Bad Moonchild

Othello gritted his teeth when his sister starts to walk away from him. She didn't want to return home with him, and that makes him worry more. He cannot leave her in here for much longer.

Because he knew what fate had in store for her. He could see him only by looking at her from afar, especially when his former master, Chaol Dremurr comes in view.

He clenched his calloused fists into a tight ball.

'That moron should've done some research before lunging onto half-assed decisions!' he cursed under his breath. The anger he felt for the count was unbearable.

Suddenly, he hears a faint clap behind him. He turned himself backward in a compelling and predatory manner, which caused the male to stop dead at his tracks.

Everyone that approached him when he's pissed off, dies.

"How miserable."

"This game that you started isn't entertaining Chaol." he snickered at him bitterly. "You will yourself losing, I am sure of it."

"How can I lose