Chapter 24: Bloodthirsty.
Ren stepped forward, eyes locked on the weapon as if he were being pulled by some invisible rope.
The Bloodthirsty was beautiful in the way a volcanic eruption or a collapsing star might be—raw, dangerous, and utterly irresistible.
As his hand closed around the blood-red handle of the scythe, a jolt ran up his arm like someone had slapped his soul.
It was unreasonably cold and heavy. No, stupidly heavy. His arm dipped immediately under the weight, and he almost dropped the thing then and there.
"W-What the hell?" he muttered, bracing himself as he hauled the full weapon off its pedestal with both hands.
The scythe blade glinted under the overhead lights, a brutal half-moon of sharpened death that practically dripped menace.
Even the curved neck of the weapon looked like it was made to snap bone. But it wasn't just the blade that was giving him second thoughts.
The thick chain that extended from the end of the handle was long—longer than any he'd ever seen in weapon reference books—and made of some strange red metal that shimmered with a faint pulse, like it was breathing.
The spiked club attached to the other end was just as bad. It looked like someone had fused a medieval mace with a bear trap, and then dipped it in crimson steel.
When Ren reached out to touch the chain, it whispered to him. Not metaphorically—literally.
The moment his fingers brushed the cold links, a thin hiss slithered into his ears like a thousand dying voices murmuring in unison.