I think I’m scared of all the signs

He feels like he’s floating, but there’s so much pain.

Pain, pain, pain.

His eye — his body. It’s on fire. He’s bleeding — dying.

Mercury…he’s dead too.

Those wolves — as dark and gloomy as the night sky. They killed them. Mercury’s own father — his own family — killed them. All because of their differences. All because of their love…

They store him to pieces — both of them. Mercury tried to warn him. He tried to tell Prince that they had to leave. He knew they were coming. The striped boy wondered how they found out. Could they smell him on the others dark pelt? Had they seen them together? He has no idea, but in that moment he was terrified for them both.

And for good reason.

Calypso laid there, vision blurring in and out as Mercury got ripped to shreds and deposited beside him. There, they both died.

Now…oh, now, Prince feels like he’s suffocating. He can’t breathe! There’s a heavy weight on top of him! But…he’s breathing — or trying to at least. He can feel his limbs, his body, he can think, but he can’t see. He feels his eyes open — wide, so wide, in the dark. It’s black around him — heavy.

It smells like dirt.

It’s then he realizes, when he moves his paws, he feels dirt.

He panics. Is he buried?! Is he underground?!

He starts struggling, moving digging. Which way is up? He can’t tell — he’s so scared, fucking terrified.

But he’s not in pain.

And a minute later of that same panic, his paw shoots through the ground and he sees thick, gloomy clouds littering the sky. He gasps for air, following his other paw as he bursts from the ground. With elbows propping him up and his lower half in the grave, he breathes quickly, unevenly. Harsh deep heaves and whimpers falls from his lips as he pulls himself from the ground, only to collapse and attempt to drag himself out the rest of the way.

His energy is sapped — he’s so tired. The phantom pain of his eye pulses.

Mercury.

The thought strikes him. The memory of his love getting ripped to shred before him.

A sob falls from his lips.

He’s all alone…but he’s alive.
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Evening mist filled the beast's lungs as he wandered the rolling hills of the hazy pasture seeking his next meal. Through the past year bones littered the ground both old and new covered in grass and moss, twinkling in the dim moonlight touched by dew.

Drawn by the sound of something scratching at the dirt, he followed the sound... muffling his footfalls with a slower pace as grasses whined as they were crushed by the hunting savage. It was strange, he could hear the dirt being moved around, feel it beneath his feet but there was no scent in the air to speak of to tell him what it could possibly be.

A pause...

Something large breached the earth a head, drawing the boogeyman in with both hunger burying into his belly and curiosity equally into his brain as he slithered forward.

It was the sobs that pushed him to action. The weakness shown by another that lures the hunter out of him, lunging forward with tooth and claw to sink into the newly birth creature spat out by the ground unfortunately nestled within his grounds.

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The male had been exploring a bit, getting a bit closer to the land of the Nightwalkers than he would have liked, but also not caring enough to make his way out of the land. So, he walked around, nose high in the air as he caught the scents of everything around him. It was only then that two scents caught his attention, one heavily set as Nightwalkers and the other a possible rogue. 

Curiosity got the better of him as he lowered his body to the ground, hiding himself within the bush. Moving closer, he was just in time to see the dark brute attack, his eyes tracking their movements. He wasn't one to stop or interrupt a fight that didn't involve him or his siblings, and so he sat and watched, curious to see if the leader would prove themselves. 

He knew very little of the brute and nothing of the other man, curious to see how each of them would prove themselves in his eyes. For the most part, he was curious to see if Vengeance was as ruthless and bloodthirsty as he had heard.

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The man bursts from the dirt, unaware of the beast, much like those who had killed him, towered above. A Hunter — a man with nothing but a meal in mind. A savage much like his beloved Mercury…but nothing close at the same time.

Muscled cramped and flexed as he tried to pull himself from the depths of, what appeared to be, hell. A cry falls from his throat — distracted by his somber memories tears well heterochromatic orbs.

And then it gets so much worse.

Startled by thumping — running — and then a weight presses against him. A weight that felt as if a boulder crashed into him. Pain follows quickly after and it’s then Prince realizes that it is teeth that gnaw and grip at him.

