IP: 70.182.97.238
Posted on February 17, 2014 at 03:16:40 AM by L U C ! A N
Black-light pits stare out across the vast expanse of the Crags, as harsh and unforgiving as the topography itself as they tracked and guaged the various heat-signatures that registered in my scope of vision. Tattered radars hone in on the muffled shuffle of paws through snow, the rasped huff of of strained breath released from warm lungs. Usually the Crags were sparsely trafficked and rarely inhabited due to their inhospitable climes and scarce food sources. But recently there had been a sudden surge of lupine scent smogging the airways and clinging to the skin of things. Even now, several targets had blipped onto my radar, the majority of which seemed to be coalescing south of my position whilst others lingered along the outskirts, lurking or stalking as I did now. It didn't take rocket science to figure out that another damn Cuddle Puddle was taking place, eager suitors or unsuspecting victims of an Imprintation. Lips snag across curved fangs in disgust, the old scar that ravages one eye puckering as I focus on the group from afar. Little Fuckers. Imprints were over-rated. All it ever brought me was pain and dispair. It weakened me and stripped me of my Free Will. Fighting against it had only lead to ruin for all parties involved. Jawls straddle the midriff of a fox I'd caught earlier in the day. It's Life-force hadn't fully fled from it's carcass, but I knew it wouldn't be much longer. The pathetic bag of meat was already eviscerated, intestines peaking from the deep puntcures in it's stomach, fractured bones jutting from several points of it's fragile frame. It stared at me with blank eyes that still trickled tears, already past spasming fits of seizures while blood trickled from every open oriface. It was too far gone, to weak even to protest or attempt any kind of defense and my canines crunched into it's ribs again as I picked it up and shook it like a chew toy. Crimson spray gushed as teeth gnashed, tiny droplets buffeting my face and streaming down my chest in vivid tracers that raced along and wove into my own sterling brindle patterns. Monolithic height braces into a frigid winter gale, thick mohawk-like ruff billowing in the fray as I turned and stalked away from the damnable fuck-fest taking place. Splayed forepaw creates abhorrent forked-prints in the snow, the disfigured pad split nearly half-through with two twos branching forth from either side. It was a reminder of my narrow escape with Death when the Meteor slammed into these very Hills and sought Death with a vengeance. The fur of my tail had finally grown back, though one ear was fairly well cleaved clean off during the catastrophic event. The Reaper had meant to finally collect my Soul and deliver it to Hell where it belonged, but I have evaded his clutches yet again. I figure there's a special spot with my name written on it down there amongst the other Diabolics, and the Devil will have his day soon enough... but I wasn't going to give in all that easy. Rosie rivulets spatter the snow in my wake, massive Varg's helm lolling back upon collossal shoulders of strength as I tossed my toy several feet into the air and snatched it back up as I went. It was an idle thing almost, the way a man flips a coin or strokes his chin in moments of deep thought. I spend much of my time wrapped up in thought now. Delicious obsessive thoughts. Thoughts of Sin and wickedness, bloodshed and devilish temptations. I've not come out of isolation since the cataclysm. I'd gone rogue, allowed myself to become a Savage, indulging in the most barbaric of fantasies and maccabre whims. |
Replies:
- NO SALVATION. - By stella February 18, 2014 at 02:20:05 AM
I Wear This Crown Of Thorns - By Lucian February 19, 2014 at 02:27:21 AM
NO SALVATION. - By stella February 21, 2014 at 07:07:41 PM
Maybe I'm a Different Breed - By Lucian February 25, 2014 at 01:27:24 AM
NO SALVATION. - By stella March 10, 2014 at 11:12:06 PM
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