(Crar Suspendisse= Karkat Vantas)

    It was as silent as could be. He was holding his sickle, his brow was creased. He prayed at a taboo grave, and his teeth gritted. Crimson hair was concealed and freckles skin was maimed with dirt. And he mourned.

    Silence never lasted, though. He knew that. And neither did noise. He knew that as well. There were Grimm behind him. It was obvious. As was everything, nowadays. He couldn't afford to be surprised, not while taking a risk like this.

They came at him. And he jumped.

    High into the air, moonlight on his back, he took his two recolored sickles, took his aim, and shot. The head of one of the creatures was blasted off, and he landed. Aiming both, he took his fire again. Two gone, however many to go. He didn't want a fight, but if the Grimm wanted one, then he dared them to try.

    They advanced, coming at him, obviously not wanting to be picked off. Not wanting to be picked off like the Suspendisse family. The thought made his heart hurt, and he came at them, too.

    There was music thumping in his heart. Screams were in his ears like a battle cry. With precise slices, he could be rid of them, two by two. If he were a younger version of himself, he would've wanted nothing but blood. But he knew that was just stupid. He needed to get rid of the Grimm, not maul them.

    It hurt his heart but not him. Not physically. Two more down with two precise slices. The one with his non dominant hand was a bit sloppier, but that was ok. A shot that went through three heads, and he contemplated that if that had happened to his family it would have been less painful. But this wasn't a time to be weak.

    Two shots, now four, eight, sixteen, multiplying as he felt his eyes burn with rage and tears, pent up. Five slices.

    He stepped back to reload. That was a hundred Grimm, yup. Three cartridges ought to do the trick. Running at them, he sliced.

    And more. Slice and shoot, it was a blood rage now. He pretended his tears weren't falling. He wasn't weak enough to cry. A thousand slices, it seemed, killing everything around him. A shot, now a hundred.

    And when he opened his eyes, there was no more.

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