A high pitched squeak of pain is rushed from his lungs along with every ounce of breath he has. Much like when he got attacked just before his death, he’s forced to roll onto his back, soft underbelly exposed as he kicks out his limbs. And though Calypso isn’t skinny and frail by any means, he isn’t ripe with rippling muscle. Or at least any that can fight off such a man.

A man that when he sees makes his heart leap into his throat and another whimper fall from snarling lips. His means of defending himself are weak at best — especially against such a brute. But he does as best he can, kicking out and snapping teeth. Which surely would do nothing to the monster above him.

A monster that reminded him of Mercury, but only so much worse.
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Intoxicated by the fear that oozed from the newly birthed man, Vengeance was ignorant of the other who lurked nearby... One whose scent he would find later. For now, the panicked screams drew him in like flies to shit.

Rolling onto his back was perhaps the biggest mistake. Though the pretty male kicked and bit, it did little to deter his attacker who had just woken up this morning and chose violence, just as he did with every day before this, and would continue until his final breath was taken from him.

The whites of his feverish eyes flashed as he spotted the exposed belly, just limbs away from liver, intestines, pancreas, small intestine, large intestine... he wasn't certain if it was his belly that roared from him out of excitement - however as much as he wanted to find himself nose deep in this man's innards, it would end the fun all too soon.

Instead, he threatened to rip at the man's throat. Venomous fangs snapping in its direction with the intention to kill; all the while wrestling with the desire to stand on the gut of the newborn adult and let the Boss' weight do the talking for him. With every clap of his fangs, saliva spewed from blackened lips, bubbling with the desire to feed the most primal parts of him.

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He wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. Not that he minded though, enjoying watching the carnage that was happening. A grin gripped his features as he watched from the bushes, wanting to pull away the flesh of the other wolf, wanting to feel their blood on his fur. Was he a psychopath that probably needed help? Yes. Was he going to stop? Hell no. Where was the fun in that. 

So instead, he would lay there and watch, eyes focusing on the wolf that was getting hurt, wondering how far this would go. Would the man simply wound him and walk away or would he kill him here? If he chose the latter, would he eat the man or leave his corpse for scavengers? There were the questions that ran through the man's mind, no longer really caring much if he was caught or not as he moved to try and get a better advantage point. 

He knew that he should be worried that he may be next on the menu but at the same time, he had no real worries in general. After all, his sister just recently came back to life and he had full faith in the Wolf, so he had no issues with dying.

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He was going to die. Prince was sure of it. Just like he was sure he was going to die the first time. Flashes of Mercury’s teeth becoming a flurry of white movement before his eyes resurface. The deep black visage of the diamond chested male flickers onto the muddy brown of the strangers.

Are they the same? He wonders for a second.

No, no, they can’t be. Mercury died. But so did he, so…why is he here? Has he been forced to relive that moment for eternity? Maybe. Does he want to? No. God no he doesn’t, but here he is anyway.

Fighting for his life once more feels familiar because of this, but the problem is is that he has no such skill to really defend himself. Not only that, he lacks the strength. Even as his hind legs kick into the other underbelly and his forepaws press into the muscled chest of this monstrous beast…he stands no chance.

Especially when the man shoots for his throat.

Prince twists and turns, attempting to gnaw on the other man’s face, but the angle is awkward and he only gets close enough to scrape his teeth over his flesh instead. All the while he’s breathing a thousand breathes per second, grunting, and squeaking out his pain.

Pathetic.

Yeah, he’s pathetic.

What’s the point of even fighting? There is none. Just like there was no point in fighting back then.

So he doesn’t.

He stops completely. His paws stop pushing, merely rest on the muscles body before him. His head drops back, exposing his neck instead. His entire body goes slack. He doesn’t pass out, that would be clear by the way his eyes remained wide and terrified.

Accept your fate. He thinks because maybe this is what his fate has always been.
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His own flesh burst with ruby liquid as the other man defended himself. Teeth slashing across his face and muzzle, claws raking his tender undersides only spurring the demon on to lash out even further with the stinging sensation feeding his violence. The scars he gathered on his face during his time in this new world, the tattered ear and other miscellaneous wounds were his badges of proof that what did not kill him, only made him appear as the monster he was internally. Matching his putrid inner being by carving it onto his outershell.

