FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-11A

“SQUAWK!”

Some days you just regretted waking up.“SQUAWK!”Some days you regretted even the concept of leaving your bed and that was a much more specific kind of regret; the kind that usually started up when his phone started buzzing on the low table and a purple-haired pervert rolled over in his blankets to tell him it was ‘that woman again’.Some days you—“SQUAWK!”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

Other days you were several stories in the air above Gojō-dōri with two hooked claws punching through the shoulders of your — very nice — leather jacket while you were hauled up into the gray morning sky by a decaying vulture thing while you kept on hitting it in the leg with a bamboo sword.Very specific. The shinai came down again, Finn swinging it one-handed into the joint of the Devil’s ankle with a loud crack. Nothing much happened past a puff of gray skin blowing out into the wind. Also, not how I planned my morning.He’d been thinking a late breakfast, mostly, with a little nap on top of that.Unfortunately, he’d been thinking wrong.Tall and slack-built, the monster currently making his morning hell was just ugly to the heights anything could be— surprisingly outdoing the Mongrel Devil from a little while ago— its body already looking near-death. Finn wanted to make it all the way dead, though. Gray flesh hung off the monster in fold after fold, skin more loose than an unfitted bedsheet, so open that Finn could make out the dark red meat throbbing and wriggling underneath.

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> A CURSE UPON THEE 3-11A