The intense dread of death breathing right down on his neck made the guard tremble, he had had close brushes with it before, or so he used to believe, but it couldn't be compared to what had just happened to him, death had stared into him, and he had no other choice than to stare back, he became well aware of what was coming and could only crumble, realising that that becoming a mangled up mess at the hands of Lady Syklon would be much better than death, he came to know that nothing he had ever experienced could even be compared to it.
Truly, there was no fate worse than death.
The dark whispers that reached him in that instant, normally, he would have disregarding the words of a creature such as this, but it offered a way to avoid the ultimate end of his existence, in that very instant, he trusted those words with his entire being, and thus, believing that his life could be spared in exchange of the measly life of his fellow, the dread was replaced with a cold composure.
