My breaths came in short, sharp bursts, and my muscles quaked with each inhalation.
"Ugh, damn," I winced, following a ragged sigh; the simple act of breathing sent ripples of searing agony throughout my body.
Meanwhile, Vincent stood before me, his gaze unflinching and unwavering. Only when he sighed and shook his head did his expressive grin falter. "I apologize; typically, I prefer a more efficient method of dispatching a foe - a slice to the neck or stab to the heart," his words carried a tinge of genuine remorse.
"I don't relish the thought of causing you pain, but I'd rather not ruin my suit with your entrails. Unfortunately, that means I'll have to destroy your organs with blunt trauma," his eyes sank in pity as if staring at a wounded puppy.
"It'll be painful," he continued, adjusting his black gloves, "but it's unavoidable. I hope you'll forgive me."