Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock

His clock seems to have run out, the lifespan of his purpose almost constricting into oblivion. Why was the crazed ghoul here? To what reasoning was he permitted to plague this world and the last, god fear if he is allowed to live long enough to see the next. Like a disease he has slid amongst the heathens and the scoundrels, feeding on their sorrows and blackened souls while ridding the world of the worst of the worst only to also steal away the purity as well. He does not discriminate towards the souls he devours, towards the voices that scream for pity. It is never his decision as to who will leave this world, their inner beings becoming forever locked within his multilayered conscious. Like leeches the souls suck into his own, almost causing him to lose himself in it all.

So once more I question, what is the purpose of the crazed ghoul?

Deranged eyes lift from her partially bare neck, satisfaction and hunger sliding briefly into steel features from her slight refusal to openly obey him. Good, don’t make this easy on the beast he prefers a challenge, a fighter a strength that can match his own yet fail to over power. His chest seems to heave at this emotion swirling within. There is no desription, no words that can explain what the monster has going on inside him. He fights it, like a new disease that his attacks his cells and they desperately attempt to fight back. But it is strong, over powering him and causing his massive frame to seem to weaken. Muscles tense and relax, tendons seeming to scream with aged effort. Bones creaking with each refusal to move his body closer, harder onto her.

She is not ready.
Hell, he isn’t either.

This isn’t love, isn’t something that comes from the heart for he knows this as much. The ghoul has no heart, it beats emptily, merely a muscle that keeps him alive and it barely does that. There are no magical butterflies in his stomach, no spreading of warmth through his thick frame. No, this is something different, an all consuming pain that he has never experienced. Pain, yes i said it. He is not meant for a thing such as this, he is not meant for this pale demon before him. Something is so very wrong with this and yet, wrong is something that is right when it comes to his life.

Her light tones come from her gently and he lowers his head, eyes meeting her own as he listens with such intensity it appears to be a life or death job. Sand, sea, glorall and as if on cue the salty aroma of the ocean breaks through his nares almost masking her delicate perfume. Nose wrinkles in disgust, a short snort falling from him as ears flatten upon massive skull. No no no this will not do. Glorall, a pack land that is not his and his alone. Therefor, she was not his and his alone. Oh no, this absolutely would not do at all. It is impulse and he draws forward once more, chest pushing against chest as teeth part. His eyes seem to glaze over, a low snarl breaking the gentle area between them. Her partially bare neck in reach and the beast snaps. The inner battle rages, teeth clamping on his own teeth instead of her fur and he rips from her, saving her life and his own. Mind flickers, eyes close and the monster paces away from her, his control ebbing away from him as the one inside threatens to consume him. A pack. A PACK. he could kill her, then no one would have her and she would be his, a favorite soul to add to his collection.

He stops pacing, head snapping towards her as intense, shaded gaze locks on to her steadily. He breathes. Slowly gul breathes. And then, sickenly enough, lips peel back, so horrendous its an absolutely breathtakingly sight. A smile, gul has smiled. His purpose? Vesper.

“I am Gul, the ghoul of Vesper, fae of the sea” his baritones slide from that wicked grin, head lowering stiffly in a… bow? Yes this is perfect.

“show me your world. Show me Glorall.”