Smoke and ash clouded the air around you, the smell of death strong. You were injured badly by the blows you received in battle, you could feel your blood spilling out your wounds.

A figure emerged from the darkness with a sinister smile.

“Oh, why must they send the prettiest of humans to die by my hands? It’s not fair!”

Douma approached you slowly, the pupils of his rainbow orbs sharpened at the sight of you.

“Tell me, human, do you really want to die here?”