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And it stunk like a train toilet after curry night.
Its mouth opened to show two rows of lovely spiky teeth as they moved closer to my throat. Fuck. Yeah, the last thing I wanted to be was dinner to this pissed off little freak.
I didn't like to do it, but decided to use my advantage over him. Usually my natural physical strength was enough, but when you came across a mean little fucker on steroids—a drug straight out of hell—you needed every bit of leverage you could get. So, I played dirty. If there was one thing I liked about being a demon, it was being able to use my opponent’s strengths and abilities against them. By tuning in to their fucked up psyche, I could play with their toys.
Pink punk didn't have a lot up top—as soon as I was on his wavelength I felt dumber. Never mind, this would only take a matter of seconds... I turned his physical hold against him and pushed up, using his enhanced toughness. Pinky was astounded that I could fight back so easily. He was one of the meanest breed of fighters in the demon realm, after all. With one last push, I flung him away from me, darted over to my dagger and threw it at his throat.
A sizzle and a bang, and it was goodbye to stinky.
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