M - Big Bang

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Feet rustled against gradually warming earth as the stormy figure rummaged around her makeshift tent. Many small satchels were gathered and placed into a bag. The slight scent of rope filled the small space as items were stringed along it's length one after another in a quickened fashion. A mongoose, a rabbit, a snake, and the blood drenched leather sack with her prized sacrifice. Once all were where she wanted, the rope was tied around her waist to dangle off her person menacingly. Many who saw her, feared her, or simply feared what they failed to understand.

Kalfou drifted about, darkening the already dim space, but canine eyes were evenly matched with such poor lighting and so she continued, undisturbed. The low growl of the dark spirit served as a melody which helped keep her pace steady. She could waste no time. River knew she was no prisoner to the witches, but what she did know that if any of them, or Greed, knew where she ventured to alone, they would not be pleased. She had no time for explanations when the moonlight was quickly wasting. There were several reasons she needed the moon's light to complete this ritual, but most of all it was to hide her from prying eyes. The act she was about to commit could be considered voodoo, even in her coven's eyes.

Once she had her things gathered, River shifted down to secui form. Her belt remained fastened, but no clothes adorned her body for they weren't needed. In her mouth she held the bag full of necessities for tonight's witch craft. She would not be needing her book of demons, for the demon she looked to summon could not be found on any page within it's leather bindings. She traveled swiftly through the night. The moonlight caused her pelt to shine like mercury and she was but a blur to all who might see her. Once she was well past the camp, it would matter little who lay eyes upon her beastly form.

She traveled for the entire night. She could smell the freshness of morning on the cool breeze, although the moon still hung low in the sky. River made her way through her old pack lands, stepping atop long dried carcasses and since covered pools of spilled blood. Once she got deeper in, she froze. The negativity hit her like a tsunami wave, sending bolts down all four of her lanky halfling legs. The shadow shook her form from head to toe as if to dispel the negative force out through the tip of her tail, but it clung like drying mud . Teeth bared as Kalfou crouched beside her, two glowing crimson gems gazing into her soul just like the night they met. His misshapen maw pulled back in a menacing grin as a growl rattled her form. Does it not excite you River? Does it not send a magnificent chill down your spine and ignite all those resting desires?

I'd be a fool to say otherwise. Let's go. That once frightened snarl turned into a grin as she launched herself further into the depths of the dead pack. Helios was now open, scavengers having removed their barricade to rummage through the old temple. She was glad. Once inside, the stormy figure found a dark corner and shifted back to Optime form. Then, River carefully lit the fire that would serve as her anchor during this summoning. There was a pile or two of left over fire wood from travelers that chose to stay here. She burned some herbs she acquired from Maelyx and the scent clouded the abandoned temple. River inhaled a deep breath of air which calmed the chaos in her bones. Once she found her center, the circle was drawn using on the prey animals on her makeshift belt. The remainder of its life force was rung out to draw the demon's temporary prison. She concocted it using various symbols from her book, completely customized to her grandfather's essence as best she could.

Self proclaimed demon of chaos. I call upon you to speak with me today. I offer you blood, sacrifices, and my body as a channel into this world. Gorge upon my offerings and draw strength from myself, the death, and negativity around you. A bowl was set before the grand circle. River removed the blood drenched satchel and removed the heart of a stag Lux had brought home. It was a grand offering that would satiate even the hungriest demon. Careful hands placed the heart in the bowl and soaked it with blood from the snake. The head of the snake was then chopped off with her small dagger and also placed in the bowl, fangs revealed and shining in the fire's light. Once that was set, River sat cross legged before the circle and closed her eyes. She could feel the whoosh of the already present spirit exploring the room, waiting for the excitement to begin. Once her grandfather took the lure, she would reel him in and the fun would ensue.

A tainted angel wandered through the valley of a land he once called home. A wide-eyed spirit looked upon the horrors they encountered with a sickening sense of pride. All those that had dared to enter these lands were cut down. Returned to the earth serving as food for the life to come. What young child could look upon the scavenged mutilated bodies of invaders with pride? A child whose paws batted at the frozen visage of the bastards whose scents lingered in his memory. Memories of flames. Memories of fear. Memories of weakness. Memories of hatred. Surrounded by collapsed, charred buildings stood a lone boy. A lone child in a valley of death. A lone pup disobeying his father's words.

