Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and the minions for reading.
He stood beneath the arch with no idea who the target was.
“You’ll smell him coming,” he’d been told, the only information he had to go on.
Problem was he could smell every one of them, and they all smelled the same. Filthy creatures. They reeked of perfumes and body odor- a pungent combination in even the best of circumstances.
A sweeter smell wafted into his nostrils- different than the others, pleasant even. His transparent, second eyelids slid closed. A sea of brown stench flooded his vision, in it a lone pillar of stunning purple.
Unsheathing his knife, he grinned.