’t harm anyone else. The police arrest him. He fights back but he is finally taken away in the back of the police van.

The stone streets were a veil at this time of night, with who knows how many menacing horrors hiding behind the curtain. The lingering gas hovering over the ground was timid, dispersing at the sight of anyone who strayed near. The moon tried to pry into the city’s shadows, but it was too thick to cut. The buildings were nothing but faded memories: gray, eroded structures that once boasted splendor and beauty. Street rats, both rodent and human, scuttled about in the alleyways, knocking assortments over and fleeing if anyone walked past, just like the gas. A dog barked in the distance. Car horns blared on 5th Avenue nearby. Tank sighed. No place like home.

Gall stumbled forward, swept up his Mordblade and raced to intercept the Shatain. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears, nearly drowning out the shrill and agonized screams of the Mordblade’s Daemon in his mind. But he ignored this, the growing tingling in his sword arm, and a trail of sparks dripping from his weapon.

But they weren't fast enough, and the two were left standing there, bleeding and bruised and battered, but ready to end the fight.

As soon as Aengus snatched me I nearly dropped to the floor. "Please, sir." I muttered. "Get on with it!" Aengus yowled, jerking me into the corridor. I was met by five more Stalerie outside. Dishi sat in the front, holding a large set of silver chains tangled in his hands ready to commandeer me. Aengus retained my arms me while another grabbed them, slipping the chains over my wrists. "I don't understand," I wailed. "I told him I don't have any abilities yet!" Aengus laughed as the silver burned my skin. I jumped in pain "We are taking no chances bird, now shut yer mouth and let's go. Shall

Until a burst of clamor erupted out of the front door of my house as the party spilled its noise and bodies in to the once silent darkness. The breach flowed on to my yard as the fight continued on to the wet muddy grass. The people pooled around the fight to watch, and right in the center was me. After hearing the spark in the back of the house I quickly traded places with people to assess the situation. I encouraged every one to trade spots with the fight to get it out side for every ones safety. There had already been some injured bystanders that did not deserve to be hit. No one should hit a sloth, especially not one that is a small 23-year-old socially awkward girl that doesn’t drink. My strategy for stopping a fight is to just get in the way so I shoved myself between the aggressors with my thought process of, “They are not mad at me, so they won’t hit me, Right?” this may have not been completely correct but my injuries where deserved and mild. I had gotten them to cool down but by then the cops had arrived. I tried to convince the police to let the party continue. They were not convinced by me or the second head I had on as part of my Halloween costume. The party was

His voice was monotone as he rounded the corner. He had taken his heavier armor off, figuring he wouldn't need it around King's Landing. He had been wrong before, but lucky enough for him, he could hold his own. Long brown locks hung in his face. His boots adorned with splatters of dried blood. Beads of sweat from the fight made his forehead shine in the light, yet he wasn't breathing heavily. Those men weren't even warmups. They were nothing but street trash.

Removing his hat, bowing, left a hard blow to Abram’s gut, observing the disfigurement left by attempted murder! Unable to console the young man preceding the open elevator doors, stepping out facing John replied, ‘I’m sorry.’

Knives are silent. Quick and graceful. In the right hands, more deadly. Drop the gun. Come willingly or he dies. I don’t care. I have you either way. I can’t lose. You can’t win.

THE very sky could have completely fallen && Raphaël would have not noticed--not with all the chaos and the debris that fell like lightning and threatened to collapse beneath. Not with Marie wanting to traverse dangerous paths herself, dipping, && stumbling, && allowing herself constant near death trips, well, that would have been the case had he not continued to help her so faithfully && and of course Raphaël would! After what they had just gone through in saving France! Hell, he could still feel the warmth of everyone’s hopes, of everyone’s faith, upon his wrist! --It still felt warm, even now, even with the harsh winds blowing dust and bits of rocks into his eyes.

He brought his baton to his left ear, and swung the weapon towards his opponent’s skull. It connected with his skull with a sharp crack that sent him tumbling off of the pinned soldier and onto the ground, unconscious and likely concussed. The now freed man brought himself to his feet, nodded to Basile in thanks, and savagely kicked the helpless man in the ribs. All around Basile, similar brawls were occurring with ferocity on both sides. However, the police had helmets and weaponry on their side. More often than not, the protestors were the ones lying bloody on the ground.

I begin to walk down the road in search of bandages to aid my shoulder. I squint down the road and see someone on their knees with a gun to their head. I begin to sprint and scream, “No! Don't do it!”. I keep running towards him and hear a single gunshot and see him fall over. I begin to think it’s my fault. I feel like I could of prevented it. I walk over to his lifeless body. “He’s got a good amount of supplies.” I take his bag. It has ammunition, purified water, and a wallet with $120. In this situation, money doesn’t get you anywhere. I begin to keep walking and turn into an ally. I try to start a fire in a random barrel here. I begin to hear people talking and walking around me. My heart stops. It’s more Thugs. And I don’t think they’re happy for what I did to the other four. They turn to wall and see me. They know I did it. A thug pushes me against a wall, I try to fight back but two other ones come over and grab my arms and put them behind my back. One more comes over and takes my rifle and handgun. They say, “This is for what you did earlier!” Punches begin to smash my chest, stomach, and face. They kick me down on the ground. I fall, then look up and see a long

I woke up to unknown gunshots, which is really weird because I usually sleep through them. These gunshots are more like Mk 19 grenade launchers, louder and more explosive. I grab my brown cardigan and my knife under the pillow and start to creep out to the hallway. After stepping out, darkness, a hand covers my mouth and I flip him over my shoulder with my knife aiming toward the unknown person’s neck. I turn on my iPhone's flashlight at his face. To my surprise, it was Alec, one of our drug dealers.

The guards lifted their swords and pointed their arrows then began their charge. But as the cloaked man held out his hand the entire army stood motionless in their boots. They couldn’t move if they tried.

“What the heck?!?!” Jordan said sprinting to where the voices were coming from. Since Jordan and her mom lived alone they never were expecting anyone. Especially someone just bursting in unannounced. Jordan turns down the hallway to see 7 men all dressed in black with masks and guns. Her mom trailing behind. Her heart is racing and perplexing thoughts were whizzing through her mind.