Born of sin, baptized in blood, and raised in the wake of war. Abaddon aimed to follow the path his father walks even if he himself could not walk yet. This place was called Anathema, a safe place for good people who made bad choices. A place for angels to learn to fly again and devils to earn their halos. At least that's what his father and uncle had said. The child had developed an interest in this land of war, this land of hope and despair. He wanted to see his old home for himself. Especially ever since overhearing his Uncle Greed and dad talking. They spoke of scavengers stealing weapons, necklaces, and other things from the homes. Abby confronted his father about protecting their old home but the goliath merely shrugged it off proclaiming that they needed to look ahead.

Coward. The young boy had snuck out of the home, he would show dad how to be a real hero. A larger than average form weaseled between the carcasses of old buildings hunting any scent that he could find. Searching for villains that needed a taste of justice. Each musk led only to a corpse, someone whom his father had already punished. Corpse. Corpse. Corpse. Corpse. Bird. Corpse. Suddenly, paws stopped. His heart paused. His eyes widened. Thus a grin spread across his muzzle as familiar scent gripped at the heart of the eccentric child. Lanky legs strode onwards knowing who that sweet scent belonged. He darted looking for that fragrant perfume's owner. He went looking for River. Step after step he got closer. Eventually, he could hear her voice.

Pale yellow eyes caught a glimpse of the silvery beauty. Abby prepared himself to say hi but another set of scents caught him by surprise. Outsiders. He wanted to stay. yet he had a duty to uphold, he had to protect her. Abaddon rushed from the witch into the distance where he discovered two grown canines. Their rudely dirty fingers gripped at the jewels of the dead and yanked off the chains. They smiled. They laughed. Abaddon found no joy, he found only hate. Determined teeth dug into a shard of glass, nestling it into the jaws of the young man.

"You see, Tom. This place is a goldmine of treasures." The large mastiff bellowed as he stuffed the necklace into his pouch. The thin Afghan man dusted off a gold chained necklace before he released a low groan "Phil, I am all for an easy score but do you ever think this is too easy? I mean the pack just completely abandoned this place. Someone must have stayed." A clutter of rocks came tumbling down from the rubble as a dusty black figure came barreling out. "What the he..." before the mastiff could finish his sentence the shard was embedded into his calf. A scream filled the air as his partner rushed up to kick the child. Abby felt his weapon connect, he felt it bury itself into the bastard's leg. Each twist caused the man to convulse. With each twitch, he grew closer to victory.

A lean foot scooped up the pup, dragging the glass over his lips cutting their pink interior while his partner's leg was gouged. Abaddon felt himself go flying and colliding against blackened wood. Air rushed from his young body but the fire did not waver. He rose back onto his four legs rushing the Afghan male jumping just in time to bite his leg. The Afghan screamed, he cursed, he thrashed and began squeezing the young boy.

He was tossed once again but both men were hindered by mobility. He had to make this a fair fight somehow. The young pup weaved into the labyrinth of abandoned buildings as the pair hunted for him. Occasionally the child could push debris onto them but for the most part, he waited for them to grow weaker. Each lesson his father had spoken to him began clicking in, yet there was something Abby still had to learn. Pay attention to numbers. The Afghan was battered but the mastiff was missing. Where had he...Suddenly, a clawed hand scooped up the wriggling boy and pounded him into one of the rough walls. Abby snarled back at the man who demanded "Scream for me! Go on you little bastard!" He would not scream for him. No, he was a hero. He couldn't surrender. Not now. Not ever again.

He had to do this. He had to do this for his father. For his uncle. For his sister. For her. His body ached, blood began to spill out, and he felt himself lose strength but he his jaws remained firm on the man's hand.

A deep breath was drawn in through a broad muzzle and between dazzling, young, white teeth. With an elegant exhale, her body relaxed. Shoulders and head rolled back, causing silky, wavy locks to stream off ashen shoulders like a silver waterfall. Another breath was stolen and converted into dark energy which spread through her body like poisoned roots. She fished in the darkness for the spirit she searched for. The bait was her soul, her body, her energy, and the offerings laid out for her grandfather's ghost. No once living soul could come closer to a demon than he had, and River lusted after his knowledge and power.

