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The moon rested high in the night sky, casting a small glow of light down upon the window of the toy store. The light was just enough so that the inside of the store was glowing, shimmering here and there off of various toys and small trinkets that still lined the shelves. Conri had made his way inside some time ago, finding shelter from the warm night, a place to keep himself until the sun came in to the sky again. It had been days since he had slept, since he had slipped away from Asa and her home.
The young hybrid was sitting in the middle of the floor, a small pile of stuffed toys at his side. There were various different creatures, dogs and cats and rabbits. Clutched tightly in his hand was a dirty coyote toy. One if it's legs was ripped away, leaving stuffing popping out of the hole there. One the ground beneath it, resting between his legs, was what appeared to be a small white stuffed rabbit. After a moment of silence, Conri slammed the toy in his hand down against the rabbit over and over again. "Fucking whore!" He repeated, though his voice was low and laced with a growl.
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There was something terrible in the air. Ahren could sense it, as he had sensed Matinee not all that long ago. It smelled like disease and tasted like atomic fusion. He had come here house ago and fallen asleep in the peak of a thunderstorm, smothered by the sound of rain. What had woken him was the noise that begun not all that long ago—a scratching desperation that dragged him from the dream world and made his eyes snap open. For over half an hour he had watched the boy, a three-legged figure that was remarkably familiar. Realization dawned on him in that growling voice; the boy looked like Hollow. Seemed like he was taking after him as well.
“Most of them are,” he said suddenly, very clearly. Like the ghost of the shop keeper he stood behind the counter, leaning on it and studying the ruined toys will dull interest. The crossbow was still on the floor, but his eyepatch was doing well to hide the ruined eye. The thickly dust coated glass case did the same for the knife on his side, and the accompanying cargo shorts.
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This sucked. :| Sorrreh.
Conri hadn't the faintest idea that anyone had been there, nor had he really cared. The voice came just as he released the coyote toy, dropping it to the ground. Jade eyes rolled in a slow sort of fashion, bringing themselves around to stare up at the owner of the voice. There was no hint of recognition there, though the quiet laughter in his head suddenly roared to something more. He knew who it was almost instantly and seemed rightly amused about it.
"They deserve to die.." He said quietly, using the side of one leg to hold down the white rabbit as he grabbed for it, popping the head off in a quick motion. He held it in his hand for a time, fingers curled tightly around it, keeping his eyes on the stranger.
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He was a feisty little bugger. A thin smile crept over Ahren’s face and did not meet his eyes, which were remarkably dark and calculating. The wolf knew he was playing with fire, but he had been doing that for years. Long before he had started setting cars aflame and burning churches to the ground. “All traitors do,” he said, voice almost a purr. His hands began toying with the glass counter, drawing old symbols in the dust. Most of them he didn’t remember, their meanings lost in the space and time that had been filled with sunspots and heroine. “But the rabbit wasn’t responsible, now was he?” Grinning, half-mad, like his father and his father’s father before him.
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Traitors. The words lingered in his head a moment, which cocked slightly to the side. She was a traitor, he reasoned with himself. A traitor to the heart, were he so sappy to think such a thing. One clawed finger drug over the small plastic eye of the rabbits head, finally turning jade eyes to stare at it. "I made her pay." He almost laughed, almost caught himself up in the hysterics of it, but fought it back quickly. Finally, after a quiet moment, he toss the head aside, using his feet to shuffle across the ground and turn his body toward the counter. "But has she paid enough?" He asked suddenly, as if the question was some brilliant revelation.
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Well he had done something, but that didn’t seem to be enough. He hadn’t killed her, though, which meant there was a line he had not crossed. Even Ahren had not crossed that line, but the impulse was there. She was here and she had to pay. She had to own up for the terrible things she had done. Folding one foot over the other, Ahren leaned onto the counter, and heard it creak beneath his weight. “What does your heart tell you?” He might have been speaking about love, from the tone he used—but it was his eyes and his face which betrayed his true intent.
