*Boom*

The rocket was fired from a guard down the hall. He along with a dozen others were fully armed with steam guns and other contraptions fully ready to take down Flintwood. The explosion shook the passageway and destroyed sections of it. Pieces of the ceiling fell off randomly carrying more dust into the air adding to the cloud that obscured the guard's already poor vision of Flintwood.

Though the guards ears rang from the initial explosion they still heard it the distinct sound of heavy footsteps on the cobbled ground. With heavy hearts, the guards waited they steadied their sweating hands till they all saw it again. The creature their mothers and fathers warned them about since young, the beast they were told to fear, were taught to fight despite fear.

Though they had guns and set up a barricade and though Flintwood walked out of the dust with a missing eye, half his face blown off, and numerous wounds that covered most of his body none of them felt safe. Guns were suppose to bring a sense of security, so why did their is bring none, why did they feel as vulnerable as a sheep on the day it was born? To them Flintwood looked at them with a cold hunger in his eye their instincts screamed at them to run, lie, beg, to do anything it took to escape this alpha predator.

The guards here have seen all manner of criminals from the lowliest thief to the most heinous murders. They control their lives like farmers herding cattle so they knew the feeling of when their life was no longer in their control.

The clamor of jostling metal in shaking hands sounded repeatedly. The guards were scared Flintwood only stood there but he gave off such a profound threat that the guards found it difficult to move. This lack of action between both sides lasted until it happened. In a momentary laps of judgement a guard fired his steam riffle missing Flintwood entirely only to hit the stone floor bye Flintwood's feet. The sudden shot sparked the other guards into action they fired at will without the order from their superior who also shot out tirelessly at Flintwood.

A hail of bullets tore across Flintwood's body. Sparks flashed and danced in the air when they hit Flintwood's scaly armor. The few shots that drew blood were those that landed on the side that was chard from the rocket explosion. Flintwood cared not for this, their attempt at killing him was lackluster at best case in point who arms their targets? Losing blood is dangerous for most but not for Flintwood who's blood is his weapon.

With each shots Flintwood successfully receive, blood sprayed out of him only to float in the air by his side. The growing volume of floating blood by Flintwood's made the guard's hairs stand on end as the growing worry inside them spiked.

"Will someone fire the second rocket already". A random guard firing sporadically at the unmoving Flintwood uttered.

Not needing to be told twice another guard readied a rocket as quickly as he could and fired it at Flintwood. The rocket flew true leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. After reaching Flintwood an explosion rocked the hallway once more. The ground swayed while the guard's hid under cover. The deafening ring in their ears made their heads split. Their only relief from the pain was seeing Flintwood dead. A reality that proved false for he walked towards them with no more damage then he originally started with.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Jaws hung slack in disbelief others in just fear.

"B-but, how?".

As the shock begun to set in for the guards black blood fell off of Flintwood's body. It covered him head to toe before dripped down onto the pavement like ink and floating back up again in a swarm of red balls. By manipulating his own blood Flintwood created a protective layer with it shielding him from harm. Before the guard's could even realize this fact Flintwood stepped closer. Which inadvertently jumbled the guard's minds and made them think of Flintwood as more than beast, but a true monster.

A monster who controlled his own blood as fluidly as his own limbs. A monster who shaped it to his will conjuring needles of blood. A monster who showed no mercy to the guards simply doing their job and sent those weapons of destruction at them. With no time to move and no where to hide from Flintwood's reach those guards met a gruesome end. Chests caved in as bones snapped like twigs. Blood fell like rain in the hall as severed torsos squirted a fountains worth of blood. Bits of flesh hung from severed limbs as even eyes dangled by a thread in the sockets that once held them.

After it all what was left was a single lucky guard laying in a pile of bodies. Clamping down on his gaping leg wound desperately trying to stop the flow of blood. As Flintwood saw this happen Flintwood turned to face a new threat. A myriad of bullet pelted him from the side. Flintwood Identified them as a swarm of more guards coming from the opposite side of the hallway to face him. Though the numbers were greater Flintwood found then no greater a threat then the previous group before.

With a flip of his palm Flintwood created a blood spear and grasped it in his hand. His muscle enlarged as he threw it with herculean strength. The spear blurd as it perched itself in the chest of the lead guard. The guard was flung backwards by the sudden hit into the group of guards making there way forward. That guard couldn't comprehend nor the rest what exactly happened. Even as the guards body contorted inward as if being sucked into himself and exploding into a gory mess. His bones became shrapnel and his blood turned acidic as it splash everyone attempting to attack Flintwood.

The guards didn't even get the chance to properly scream as they became puddles on the stone floor. Flintwood reaped those lives without any care he looked at the melting bodies as though they were just water. To him there was nothing special about it there was no wrong done. It all was just a means to an end. So he continued on unburden by feelings or doubt. He controlled the blood of the dead. Scrapped together all the scattered bones and flesh around him and with it he sculpted. Through there sacrifice he laid the foundation for a new life. He made sure to display parts of everyone because they all had part in this child being born.

The guards's arms became legs and the legs became arms. He fused what was left of everyone's spine and made the center of the trunk. The trunk had the intact heads and remanent faces of the guards graphed on to it. The eyes twitch and the mouths spoke out for help.

When people witness Flintwood's works of art for the first time they often question weather what he had created was living or dead and his answer to that has always been the same. "What I create is as alive as you and me" he says that because Flintwood know that he is correct. Flintwood doesn't have any power over death but what he has is near complete control over his own life force. With that he can breath new life into the old or do what he just did which was spare the dead from dying.

What they were no longer matters because what they are now is a masterpiece sculpted in the form of a banyan tree. Crafted by Flintwood in representation on what he loves to see. Could he have made them whole once more, prettier, stronger yes all that and more. But why would he when this raving mass of flesh was already perfect the way it was.

"Go, kill as many as you can". Flintwood ordered.

With a mixture of grunts, ghastly wails, and screams the creature obeyed. This horrid mass of flesh walked down to the end of the hall turned a corner in search of prey. Out of sight the creature screamed it screamed in pain not from its own existence but from its life being snuffed out. A pillar of flames shot through the hallway purging it clean of corrupt filth. Walking on the coked remains of Flintwood's work was Jasper Mendoza.