Just like that the striped man stopped. Flopping in defeat which put an end to the fun brought on in screaming and fighting for one's life. Neck exposed, it was a tantalizing target to finish this pathetic waste of air here and now - but perhaps there was something more he could take from this man than a brief existence in this new world of his.

With a heavy paw he pressed into the man's neck as opposed to the swift mercy of fangs. “Welcome to Adelhelm.” He speaks the name he had given this world with a sick pleasure dancing on his tongue. “You are mine now.” Teeth clicked as he bit his words to a swift closure, the sound of rustling coming off to the near branches catching his attention. In a twisted way, he loomed over the man as though protecting fallen prey from scavengers.

A low menacing growl alerted the other who lurked that he knew they were there and unafraid to continue his rampage on a new body, darkened tail lashing from one side to the next in a sick excitement.

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He watched as the fight ended, though Mel couldn't help but be a little disappointed in how it ended. There was much less blood and gore than he was hoping for. However, he did notice that the brute snarled, signaling that he had been noticed, not that he minded. So, he walked out, speaking up as he did so. "Interesting display, though I think it would be better next time if his intestines were painting the trees." He was clearly not alright in the head as he sported a very malicious grin, acting as though the wounded man on the ground wasn't even there as he talked about his death. 

He noticed how the male was still worked up and shook his head, though made no move to back away or raise any defenses. "Calm yourself Nightwalker, no reason to turn fang elsewhere. I was simply here for the show but since it stopped early, I should be taking my leave." Though, he wouldn't walk away just let, letting the brute throw around whatever power he felt like.

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Blood from both the beast and himself coats a cream colored chest. Though Prince doesn’t know how much of it is his or the other’s it still terrifies him that he could be seconds away from bleeding out. Even then, he’s not quite sure what’s injured — he feels pain, but he’s so distracted my the fear and adrenaline that it isn’t registering as accurately.

But still, his attempt at accepting his fate seems to have been the right idea because that man’s onslaught of attacks slow and eventually stop. It makes him think; when his mother told him to play dead when attacked by a bear that it actually works. But this is no bear and he knows he is not dead.

And yet, he stops.

It has confusion blooming with terror — it swirls in his multicolored eyes as he stars up into the blood red ones of the larger wolf.

The devil himself. Not Mercury, but another devil just as distasteful.

But just when he thought he’d leave him be due to boredom, because he sure does look unfazed and bored by his bonelessness, he settles a heavy paw on his throat. Prince immediately chokes out a noise as he wraps a smaller paw around the wrist of the colossal sized man, leaving the other on the muddy wolf’s chest.

Welcome to Adelhelm. He growls before snapping his teeth. You are mine now.

The words make his blood run cold as he struggles to breathe with the massive paw settles on his throat. Only, a bit after it appears as if the savage beast above him hears something. Ruined ears perk and swivel as he looks around, but Prince doesn’t even try to follow his eyes. Even he moves to loom over his smaller form, he’s stuck with the view of a wiry, coarse pelt.

It’s only when he hears another voice does he chance a look over, struggling to see without being able to move his head. Through peripheral, another wolf is spotted and then he becomes that much more terrified.

He already has to deal with this brute, would the other be worse or better? He almost doesn’t want to know, even as that low voice speaks of Prince’s death right in front of him.

So worse it seems. Or maybe not. Perhaps he’s equally as bad.

It doesn’t matter to him, he’s dealing with a worse issue: breathing. His breaths wheezing and choking whenever he attempts one. It has him pushing on the other’s chest weakly and softly clawing at his forearm with the paw wrapped around it. Surely he wouldn’t care though.

And maybe neither should Prince.
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The pretty male had fallen and subdued - the fun and games were done for now and he would play with his new toy in due time. Someone decided to watch and even worse... he spoke derisively to the Warlord of the Nightwalkers. As though the "display" was for his pleasure and was disappointed with what he saw. There was more to this than just gore - someone who was this easily subdued could be used for something more later on. Where they feared, he could use to his advantage. Where else to be safer than in the den of the beast at their beck and call?

