Jaber knelt down, gritting his teeth and looking at the blood gushing out of his leg, as though a blade had been driven in his shin.
He looked up to the young magician, laughing and holding up a doll made out of clothes, roughly resembling Jaber.
A nail had been driven through the doll's left leg, and blood dripped down the length of it, much like how it was flowing down his.
" It's not the end yet," the magician giggled mischievously as he pulled another nail and struck the doll's shoulder.
Jaber let out a groan as he felt something drop on his shoulder and blood stream down, blotching his white clothes.
" In the end, you're still nothing before the strength of a magician," the young man said, pulling a nail that glimmered in the light and leveling it at the doll's chest. " Begone."
He pushed it, and more blood seeped down Jaber's front. But something felt wrong.
