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- There was no reprieve given, no moment of rest or second to relax; I was on him a moment later, letting his wrist go so I could leapt onto his chest, just above where Lisa had said his core was located, and once more, I started hammering at it.
- “▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!”
- DIE!
- The words never made it out of my throat, not coherently. But then, I didn’t care about being coherent, right then. I didn’t care about making sense. I didn’t care if anyone else understood me.
- I just wanted to fucking kill this son of a bitch.
- DIE!
- “▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!”
- My fists slammed down. Flesh splintered, cracked, broke. More and more black ichor surged from the wound, splattering over my skin and staining my clothing black.
- DIE!
- “▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!”
- With all my strength, I punched. With all of my rage, with all of my pain and anguish, with every gut-wrenching twist of my stomach and all the molten fire surging through my veins, I punched.
- DIE!
- “▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!”
- But it wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. Why wasn’t it enough? Herakles had killed so many powerful monsters, so many of which could make Leviathan seem inadequate, and they had all died just the same, they had all died under his fists, his sword, his might, like they were nothing, so why… why…
- WHY WON’T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE?!
- “▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅▂▂▃▅▅ —!”
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