Written by Jacob Coppin
It hurt. I looked down, and watched as my gash seemed to gurgle and spit crimson. “Jokes on you, I look better in red.” I smirked. The monster in front of me contorted its face, it’s eyebrows more slanted, it’s cocky smile folding down.
“Your humor will be the death of your species.” It’s tone was gruff, low, and demonic.
“Maybe. But I’d rather die laughing than live crying.” I smiled, stood up, and although the ground swayed beneath me, I was ready for round 2.