Cannibal Wally Romane & Geschichten

Laughing and screaming, some fighting with each other for a show. Vomit arose in Diana’s throat. They could see a crude line of iron cages full of weeping, pleading humans and trolls, werewolves, and witches. Other humans were strung up from poles, and still others were surrounded and taunted by groups of ferals. But the ultimate dreadfulness playing out before their eyes was not one of torture and ravishment, but cannibalism. The ferals were eating their hostages one by one. Some took the time to impale the victims and roast them over the flames. Others had no such civility, eating the poor humans alive and drinking their blood. The hostages were not being held for ransom at all. They were

Cannon snorts, hands buried inside his coat. “I hope so,” Wendigo gave a half-shrug, "maybe alone, I can't, but together, I'm very sure I can,” he glances at the Black gun by his side. “Useless mortals” The smirk on Cannon's face was so chilly, it was as though he was mocking the stupid guys who thought they could defeat him. “Not all mortals are as useless as you think,” Wendigo brags, he just doesn't understand who Cannon is and what he is capable of cause if he did, he won't have been blabbing nonsense.

"Send a courier. I'll give you the address." "No, I wouldn't trust anyone with Wally—you should come pick him up yourself," Adam said, before adding, "Don't worry. I won't trick you into coming back and then hurt you." Without giving Renee a chance to refuse, Adam hung up. Then her phone vibrated several times—it was Adam again, and she tapped on it to see that it really was photos of Wally. It was adorable as ever, it rolled around and bit a rubber chicken, baring its round belly and fluffy tail.