(no subject)

May 21, 2010 18:48

[It wasn't an unusual event to witness death for a man such as Miller. He had dealt with death for many years, had seen mutilated corpses, severed limbs, true torture that surpassed the human psyche. It was amazing he could still sleep at night with the amount the Master had observed over the years.

But in all his years of serving as a Master had he ever felt bile rise up in the back of his throat, had he literally hurled at the sight of a person's body before. Neither had he felt the sting piercing his eyes like fine razorblades that only bore deeper into his skull. Until today.

To see his daughter in a disfigured form, her dead corpse. His daughter's corpse. She was not a soldier. She was his little girl. To see his baby girl in such a violent state...

It had been the first time he had cried in over thirty years.

But now that he had gained his composure, he was waiting for his daughter's murderer to show. He was going to prove why he was called the Hell Master. Even if that meant putting the miserable fucker through exactly the same torture as Catherine had endured. Ten-fold.]

((ooc: Approach with caution. If he doesn't like the looks of you, you might get a punch in the face.))

originalmiller

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