Phoenix Maplewood bleed chaos - Printable Version

BLACK CLOUDS BLANKETED THE NIGHT SKY, OBSCURING THE HEALING LIGHT OF THE MOON AND STARS, AND INKY BLACKNESS OPPRESSED THE WORLD BELOW. AT THIS TIME, THE EARTH CEASED TO BE A PARADISE; INSTEAD, BECOMING A HUSHED HELL IN WHERE MONSTERS OF THE NIGHT STALKED. INTENTIONS THEY POSSESSED OFT VILE AND DEVIOUS, DRIVEN BY THE NEED TO IMPOSE TYRANNICAL DOMINANCE UPON LESSER CREATURES. MONSTERS SUCH AS HE; THE LORD OF DARK HOURS WHEN SHADOWS REIGNED. THE RULER OF SINFUL IMPULSES THAT CRIPPLED MORTAL MINDS AND HEARTS; THE SOVEREIGN OF THE DEPRAVED EDEN.

IT WAS WITH CHAOTIC MOVEMENTS THAT SNAKE PROGRESSED THROUGH THE TREES THAT COATED THIS LAND LIKE A BLANKET. HIS BALLETIC MANNER COULD HAVE BEEN EASILY OVERLOOKED BY THE WAY HE MOVED; IT WAS AS IF HE WERE A JUNGLE CAT, BUT A CAT WITH A DISTRACTED MIND. HE CHOSE ONE PATH, THEN WAVERED AND FLITTED TO ANOTHER FOR MERELY A FEW PACES, BEFORE STEERING BACK ONCE AGAIN. INDECISION, INDECISION. DETAILS BEAT INCESSANTLY AGAINST HIS BRAIN, CLOGGING HIS THOUGHTS, INCREASING HIS INSANITY.

HIS TONGUE WAS GONE.

BLOOD FOAMED AT HIS MOUTH, DRIBBLED FROM HIS LIPS, STAINED WHAT LITTLE WHITE THAT WAS ON HIS BODY CRIMSON. THE LIQUID MIXED WITH HIS SALIVA AND SPLATTERED TO THE GROUND BELOW HIM. HE HAD NOT CARED TO RID HIMSELF OF IT; DOUBTED HE COULD IF HE WANTED TO. SNAKE HAD BEEN INTRIGUED WHEN THE GIRL HAD TORN HIS TONGUE FROM HIS MOUTH, EXCITED, MAYBE, BUT NOW? NOW HE WAS PISSED.

THE SERPENT HADN'T BEEN EATING MUCH OF ANYTHING AND THAT FACT WAS VISIBLE UPON HIS FORM. HIS FUR WAS CLUMPED AND DIRTY, THE DARK TRESSES COVERED IN BLOOD AND MUD AND WHATEVER ELSE SNAKE WAS UNABLE TO CLEAN HIMSELF OF. HE HADN'T HAD A DRINK IN A WHILE; HOW LONG, HE DIDN'T KNOW, COULDN'T DECIPHER. HIS SENSE OF TIME WAS DISTORTED.

THE MONSTER WEAVED BACK AND FORTH, HEAD HUNG LOW, JAWS PARTED, EYES GLAZED. HIS MOVEMENT'S WERE UNNATURAL, MORESO THAN NORMAL, AND HE CARED NOT TO STEER CLEAR OF BUSHES. A PAUSE THEN, ABRUPT. THE ONYX BEAST'S HEAD LIFTED HEAVENWARD, AND SNAKE LET LOOSE A STRANGLED ROAR. THE SOUND WAS NOTHING NATURAL, LILTING AND MAD AND DISTORTED, A MORBID DEPICTION OF A HOWL.

Day after day after day after day, the same old routine, different faces, different names, all the same, same, same. Calm was good. Calm was healthy. But calm was not a way of living that Snake had ever adapted to. He was doing so well, so much self-restraint. Pacing, pacing, anything to keep him occupied. Oh, but the monster could not be held at bay forever. Whispers, whispers, just behind him. Buzzing, buzzing, in his ears. Quiet encouragement. Stirring the beast. Egging him on. Nobody has to know, nobody has to know, nobody has to-

A scent. A warm body, coming closer, closer, closer. Snake's head snapped back down and tilted sideways at a near unnatural angle, blood and saliva trickling from his lips at the new rapid change in position. Green eyes focused, losing that odd glazed look and quickly locating the source of the scent: a woman. She was dark, her pelt blending into the blackness that surrounded them in its sweet embrace. She spoke a swift greeting, and one single ear atop the devil's head twitched briefly; subtly. It was the only sign to show he'd heard her.

The mere sight of the stranger had Snake taking a single, stumbling step forwards, his massive body lurching towards her. He'd not met another wolf in what seemed like days (he doesn't remember, doesn't care. His sense of time is no longer correct), and this would have been such fun. He longed to gouge out her eyes, strangle her with her own entrails, make her scream. Better yet? He wanted to pick her apart with his mere words, drive her mad, play with her mind. Oh, how he yearned. As such, that simple feat was no longer possible because he lacked one single thing: his biggest weapon.

Snake, however, would not waste his energy on harming her. He was exhausted, he was hungry, he was in pain, and neither of those were something the Chessmaster would have liked to be at this current time. Perhaps another time, if he disliked her enough, he could have his fun. A question, then, was directed the madman's way, and a slow grin crept across his muzzle, revealing ivory fangs stained crimson. Ah, such a sweet creature this girl was. Naive. Snake's jaws parted, wicked smile still in place, and showed off the dark depths of his mouth. In place of his tongue was a destroyed mass of flesh. Instead of words, a strangled, bloody, gurgle escaped his throat.

Once he decided the stranger had seen enough, his mouth snapped shut with an audible click (Snake did a damn good job hiding the wince that followed) and he furrowed his brows, grin falling from his muzzle. There was a questioning (albeit tired ) look in his eyes when he met her gaze next. She didn't seem intent on harming him, and that was enough to have the serpent comfortable enough to sit down. He'd been walking, standing all day, and it'd been who knows how long since he'd had food, so he sat back on his haunches with an audible huff from his nose.