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cradle me in your crooked heart
The different sections of Tsunami's brain worked like a machine he had no control over. He was wholly and entirely unaware of the raging storm going on in Laruku's brain because he was too absorbed in his own. That one part of his brain, the part that was normally working, it had been shut down; the lever had been pushed from the bright-green ON button to the angry red OFF, and some other part of the control center in his head had automatically activated. Mischa was screaming her encouragement like an ancient Roman watching a lion tear apart some hellbound Christian, or a gladiator slaughtering a fellow fighter because, well, that was his job, right? You had to do what you had to do. The world was coloured in shades of blood red and the only thought in his head was to finish this, to do as he had promised. The fucker had eaten his son and hurt Phasma, and Phasma was one of the most precious people in the world; for that he would die. In no way did he care if there was some of Laruku left in there. There was a certain art to separating your emotions from the call of duty. He had only just learned this.
Laruku was dead to him anyway. Their relationship was still a living thing, hibernating forever now in the back of his mind. But it still lived. Just like his love for those who had passed away or left him, just like his hatred for those who had done wrong. Tsunami was like a history book -- nothing ever really left him. The book merely got longer. And longer. New pages added every day. According to the book, as stated, Laruku had been dead to him for a long time. Might as well make it official.
If only he had seen this coming two years ago.
He felt the claws in his skin and saw the hybrid's teeth flashing before his eyes. He had landed hard with one arm to catch himself on the ground; the other was free and he raised it quickly to take the brunt of the other male's attack. It wouldn't be the first time he'd had someone's teeth in his arms. Shoving his arm forward, he used as much strength as he could muster to push the hybrid back against the ground. Malachi had been too drunk to do much more than fuck up the gray wolf's face. No loss. He'd never been too pretty anyway. But this, this was different, this was good. This was feeding the monster. Tsunami liked the pain as much as he liked dealing it out. Made him feel alive, it made the screaming in his head feel almost like home. That part of his brain that loved and hated and felt things so deeply, so strongly, it was as if it were long dead. This was the sadist in him taking control, the demon he'd inherited from his father -- funny how Laruku was able to bring the evil in him out better than most anyone else. Love and hate, it was a thin line, blurred in so many places.
Most of this blood was his. My my, that had to change, now didn't it? With his own rough hand Tsunami swiped at the red-eyed male's cheek and throat area, intending to bury his claws as deep as he possibly could in the other male's skin underneath that velvet fur. Maybe he'd tear out an eye in the process -- wouldn't that be fucking awesome. Meanwhile he was, of course, fighting to get his teeth in there as well, to that soft fleshy part of the neck that would simply spill forth with blood when torn apart. Like overripe fruit. The thought was kind of making him hungry.
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