On A Mission

Nemesis didn't hesitate to lunge at the skinny, lame excuse of a wolf. Whoever he was, and emphasis on was, he should have known better. Nobody trespassed on the superior pack. And nobody left unscathed.


She sank her teeth into the flesh of the male, not noticing the pitiful cries of agony it gave out.  She had it by the soft flesh of his neck, a vulnerable spot for him to be in. Now he was a puppet on a string, having to painfully be pushed around to her enjoyment. Pulling him down, she raked her razor sharp nails at his stomach. The cries only grew louder, but she didn't care. This was no longer about a simple meal being stolen. It was something much deeper, a feeling in her gut that was growing and growing, like a monster breaking free of its metal cage. And once a monster was let loose, there would be no stopping it. The more red she seen, the hungrier she got for the screams and pleads. It was her equivalent to sunny days and long walks on the beach.
But she wasn't sloppy with her work, she knew better than that. If you want to torture, you've got to do it right. She bit into the soft spot of his ear, having just enough room to scrape at his hind legs, and eventually giving one heavy blown kick, snapping the bone right out of the flesh. The scars on this one would doom him from society. She had no pity. 

But she stopped. Panting, she stepped back from the bloody mess. You could hardly tell that it was a wolf anymore. But that's the way she wanted it. To suffer for the rest of it's pitiful life was a much better punishment. She easily could have administered the death bite to the back of the neck, but she chose not to, not out of mercy.

There was no mercy left for her to give. No more.

She turned to Ayana, once again noticing the female. "It shall suffer, a better punishment. I hope you got the food. I'm starving" she said, not taking notice to the whimpers and painful cries of the broken male, whose breath was now labouring. Soon, he would die, but for now he would suffer.