Raveled Posted November 18, 2010 Author Posted November 18, 2010 The ghoul danced back and away from Dead Head's swinging shovel. It let out another teakettle scream and suddenly bounded forward, black claws flashing as it swung them in wide arcs, looking to disembowel the hero. The revenant was faster than a dead man had any right to be, though, and the beast's claws barely managed to scrape his emaciated side. On a living man, those scratched would have bled freely into the cold night air, maybe weakening him fatally. If Dead Head took any notice of them, he didn't give a sign.
Dr Archeville Posted November 24, 2010 Posted November 24, 2010 Dead Head, in fact, did not notice the injury, which had immediately started healing up as more putrescent flesh grew in to fill it. The revenant worked his shovel free from the concrete, then thrust it high into the air. He let out a shriek of his own, hoping to throw it off-guard, but his own weird necrology turned on him as the throat of his constantly decaying-yet-regenerating body warped in a way that three off his keening and made him sound more like a teenager with a cracking voice. Dang, ain't sounded like that since high school. He swung again with his shovel, putting more oomph into it than he otherwise normally would, hoping the target would still be off-guard from his shriek. But the beast was not phased by the dead man's screams, and easily dodged out of the way. Man, ain't nothin' goin' right here!
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