Got a war hammer wielding, villainous Viking?
We do!
CRUNCH!
The car-smashing figure
walked through the aura of a streetlight, on the way to his next
victim.
“Unbelievable,” Jake
said. “A Viking?”
The large man’s black
breastplate armor and horned helmet shone under the light. His long
red hair and red cape flowed in his wake like fire from a falling
star.
He stopped next to a car,
raised something in his hand high overhead, and then hurled it down
into the hapless driving machine.
The window glass exploded
into the street and onto the sidewalk as the car was flattened to the
pavement.
“That looks like good
cover,” Jake said, jumping behind a hedge he’d discerned in the
darkness. Peeking around the side of it, he watched in stunned
disbelief as the Viking assessed the total destruction, grunted in
satisfaction, and then strutted down the line to the next parked car.
Another car bit the dust.
Suddenly, Jake heard
something that sounded like a jet, rushing in their direction.
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