Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe... Just Wanna Feel What I Can't
Ang had wanted him to be careful. Everyone seemed to tell him that. It wasn't in his vocabulary anymore. It was all about the destruction now. He slams his bowie knife into a demon's throat splattering himself with blood even as another one came behind him and he whirls around shooting it. Once he had rid himself of the demon population of the small town he walks over to his car, opening the trunk throwing the weapons he'd used inside of it before just laying his head on the open trunk. He could feel himself falling apart and he whirls around slamming his fist as hard as possible into the nearest tree not caring that it broke the skin and made it bleed. Pain was... a way of knowing you were alive. Or maybe for him it was to know he was dead inside. Nothing left for him to really live for. Except maybe find the bastard that had taken his family from him. Those green eyes narrow and he whirls around going for the nearest weapon just in case...