Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...
The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.
"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...
Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.
IP: 162.40.210.172
Posted on May 5, 2010 at 05:57:18 PM by Devil May Cry
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Finally, he could see the wisdom of how close she was to certain death beaming in her optics. Good little puppet, he thought. Now, you're catching on. She seemed to be considering her options as she stood there, and he tilted his pate to the side slightly, watching with interest as the wheels slowly started turning. He figured he already knew what she was going to do. If she was smart, she would turn and run now. Instead, she would try to make small talk, show him she was smart and deadly with nothing but empty words. He couldn't be convinced by words, if she really was smart, she would know that. She came to the borders with a lack-a-daisy expression, saying she was looking for a home. She probably had chivalrous thoughts about it, he was sure. Something about a pack to defend, honor, that sort of thing. Well, Malignant wasn't about honor. An honorable death? Hell, we'd just as soon kill you in your sleep. His lips were still stained with the blood of an innocent puppy. He had killed the welp then laughed as the mother turned to defend her corpse. He had then killed the mother. Yep, no honor here. The vixen spoke again and he smirked in humor. She had just contradicted herself, saying she was young but with years of wisdom. So if she was two, she had two years of wisdom. Before you're one, you rarely leave the side of your dam, so what could she possibly know in that one year away from the teat? That she could hunt by herself? That she wanted a pack? Those were helpless thoughts, not worthy of a true killer. Killers were loners by nature, not seeking out socialization. Probably makes you wonder why he was here, then. Truth be told, the chap had gotten bored. He'd had his share of paid assassinations, staying to the borders of packs and killing off whoever they wanted and in exchange he got the run of the pack lands and whatever he wanted from the females, whether he had to force them into it or not. As long as he didn't kill them, he was safe. That was the bitter exchange any alpha had to make when they called on Devil. He might impregnate all your female offspring, but at least he would leave them intact. Not emotionally intact but none the less, they would live. He'd heard stories of some wenches killing themselves once the signs of pregnancy hit them, dreading the thought of raising a killer's offspring. That thought always brought a chuckle to his dry livids. Some were too weak to move for days after he got through with them. The pack would have to find them, sniff them out in some little cubby hole in the woods and cry silently at the sight they find. A breathing, bloodied mass of fur and flesh. So he had to rough some up before they would comply to his wishes? The demon did what he had to do. He always got the kills done, so no alpha had the guts to complain. It had always been the deal. He hunted for himself so they didn't have to worry about him stealing some of their kills. Overall, he thought it was a nice deal. His attention was back on the minx before him now, smirking wider as she talked about what pleased him. Hell, her guts on the ground would please him. Her crying as he ripped into her flesh and straddled her would please him. He wasn't that hard to make smile, after all. As she said her final words, he let one sentence slip. "I beg to differ, love." In that, he meant she was probably exactly what he thought she was. When she took a few steps back from him, he chuckled, proving himself right. She may convince herself it was see him better, but the truth was, she would never see him right. He was a cloak of the night, blending in perfectly, his golden lanturns the only threat that you could see. She spoke again and he answered in return. "If you already know then why are you still here? You're damn well lucky I haven't moved yet for I did warn you that I have already given my last warning, yet here I am, sparing your life. Leave now and maybe if or when you do come back, you'll bring a bit more sense with you. I'm rather sparing you a lot of grief for if the alpha was here, she would give you no mercy. Consider yourself lucky and scat from my view, dear, for if you don't, your breath will last only a few more precious seconds." With that spoken, he silently cursed his softness and turned away from her, already heading off to meet another hopeless being who thought they had what it takes to live here. Again, he thought, think again. ................................ Devil May Cry//male//gray wolf//four years old//black coat//golden eyes//single//manipulated by DarQ 
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