Demon Slaying

Its skin was grey and textured like weathered stone coated in still unmentionable fluids. The odour was a horrific pungent mix of animal, burnt plastic, decay, and hot spices. It waved a malformed, too many jointed arms, and a host of buzzing insects swept into the room, called by the Demon.

The swarm hovered in midair, the buzzing insects swarming over each other as they began to take a pseudo-solid shape, a handle or grip of some form. It gripped its weapon with a hand with an excessive number of fingers, each finger with a disproportionate number of joints.

The blade took the form of more buzzing insects and measured at least a meter and a half in length. It swung a masterful figure of eight and then lashed out.

It impaled the Legionnaire closest and hoisted him off the floor, the impromptu blade protruding from between his shoulder blades. He twitched in agony as he slid down the length of the raised weapon.