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His heart, he pondered for a moment, dragging one clawed finger over the floor, making small shapes just in front of him. What did his heart tell him? Had he ever considered that before now? He tried to listen for it and, fortunately for him, the laughter faded away just long enough for him to do so. What was the sound of a heart? To Conri, it was a whisper, words that were just repeated over and over. He stopped finally, bringing his eyes back to the larger male. A slow grin spread upon his features, stretching out across his face, and he spoke. "String her by her guts from a tree." That was what his heart told him.
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A twisted chuckle escaped the blonde, who looked down at the symbols he had drawn and found them unfamiliar. “Well what have you got to lose?” He pushed himself up, and turned to the shelves behind the counter. On one of them was lined with baseball memorabilia, and it was on this shelf he found a bat. Some long dead star had signed it, forever ago. Ahren picked it up and held it in one hand, testing the weight, the balance. “There is serenity in chaos,” he stated calmly, and then gripped the baseball bat with both hands. He swung it at the shelf, sending the objects flying through the air, into the wall. Ahren turned back, grinning, and tossed the bat towards the red male.
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The odd stranger was right in more ways that he might have known. Conri had nothing left to lose, he had already lost it all. A pack, friends, a mate, and in some ways even his sanity. At one point or another he had even lost his will to live. Now though, from the persuasions from this stranger, Conri knew that it could all mean something more. The bat slammed against the shelf, sending objects flying, and Conri could only cackle at the sight of it all. It was beautiful in a way and, when the bat was tossed to him, he half-grabbed it, rather happily. He used the bat, bracing it against the ground to bring himself to stand, before lifting it away with one arm. Holding it tightly, adjusting his grip (it was difficult to hold with one arm), he swung it hard in a downward motion, toward one of the wooden displays. Toys went flying and the old wood buckled beneath the force, shattering through the middle.
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He kept grinning, partially at the destruction, partially at the way the stranger handled himself. Like a bird with a broken wing (or in this case, no wing at all). Ahren moved from behind the counter, around the stranger as he continued to destroy the shelves. The blonde bent over and grabbed the ruined rabbit toy, holding it in both hands idly. As the noise continued behind him, he returned to the glass display case of a counter and stuck the rabbit inside. Then, with the tranquility of a man who had done nothing more then step out to the bar, he drew and lit a cigarette. As the smoke formed a dirty ash-brown halo around his head, he continued grinning. “She probably never loved you,” he said with the same calm. “You probably meant less to her then the other men,” he continued, speaking in a broad term, not aware of how close to home he was hitting.
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Conri could have spent forever smashing thing, slamming the bat against anything and everything that he could. Even as the stranger made a sudden movement from behind the counter, he continued, up until the point that he spoke. His breathing was hard, panting when he finally let his arm fall limp, though he still clutched the bat tightly. His ears tipped forward quickly, turning back to face the counter. Feet shuffled along beneath him, knocking away the shattered remnants of shelves and broken toys. "Both of them." Words came through clenched teeth, full of anger despite the fact that he fought to catch his breath. "She loves them both more than she ever did me."
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Ahren smiled, smoke billowing out of his nose and between his teeth. “Then start with them,” he said, and let out a wicked laugh. It was desperate, cruel, mocking. He laughed for himself, and he laughed at the boy. Then all to suddenly he reached forward and grabbed the younger male by the throat. “Don’t let them laugh at you,” he hissed, and gave him a shove backwards.
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His breathing had since calmed, more paced and smooth, but the words that swirled in his head only proved to push him onwards. He wasn't the whore, not the one that had betrayed the trust of a loved one by sleeping around. Why should he be the one being laughed at? It was he who deserved the last laugh, he who should inflict the same amount of pain on them that they had caused. His lover, his best friend, and a trusted pack mate. In an instant he seemingly threw his right side forward, bringing his arm around and over his head until the moment the bat smashed the glass counter, shattering in a sudden rain of glass shards. "They won't laugh at me!" He practically yelled, growling deep within his throat.
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