The Queen of heart's body convulsed with the sudden hit of chaotic energy to her feminine form. She let her thoughts dance to the war, to the blood spilling around her. She wished she knew the glory of disarray back then. She wished she could have participated in that treacherous play, and feast on the power gained by life lost. There was a fraction of her that still felt hatred for Kentaro, for what he caused. River wasn't heartless. That part of her wouldn't allow such participation for it would mean betrayal of all she loved. She was distracted by these thoughts which found their way to Greed, Wrath, Lust, Maelyx, and all those she called family. No. Kalfou sounded in her head, disciplining her for becoming distracted.

Sorry. She quickly apologized, opening her eyes for a split second to view the massive summoning circle before her. Let's try again. A deep breath was taken and with her exhale, came a single word. Come. It was an invitation. She focused now on the day she walked through the battlefield in a demonic haze. She saw blood and weapons dug into bodies that lay lifeless on the earth. This wasn't about what she saw though, it was about what she felt. In that haze, she felt drunk with dark essence. It was that essence that would draw her grandfather here. Just as her thoughts began fogged with a dark shadow and implode upon themselves, the sound of shouting caught her attention. The odds are not in our favor Kal. I have to check it out. If it's danger, then this summoning has to wait.

Kalfou was quiet. He knew well that River would be vulnerable during the summoning. It couldn't happen with danger present. I do smell danger. The wannabe demon chimed in, grinning wide. River's own maw twisted to match the spirit's as she sauntered out of Helios' remains towards the ruckus. Claws held out threateningly at her side, River approached with quiet paws. She crouched behind some rubble and peeked over. What she saw caused her to freeze. Kalfou laughed though, he found joy in the young pup's demise. Her temper flared, heart beat increased, and it became hard for her to quiet her breathing. There was so much despair here still, it was overwhelming. The fact that it was Abaddon, a fragile pup, who was grasped between an adult Luperci's paw tipped her over the edge.

Her maw split open, teeth clenched together and a silent growl bubbled in her core. Her eyes closed, and when they reopened all she could see was the one who held Abby with telescope vision. It was an ugly brute, with a short snout and despicable jowls that held him. There was another, watching nearby. He had silky, long fur and almost feminine features for a man, obviously a mix of some dog. He laughed, even as blood spilled over his eyes. The demoness's tongue slid from between spittle coated teeth to lap at her maw. She had pinpoint focus on these two, and Kalfou was only escalating itf. His veil of darkness washed over her, weighing her down, yet at the same time giving her power, the sense of immortality. They are weak. They are nothing but prey. They pick on the weak because they can't face the strong. You're strong. You can give them the solace they seek. The stormy witch took deep breaths, trying to mask the heaviness of each one. One hand fumbled to her dagger, which was drawn slowly and quietly. Bleed them as sacrifices to all worthy of their blood, for they are not.

River focused, looking between the two. Analyzing. The one who held Abaddon had a gouge in his ankle which streamed blood into a pool at his feet. He wasn't going to get anywhere fast. The other had various scrapes and bruises, including an injury to his head which leaked crimson life force down his face and into his eyes. River crouched down and picked up a rock, the largest one she could throw with some ease. She then waited for the right moment. The womanly one rose a hand to rub his eyes, that was her queue. River chucked the rock as hard as she could at him and landed a blow in his face. He shouted loudly and the ugly one turned to look. Then she rushed forward. Instinct told her if she bled him like the animals she sacrificed he would die quickly. So, she launched herself around his neck. He released Abaddon to throw an elbow back into her rib cage. A nasty snarl left her lips before her grip tightened on him. Get the fuck off me! He shouted, but a voice chanted in her ear louder than her victims. Kill. Make him bleed. Slice his throat clean open. Kalfou chuckled maniacally. Kill him. Do it now!! He shouted, and her dagger found it's way into his throat. The blade embedded it'self into his neck, severing his windpipe, but lacked the efficiency of a skilled warrior.

Before she could ensure his death, she was pulled off. River yelled in defiance and flung her arms wildly, hoping her claws would make contact with the other. She felt them drag through skin, but then felt the cold sting of a blade on her forearm. She continued to yell, unable to see anything but the face of her attacker. Kill him. Don't let him exist in a life he doesn't deserve. He is nothing. He is unimportant. He is weak. Kill him. River was thrown to the ground and several more cuts were landed on her as she continued to claw at her attacker. I'll fucking kill you!! She screamed like a banshee, claws flying. Finally, one of her hits connected on his face and her claw penetrated his eye. She could feel it give way as she pulled, but escaped her hook. The male yelled, almost as high pitched as she had, and fell backwards clumsily. I'll kill you! She shouted before picking up the rock she'd previously thrown and tossing herself onto him. Down, came the blunt weapon, again and again onto him. He pleaded, cried, and whimpered, but she was relentless. Some blows connected to his face, others were blocked by arms, but she continued to beat him down into an unrecognizable pile of flesh and bone.

