Berserk Griffith Torture 소설 & 이야기

Merritt murmured, snapping out of her trance. “It’s always been her,” I answered, looking back at Tempest, holding her own against the increasingly violent gusts, the poison thickening the air, and the way my own soul shook with so many enemies about to break through. “Baby, calm down. My love... stop now, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay...” I started pushing into her chaotic mind. Griffith was searching for his mate, trying to soothe her in that inner world. “Our baby, I have to protect our baby...”

He raised his hands high in the air, as if he was praying to God to bestow the most potent strength on these test subjects. “Damn it! This is f*cking inhuman!” Looking at dozens of test subjects that pounced towards them and utterly defeated their fighters, Tyr felt extremely frustrated. This sort of thing should not exist in this world! And neither should the berserker blood! At this time, one of the test subjects had targeted Tyr. It was a man with a sturdy physique who wore ragged clothes and had chains wrapped around his hands. Perhaps in an attempt to show off his terrifying strength, the wild man roared at Tyr! He even went to the extent of tearing off the chains tied to his arms.

He spits the blue eyeball out of his mouth. “Kneel!” Asher growls, holding up Grizz’s tattered and beaten body. Darius and Brickland’s wolves stand over Foster’s dead body, licking the blood off the jowls. Asher stands over Grizz, letting the claws from his free hand extend. In a swift swiping motion, the front of Grizz’s throat is now held in Asher’s hand. Asher then shoves Grizz’s dead body away, as if touching Grizz burns his skin.

Walking over to the torture table, I grabbed a whip from the array of tools there and folded it firmly around my fingers. The hard handle of the whip dug into my fingers, but I ignored it and landed the whip on the Elder with full force. It landed square on his back, and he howled in agony. His back was previously broken, and such an attack on it again would only serve to worsen his pain. Continuously, I whipped him hard until his clothes were torn and visible lacerations were on his body. He kept howling loudly, and his eyes flashed from their normal hue to a yellowish one as he half-morphed and struggled with all his might against the chain, but they didn't budge.

For someone with a bulky frame he sure moved fast, the air was knocked out of me as strong arms wrapped themselves around me taking me out of the way, the ground beneath us vibrated as Grims fists knocked into the ice. “are you okay?” my eyes were still wide when i noticed the damage, i slowly turned to Atlas who held me against him. Ice breaths escaped his lips as he stared at Ares, i turned back to Grim who adjusted his body and turned to me, his cape had come undone revealing the rest of his body. Atlas tucked me behind him and stood defensively in front of me. I got a good look of Grim’s body, his back especially, he had more tattoos which spiraled around his back, his arms were large a

He looks enraged. “Bu... Buriko?!” Alfi is surprised to see Buriko can match Cindaku. “Let me take care of this fake tiger!” Buriko exclaims. They start the fisticuff. A mythical martial artist versus a Berserker. Of course, they can match each other. Not to mention that they hate losing. Fists, kicks, scratches, smashes, any blow they have they launch no matter how painful it is, they keep launching their fist. Alfi just remains silent watching the fisticuff there.

If the alpha was lost, so was the clan. "Keep fighting, Alpha!" Kelda, the pack's shaman screamed over the rising wind and the crack of lightning crossing the sky. Brodolf threw his head back and howled, the sound long, loud and dripping with pain. Suddenly, he felt a pop, weak as a soap bubble, but a sign that he had won this round. They had once again beaten back the berserker that lived within him. Slowly, his body righted itself until finally he was left lying on his side, naked and spent, upon the frozen ground. Kelda sat next to him, murmuring nonsense and stroking his hair, giving him what comfort she could until he recovered enough to sit up and wrap the blanket she held around his b

Rippling black fur coats thick muscle, his shoulders rising and falling with every breath. He doesn’t look at me. He keeps his gaze locked forward as low growls vibrates from deep in his chest. When the Berserker lunges, Cain meets him in mid-air. His jaws snap around the Berserker’s throat and I hear the sickening crunch of bone. In retaliation, the beast’s horns lash out. I watch in horror as one gashes Cain’s shoulder, while the other spears his side. Snapping out of it, I reach for my Berettas, but stop when pain suddenly tears through my back. My body lurches sideways, a sharp gasp ripping from my throat as my knees buckle.

He removed the jacket, then the shirt, needing to breathe without Adrian’s choice touching his skin. His eyes dropped to his ribs. He froze. Beneath the pale skin on his left side was a tiny scar. It was small. Too small to mean nothing. The line was neat, clean, and careful, like someone had cut him open and closed him again with patience. Lucas touched it. A sharp sting shot through his side. He gasped and stepped back, hitting the sink. For one second, he heard something. A soft beep. Lucas stopped breathing. He searched the bathroom for a hidden machine, a camera, anything that could have made the sound.

The griffin clawed Samuel to help his owner out. However, Samuel shot a fire beam into his shoulder. It dug into the wound like hail, rushed at it like a storm, and burned at it like hot water. For the griffin, Samuel pushed his index finger against the griffin's forehead and shot a beam as well, and fried his brain. SHRIEK! The griffin flailed in two seconds and died. He stopped flapping his wings and fell like a bullet to the ground. Samuel was enjoying the moment he tormented the griffin whisperer that had lost his griffin. His mind couldn’t think as his body moved on its own. His eyes dilated in impossible big and his heart was racing.