THIRD PERSON POV
"Have mercy," a trembling, brown-skinned man begged on his knees before Claw's throne. Claw looked down at the old man, his eyes filled with contempt, but instead of showing mercy, he and his army of living dead burst into laughter.
"Mercy, you said?" Claw repeated, his deep, drawling voice dripping with sarcasm. "That word doesn't exist in my vocabulary."
In all honesty, Claw didn't know what it meant to show mercy. It was something he never learned, considering his own mother had abandoned him in the forest upon his birth.
"Give me one reason why I should save a member of your worthless species," Claw questioned, his voice laced with disdain. He had already made up his mind to end every human who stood in his way for world dominance. After all, humans were just a means to an end; they were what was wrong with this world, especially the soul before him. This man had sold his only daughter to a brothel to repay his gambling debt.
"I have a daughter who needs me," the man pleaded, tears streaming down his face, his limbs trembling with fear.
"Oh, you mean the one you sold?" Claw questioned, his voice dripping with venom. Guilt crept onto the old man's face.
"I needed the money. It was either me or her," the old man replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
"And you chose yourself," Claw stated, rising from his seat. "I've heard enough."
Staring at the old man's pathetic face, Claw said his favorite four words: "Dispose of this trash." Claw commanded five of his living dead friends, who quickly descended upon the old man. The old man tried begging for mercy, but it was no use. The dead had no use for that word. Limb by limb, they tore him to shreds.
As Claw looked on, he felt nothing – no streak of excitement or empathy. He might have been born human, but at this point, he was no better than his living dead friends. His heart had grown cold, his soul ripped out by those so-called humans who thought it wise to abandon a newborn in the woods just because he was hideous.
Immediately after the old man's screams ended, and it was confirmed that he was no more, Claw and his minions moved to his game room for their monthly game of death. This game was a twisted ritual, with Claw and his army taking turns suggesting targets for their next attack.
Claw stood among his army of living dead, their undead eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze. He grinned, his fangs glinting in the faint moonlight.
"Who's ready for a game of cheers?" he asked, his voice booming through his abandoned castle. The living dead responded with a chorus of groans and cheers, their voices like a chilling breeze.
Claw laughed, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Excellent! Winner gets to choose our next target."
The living dead cheered, their voices rising with each passing moment. As always, Claw won the final round. Why they even bothered to play was beyond him; Claw was way too smart for them.
Claw's grin widened as he declared, "Flavin, prepare to march, my friends."
As the living dead began to march, Claw's mind wandered. He had ruled with tyranny for over 25 years, terrorizing the people. But despite the fear and respect he inspired, he felt empty. Killing had become too easy, too routine. The thrill was gone, replaced by a dull sense of duty.
But there was one thing that still brought him joy: killing lovers. Having them choose between their loved one and death, only for them to betray each other, was thrilling to watch.
"Love is a rubbish act," he thought to himself. "It's weak, foolish, and predictable."
As he walked among his army, Claw's thoughts turned to his past. He remembered the pain and rejection he had suffered as a child, the cruelty of the villagers who had shunned him. He remembered the kindness of Glenda, the evil witch who had taken him in and taught him how to harness his powers, and the way she was brutally murdered, burnt in her own house.
But most of all, he remembered the moment when he had discovered his true purpose: to punish the world for its weakness, to bring terror and despair to those who had wronged him. The world would soon learn to tremble at the mention of his name.
As Claw and his army of living dead marched towards Flavin, Claw's ultra-sonic ears captured an unmistakable sound – the sound of a woman moaning in pleasure.
"You all march forward, and remember, no killing of infants. I have some business to attend to," Claw commanded, cutting into the forest towards the sound. Using his superhuman speed, he ran towards the scene.
Witnessing every second of their steamy session, Claw's eyes narrowed as he watched Adam, a young man with a strong jaw and charming face, being intimate with his presumed lover, a blonde-headed woman with a boxed-shaped face. They were stark naked, as the young man penetrated her from behind, while she held onto a tree. The sound of their ecstatic moans and skin colliding filled the air near the tree. They seemed to be enjoying every second of it, and Claw couldn't help but look.
Sex was something Claw had always wanted to try with a woman, he was 50 and still a virgin. He really wanted to know how it felt to be with another, but no woman would do that with him, not for all the wealth in the world.
"Babe, I'm coming," the lady cried, as the young man finished satisfying himself and pulled out. He turned the woman, grabbing her breast firmly as he feasted on her lips. Claw had never been turned on like this before, probably because he had never seen a woman's nakedness this close, unless they were dead.
"You're so sweet," Adam muttered, in between kissing and sucking her breasts. "Am I sweeter than Astrid, ain't I?" Joy, the young lady, inquired, leaning more into him.
The young man immediately stopped kissing the lady and moved away. "You just had to mention Astrid, didn't you?" Adam said, picking up his pants and start getting dressed.
"Who is this Astrid?" Claw wondered to himself.
"Adams, I'm sorry..." Joy apologized, but Adams wanted no part of it. "Get dressed and go back to base," he commanded coldly, and she quietly obliged, picking up her belongings one by one.
At this point, Claw knew what had to be done. He would have to get rid of this worthless man who derived pleasure in defiling women and dumping them. But just before he could react, Astrid, Adam's girlfriend, stepped forward, her voice calm and soothing.
"Honey, I have been looking all over for you," Astrid said, turning to Joy, who was now fully dressed. "Bestie, you're here too, I thought you were asleep."
"I couldn't sleep, so I came for a walk, and here I met your fiancé," Joy lied, her voice bursting with sincerity that stunned even the great Claw.
There was only one thing left to do at this junction: kill those two animals for their betrayal.
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