His friend now knelt behind her, grasping the dagger that protruded from his throat. If he removed it, he would cease to exist in this world.

Blood, the nectar of life that ran through every creature's body. Its noxiously sweet scent of copper began to fill the nostrils of the battered youth. As juvenile daggers dug into the saggy skin of an agitated elder a mixture of reds began pulling beneath his nose. Whose blood he was smelling, he was no longer sure. The only thing he could feel, the only thing he could think, was that he wanted to win. He wanted to win. He wanted them to die He wanted to live.

Pale suns burned brighter in a world that was caving in around them, an optimistic glare of determination. The world grew darker and darker as blood began to spill into his snout, filling the cavities. The child could try to open his mouth to breathe. All he had to do was submit. Give in. Take a breath. No. This was not how it was gonna end. Legs frantically kicked at the man's burly figure and shaved off bits of flesh. No. He wanted to win. He refused to lose. The lights continued to dim. He refused. The copper scent grew stronger. He fought back. His body felt weaker. He would live.

Suddenly, his young body was dropped onto the craggy stones below. The jagged edges shoved the air from his lungs out both his nose and mouth in one violent burst. A puff of red spilled onto the rocks below painting them like false rubies. Eyes raised from the bloodied earth to find the source of his salvation, to find his guardian. A hoarse voice tried to call out to her, but all that came out was a pitiful "River..." A singular paw reached out to her but it paused. He would only get in her way. Right now he needed to get back somewhere safe, someplace he could have an advantage. At least that's what dad would do.

Abaddon reluctantly turned his back to the carnage that unfolded before him to make his way back to where he had seen River. Each step along the way he couldn't stop looking back, he caught glances of her struggle, and it made him ache. That was his fight she had suffered for. Those dirty bastards were tainting her with their filthy damned blood. His breath quickened as his bones felt as if they had begun to ignite. Each step began to feel clumsier. He toppled over stones, skidded against wood, and even toppled onto his side as an incredible surge of pain spread throughout his body. Each time he fell he got right back up. There was no time to rest.

It was grueling, it was excruciating, above all, it was exhausting but he managed to make it. As the lumbering, misshapen pup crawled over the signs written in the earth he christened them with a fresh hue of red. His lengthening limbs would finally topple as he approached the center. His bones burned, his muscles cramped, his organs felt stretched. He couldn't move in this state. He couldn't do much of anything as his body broke itself apart. All he could do was lay there and hope. Hope that she'd be okay.

The shadows ran rampant beneath her skin and through her veins. Darkness edged in on her vision and still, she could only focus on one thing.

Smash Kalfou's laughter echoed in her ears paired with the laughter of other voices she did not recognize. Smash. The warmth of fresh blood against her skin, her coat was drenched with it. Smash. She could hear nothing but the sound of her weapon slamming into her enemy's skull, or what was left of it. Her enemy had since stopped moving, she wasn't sure when. When the sound of laughter and the tangible malice subsided, the girl's hands and the rock they held so tight came to a stop. The stormy girl heaved, adrenaline coursing through her veins, pumping her heart at a dangerous rate.

In an instant, the untapped rage and downright evil left her gaze. In their place, was the expression of a confused, startled girl. Mismatched eyes looked to their right, to see that Abaddon was missing. The one who had previously been holding him, now clung tight to the dagger lodged in his throat. To her left, was nothing. Warmth lay beneath her and her eyes slowly shifted to the massacre laid out in front of her. She could no longer recognize the silky haired dog. His skull had caved in, teeth broken, some lay scattered the ground beside him. She was sure she could see the contents of his skull, brain now swollen from the trauma. So much blood. She'd never seen so much, even with the sacrifices she'd made. She'd never killed something so big. She'd never killed another canine.

She gasped loudly, hands dropping the rock so she could see her own hands, covered in blood. W-what? She questioned, though she knew what had happened. Kalfou encompassed her, as if to comfort her. It did, momentarily, until he whispered in her hear. You've done well. The demons will be pleased. They'll grant you the power you desire now. It didn't comfort her.

