The overwhelming scent of blood brought Anti into this rather peculiar place within the Ipliers’ household. He hadn’t seen anything like it during his last several visits but, he also never took the time to snoop about like he was now. No matter, the opportunity had presented itself and he had taken it.
He had sauntered through the rather burly door and down the several flights of stairs, coming upon the source of the overwhelming scent and the condition the other had found himself in. Anti would approach him, kneeling down to the wounded Ego’s level as he took in the Host’s broken and battered body. “O̴͚̫̅̚ẖ̸̡͆̑ ̸͎͖͌b̵̨̽o̸̠̒̀y̸̜͒͘, look at ya! Ye have definitely looked better, even with the b̵̦̗͒̐l̶̺̰̿̈́o̶͍̗͝o̷̮̊̚d̵̪́̈͜ī̷̞̑e̸̘̓̾d̷̟̈́͗ eye thing goin’ on. “
The ground was cold, and Host laid in his own pool of blood. It dripped from deep cuts on his arms and chest, it dripped from his eyes and his hands -which had been stabbed through. He was covered in bruises, big and ugly. The back of his head was bloody, fitting to a bloody spot on the wall. He probably had one or two broken bones as well.
He was barely conscious when he heard Anti’s voice, and he wasn’t even sure if it was real. Maybe it was just a vision from another reality. He often confused what was real and what happened in another reality.
What he did know, was that he had been bad. That he had done bad, and that Dark had needed to punish him for it. And so here he was, bloody and broken, until he could get up again and get back to what he should be doing.
emptynarration 