M - End of All Hope

Mars Bartholomew Russo · 04-02-2011, 09:28 PM

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WARNING This thread contains: graphic sexual content, graphic violence, or extremely offensive material starting with the 1st post. Reader discretion is advised.

OOC: Krystalle plz. This thread is backdated to the 30th of March. Nighttime, Mars' house. hope you don't mind me pping her in the living room. +3

He'd found where the tri-colored man lived. This pack where there were so many different victims. Hurricane stalked through the empty town, it being silent as the night that drifted over it. The only thing he could hear was the loose soil beneath his spiked bat that he dragged across the floor as he slowly trudged through the silent town. He looked as if he was Mars today, because of the ashes that had been washed from his pelt in the rain that he had been caught in the night before. He had not killed, so he had no bodies to burn, no ash to roll in. He looked like Mars, and those white pants were now splattered with blood that too tried to wash away, but it stayed there, staining his beautiful pants. Hurricane didn't care, but Mars would when he woke up.

Hurricane had found his way straight to Mars' house, a scent coming from the inside had been attracting him for quite some time now, weither he knew it or not. His body was raging with hormones, instinct lead him here, to his house where he dwelled as another person. For now though, he was someone that no one really knew here. Hurricane was only known in the underworld. He had no place on Earth, and here he was anyways, stuck inside of Mars' body. Hurricane pushed open the door to Mars' house and he dangerously walked into the dark house. The man's nose had taken in the thick smell that had lead him to his place, and he had followed it. He turned the corner to the kitchen. He sniffed. No, she was not here, so the man moved over to the living room. There she was, sitting there, drinking some tea. He looked at her with his dangerous steel eyes, and a devious grin formed on his maw.

Come...Be mine.. the man ordered, his tongue hanging out of his maw for a moment. She should know what was setting his hormones off, but why he had that deranged look was because he was not who she would think he was. She did not know Hurricane, for she had only seen Bartholomew and Mars. Hurricane tapped his spiked bat on the ground lightly, waiting for the woman to heed to his command.

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