Calm yourself Nightwalker, those words sent him into a fury. Ignoring the man who had fallen to catch his breath while he focused on the damned soul who was now in the focus on his rage. From the pleasure of hunting and taking down a prey, gathering a new follower who could be of more use to him than some haughty brat, to an unbridled rage.

This time he lunged with fangs poised for the pale man's face. He would not stop with this one should he chose to defend himself. if he wanted to see the trees painted with innards, the Bogeyman would happily do so with his intestines. String them up along the borders like some sick streamers from branch to branch.

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He knew the moment he said those words that it caused the man to go into a fury, almost making the pale creature chuckle slightly, though he had much bigger issues to deal with. As the brute lunged, he would push himself backwards, backing away quickly. Sure, he usually didn't care for a fight, but he also wasn't in the business to get all bloodied for no reason, he was much smarter than that though the brute in front of him clearly wasn't. 

He still felt fangs catch the tip of his nose, making him huff slightly. He would make sure that he had his sister get together some annoying poison later. Perhaps this male could be her test subject. He was certain that would make the small girl happy. As he backed away though, he would turn to run, not caring how it looked. He cared about himself and, though he didn't seem scared, he certainly wasn't ready to die. No, it wasn't that he was scared of death, he had faith in the Wolf that he would be brought back, he simply didn't want the inconvenience of being a child again like his sister. 

Attempting to rush off, he would chuckle like a maniac, laughing as though he had heard the funniest joke around. His brother would love to hear about this. Politics might be interesting after all.

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It doesn’t seem like the beast of a man cared for him much now — to which he is thankful for. But rather when they both hear the other man’s words, it seems to send the mud furred beast into a frenzy. He can see the flash in big guy’s eyes — it’s terrifying. He stops pushing on him completely when he sees it, tucking his paws as close to himself as he can.

It’s when he’s moving off of Prince and lunging at the stranger does he finally get to take a good lungful of breath. Actually, he gasps in a few fair breaths now that he’s free.

But it seems he’s only free physically— for the moment at least. The suffocating weight of the scarred man’s eyes and aura is lifted off of him. Prince would roll onto his side then, propping himself up with a single elbow as he hacks his lungs out and shifts his eyes in the other’s direction.

The black and white wolf runs, cackling loud and carelessly. Very brave. Something Prince could never see himself doing. Not even now, even with the dark male’s back turned he doesn’t have the nuts to. He’s so pitiful that he doesn’t even try to get up, choosing to stay on the ground so when the red eyed devil comes back, he’d be able to submit easily.

And for a moment he wonders if he’ll chase after the other. Only then, would Prince feel confident enough to run free.
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He never cared for individuals like this one. Who ran like the coward he was, cackling all the way as though this would not be remembered and the next time - would be surely their last. Their "insanity" being only a loose cog that would spell their demise sooner rather than later when their final chuckle would be snuffed out.

He wouldn't chase the black and white man far, a few steps until he turned tail to flee into the darkness. Snapping at his heels with saliva spewing from his lips as he did so, until when the deranged man was out of sight.

Not wanting to ignore or lose his brand new toy, the beast turned. First his head as he peered over his shoulder, watching the golden boy as he turned to get himself comfortable - following by the tarry smooth movements of the Bogeyman approaching once more.

“Get up.” He barked with mild disgust curl of the lip as he looked down on the beaten lad. “Time to see your new home.”

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He had a sliver of hope that the beast would chase after the madman…but he didn’t. So Prince remains rooted in place, still just as scared for his life as he was seconds ago when the man towered over him.

Even the growling, slobbery snaps of teeth have Prince wincing. Not wanting to be at the tail end of those teeth ever again, but surely knows it’s inevitable.

Especially as he swings his head around. The movement and attention has his body locking up once more. As the other descends on his form again, Prince falls back over in a sign of submission. Though his throat isn’t bared this time. No, this time it’s tucked close.

Only then the other is gazing upon him with a look he is familiar with. It’s paired with biting words and the promise of a new home. The words make him shiver and obey. Forcing his limbs to move as he gets up and trails surprisingly close to the weathered male to wherever he may lead him.

Even if it’s to his death.
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