A sick knot developed in her gut. River crawled off the corpse and looked back up to the other male, who was still alive. He would surely die, but with the knife lodged in his throat it would be a slow agonizing death. The young witch stood and came to his side. The male's eyes shifted to her. Helplessness and panic screamed back at her, loudly, although he could not utter a word. I-I'm s-so sorry A hand lifted to grasp the dagger and muffled, gurgled, groans filled the air. Her eyes shut as she gripped the weapon tight and removed it, turning to walk away only to stumble and fall to her knees. The contents of her lunch made their way back up and onto the ground before her. She couldn't stomach it.

Again Kalfou's laughter filled the air, just a mischievous grumble of laughter. What's wrong River? Does it not please you? I thought this was what you wanted. After the heaving stopped, she took a knee. This is what YOU wanted! I played along, but this is not what I wanted She stood and made her way toward Abaddon. The smell of his blood intertwined with her victims' and a trail was left behind. Her steps were weak and clumsy, but she continued eventually picking up pace when she realized he might be injured. The adrenaline continued to course, this time for fear the small Lykoi was hurt beyond repair. Abaddon!?

Finally his trail lead her to Helios. She wiggled her way back through the stacked rocks and various items previously used as a barricade. Abaddon!? Are you ok- When she stumbled in, he was in the middle of his first shift. It was gruesome to look as his bones visibly shifted underneath his flesh, a delicate dance that would result in a new body entirely. Despite the nausea and the understanding of how intimate this moment was, she couldn't look away. The dark child lay, twisting and turning in the middle of her summoning circle. It was the most beautiful an gruesome thing she'd ever seen, mesmerizing in every aspect.

Jaws parted as she watched, eyes wide with awe. The spirit's claws dug themselves into her shoulder. A darkness pressed down on her, on the entire temple. It was so heavy. River knelt now, overwhelmed by the dark force. Was it the spirit she'd been trying to summon? Was this Kentaro? Whatever spirits that lurked, their stomachs were full of violence and chaos from today's feast. She couldn't think about that now, all she could focus on was the vile act she'd just committed and the boy that lay several yards from her in the midst of his first shift.

Stupid, so damn stupid. His toe cramped and pulled itself into the floor digging up whatever bloodied debris had remained, scraping at the convulsing flesh. There were two of them, two enemies and only one of him. He felt his jaw lock itself before they were pried open with a primal begun to spread out from his limbs. He could feel their eyes watching him, judging him, treating him like a fucking kid and they were right. With every jolt, he could feel the blood gush from his tattered body. Ash once grey had become soaked a deep crimson. Pitiful yellow eyes glanced towards the dirt like a lamb awaiting its slaughter.

Scream. He could not speak a single word, the agony had overtaken his chords and produced only a swan song. Around the young child, he could feel the warriors judge him, mock him, and turn away in disappointment. His front legs stretched and bent with an audible crack severing and reconnecting sinew. A frothy rose tinted snarl fell from the young one's scratched muzzle. Die. He couldn't feel anything but misery. Die. Their whispers caused his lids to flutter. Die. They were right...Die...they were right...die...they...were...wrong.His front foot had curled into a trembling fist that pounded at the filth caked floor. No, he refused. The young man bit his lip carving into the flesh if it meant he did not have to scream.

Abaddon remembered the misery, the fear everyone here had felt on that day. No more. He was sick of running. His knee slid up beneath his stretching torso. Pale eyes searched amidst the shadows, he snarled at them. No more. Her scent had drifted into his clogged nose and his look of hate was replaced by one of twisted delight. She was safe. River was alive. She had saved him but if these shadows meant to harm her then he'd happily tear them apart. Stained lips peeled back to reveal jagged daggers. Once dying flames had been born again as two unwavering suns that demanded, dared them to come closer. Slowly his back feet shifted beneath him supporting his new frame.

He stumbled tossing dirt to the side but regained his footing to meet the one closest to River Their eyes met and that sneer remained. New hands lifted clenching into fists before opening up to show his newest weapon. Shimmering black daggers. Abbadon felt renewed but exhausted. Battered but refreshed. Pale suns darted to River, the bloodthirsty sneer replaced by one of determination "Are you okay?" The phantoms and the energy had confused him Were they his own emotions or were they real or was the damage getting to him? Regardless, this time he was ready. No running.