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Writing The Elvenmage

moon-scar demon

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hey, read this and tell me wut you think.
The sun rises black as night, hot as hell itself. It was an unnatyral sun,not of this world.Demons wake and the dead walk, what once was clean and pure now tainted and made vile.Green grass and bright flowers wilt and die, their blades and petals turning brown and crunchy. People choke on the air, their lungs burn and sear, upping flames inside their very bodies.But lo! a figure steps from the shadows,ash and soot cover his boots.His hair jet black,his eyes a vivid green,his sword gleaming, dark demon blood stains the silver the blade.Itself emitting an otherworldly glow,evil is he?no,but he is not yet good entirely. He is but a wanderer,alone yet strong. Demons lay dead all around him,their bodies torn and ripped open,entrails hang abroad. Blood spatters are everywhere,including on the elvenmage's fair face.Corpses begin to stink in the searing sun,their mouths contorted and gaping abroad. He walked calmly thruogh and over the bodies,his ever at the ready. Then something flew at his face,coming so fast he hardly had time to blink.It screamed a shrill cry but amazingly was cut down.Before it was sluaghtered it left its mark upon the elvenmages pure faceb. Bright,crimson blood oozed from three thin guages on his left cheekbone. "Damn thee to hell vile wretch!May you writhe in pain your whole god-forsaken life!" He contiued weave through the bodies,kicking and stabbing at the ones that still twitched. His lungs burned from the smoke that filled the air,the sky was a brick-red color,puffs of black smoke everywhere. The elvenmage walked on. And his name be Arcanek,The Black Mage.
so tell me wut you think, i want to turn it into a story! :demon:
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