Why does he come?

Emerald eyes glowed with sicking, unholy ease from within his cave, that darkness concealed between the tumbled rocks of the crater that presented a gaping hole of vile blackness between cold, dead stone and dying trees above. Here, within this one section of earth it seems the trees did not flourish so well, they remain dead or dying as if the very creature nestled within the bowls of this place drains the life from them to feed his depraved hunger and need. Lips pull back from white fangs as a rush of air seethes between those deadly daggers, rising like dragging smoke to cast a holy of ghostly tendrils about the demonic creature as he watches from within his cave. He has well outgrown the dens of the earth upon which he once forced himself, the nightmarish creature now seeks the darkness of caves alone, the chilled air and cold stone unfelt through the thickness of his obsidian cape, that blanket of blackness draped across him by the very shadows that caress him now, hiding him, concealing their King against the world outside as night baths the earth in darkness. Yet it is not the night that summons him forth now, no, no, another comes, one filled with life and blood, one who reeks of an odour that contorts and savages upon his vile mind. He remembers that scent, remembers the white one, Jaidah, for this scent he knows well and tolerates only upon the females of his species. He has devoured man of his brothers, or torn them apart, one by one. He is a creature unbound by emotion, controlled only by instinct and nothing more- and instinct drives him to destroy Jaidah’s other sons.

They are weak, vile creatures, unworthy of life. They are not like him, never like him and thus unworthy of the life wasted within their veins, a life his stomach screams for and one that the demons within his mind claw and screech for until he is driven from his cave, sliding out and into the darkness of the night to slide like a slick of oil atop the water it poisons. He comes upon silent wings, the true Angel of Death, the true King of the night as his depraved mind follows the scent of warmth and saliva pools within his jaws at the thought of scarlet liquid awash within his throat. He does not understand blood ties, does not understand he seeks his own brother. Knows only that they, as he, have come from Jaidah, that they, his siblings, must be destroyed, ripped and torn into pieces, for only he must remain. Instinct demands this, the other males are weak- like Kraddy, yes, Kraddy with his Dirty White Paws. Heckles raise along his spine liked wicked knives as his neck arches like a stallion of black as he prances and screams his challenge though indeed Tobias remains silent as lips part from fangs once more and the blackened creature slides within the shadows that caress his form with loving desire.

He circles wide and wider still, dead, devoid eyes staring ahead, always ahead as if unseeing, as if unfocused until he glides forward on legs so long and strong, muscle rippling and gleaming, displaying his perfection upon this earth. For the son of Jaidah and Demitri is the ultimate sin in this world, lust and death intertwined as those demons laugh and hiss. Forward he comes and forward once more until those tendrils of darkness part to reveal the demonic male himself as he slides behind the small one, the boy still gangly and undergrown with youth and foul weakness until Tobias stands behind him, above him, towering over him like the Black Angel himself as rivulets of saliva slide from his jaws to land upon the boys back and tail, announcing his unholy presence as dead eyes stare upon him and whitened fangs gleam within the night, his body near invisible, encased in darkness as if the creature is everywhere at once before those jaws part to bath his infant brother in heat. A growl, a roar, a twisted scream of sorts seems to fill the air as his vocal chords embody each one and contort them into one sound of horrific proportions that dies the moment his jaws slide together once more and a deep snarl twits and writhes within his throat, a continuous, monotonous drone.

“Yesss?”

He hisses the word slowly, deeply, a mimic of Jaidah herself, for that is all he is, a soulless creature with a contorted mind that plays at life...and lures his victims in.


t o b i a s 6 years ~ Owner of Aaliyah ~ Stalker of None ~ Loner