Inside his office, he tried to set the blade on the table. But to his surprise, his hand wouldn't let it go.
"What the fuck!" He pulled at it, hoping to break free, but it felt as if the weapon had fused with his grip.
On the third try, a thick, viscous substance leaked from the hilt.
The inky substance coiled up his arm until it stopped below the elbow.
"Goddammit," Luck hissed, flexing his hand, only to watch the tendril squeeze tighter.
"First sign you're sentient, I'm selling you back to the online store!"
The sword vibrated, almost in protest.
"Fuck! Don't tell me you're from some parasite planet, and you'll start whispering corny jokes in my head. Please don't. I already have that covered."
A sudden jolt of pain surged through him, like an electric shock that ignited every nerve ending.
thud!
He dropped to the floor, panting. The sensation changed, feeling like countless needles stabbed into his pores.
