TRIGGER WARNING!
Non Consensual, Sexual Assault

Mariah simply never remembered her dreams. Of course, that wasn’t to say she didn’t have them. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Her dreams, as she knew them, were as vivid and intense as her waking life - they swirled with colors, emotions, and what seemed like a thousand different faces. But with the rise of the sun, they slipped from her grasp, fading into the ether like smoke in the wind.

But this dream... it was different.

As she stirred in her slumber, the rhythmic lull of the ocean in the distance, she found herself rooted in a vast void, wrapped in an inky darkness so profound it felt more like a tangible shell rather than mere absence of light. No features distinguished one part of the void from another; no sound echoed through its oppressive nature. Her heart pounded furiously, a dissonant symphony echoing in the hollow darkness. This was not her comforting den, brimming with her familiar marks and trinkets; this was a stark, cold reality that smothered her senses. An icy dread clung to her, freezing her thoughts and fogging her mind.

The deafening silence of the void was punctuated only by her own ragged breaths, each one echoing ominously in the eternal darkness enveloping her. She tried to reach out, hoping to find tangible proof of her existence, but as she tried to move her limbs, she discovered that they were lifeless- held frozen by an unbearable force. Struggling as she tried, she just simply couldn’t move beyond the weight of her own paralysis, rendering her body almost fatally still.

The realization of her helplessness swept over her like a swift, chilling wind, sending a jolt of panic through her veins. She tried to call out, to rupture the silence with her voice, but the void absorbed her attempts, swallowing the echoes of her fear. Every instinct within her screamed at her to run, to escape this abyss, but she was frozen in the pitch-black void, and entirely at its mercy.

"Mariah Mendacium"

The lifeless black void that had once been his eternal prison had now become as much a part of him as his own tail was. The abyss that held him captive was his home, and Moros had adapted to it to an almost frightening level. He enjoyed getting to invade the dreams of his bloodkin when they made themselves vulnerable to him, but there was just something special about them coming to visit dear grandpa Moros. Tonight another one of his descendants would pay him a visit. Like a fly getting caught in a web, she left ripples of energy in the liminal space she found herself a prisoner within, and now those vibrations were calling to the spider. For a long while, Moros did not shift or stir. He simply existed in the dark as a part of the aether, observing her as she tried to fight, to scream, to do anything while she just existed in the dark, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to sense. A wicked grin split Moros' lips. Welcome to my hell, young one.

A deep baritone chuckle echoed through the dark, seeming to come from all sides as it centered around the captured fae. Like the Devil himself had come for her and found her predicament quite amusing. Knowing she couldn't move to face him, Moros deliberately began to manifest behind her, a miasma of shadow forming together and out stepped giant ebony paws and long legs, followed by the rest of the rippling monster the crimson and red brute was. Abyssal black eyes roved over the trapped fae's form, drinking her in. She was such a petite thing—young, lithe, with curves in all the right places and so rail thin that he could see the outline of her through her fur. She wore the same colors as he did, though her fur was much more starkly defined and less graduated like his was. A pleased rumble vibrated deep within the brute's chest. Alastor certainly had a knack for making some beautiful faes, he had to give his son that.

Stepping up behind her with every heavy footfall sounding like a rumble of thunder echoing around the void, Moros came right upon the svelte fae, lowering his muzzle until he almost touched the small of her back, taking a long, savoring inhale of her scent. Delicious... Moros still reveled in being able to smell again. Soon enough, he would revel in touch and taste with her too. "How does it feel, little one, to be so hopelessly trapped in nothingness?" he spoke to her, his voice husky and low, rough around the edges with a purring lilt. He was teasing her, taunting her a bit. Here, she was his prisoner to do with as he pleased. If he wished it, she would never move until her corporeal body awoke. Maybe he'd do just that... "It's hell, isn't it? A living nightmare. Imagine living here for all time..."

Moros slowly sauntered along the length of the red and black fae's body, inspecting her from tip to tail, drinking in her feminine features. He didn't touch her quite yet, letting his eyes devour her slender form with a combination of fascination and predatory lust. How had she gotten so thin? Was Alastor starving his children? Maybe he had taught his son something after all... "What is your name, my lovely little visitor?" He wanted to know what name he'd be snarling in his hedonistic pleasures tonight.

"Moros"

When she tried to call out, no sound emerged from her throat, as if the abyss had devoured her voice itself. She was trapped in a nightmare, an infernal playground – the cold and lifeless dominion far more intense than she could have ever imagined. Unable to see, unable to hear, unable to touch, she was consumed by terror. She was trapped in sensory deprivation, alone and helpless. It was like being blindfolded, only this was worse. It was true darkness. True nothingness. True terror. Like a cold shroud, it envelop her. And all she could do was remain still as the mephitic presence of the void itself seemed to manifest. Her heart pounded like a frenzied drum against her ribs, each beat echoing painfully in the oppressive silence of the abyss around her. The grim chuckle of the monstrous apparition sent a freezing shiver down her spine, every instinct screaming at her to run, to flee from this malevolent entity. But she couldn't. Mariah was trapped in this oppressive void, ensnared by a force she couldn’t see, and couldn’t understand.

The crimson and black fae felt a presence looming behind her, a horrifying amalgamation of shadows that offered her nothing but despair. She could almost feel the cold chill of his gaze on the nape of her neck - a spectral touch that made her skin prickle with fear. His sadistic satisfaction buzzed palpably in the empty space between them- around her, feeding her fear. She burned to turn around, to face him. To face her fear. But it was impossible for her to do so.

Mariah's eyes widened in sheer terror at his words. The very thought sent her heart thundering even harder against her chest, a deafening rhythm in the eerie stillness. Her throat was dry, her lips parched. She wished to scream, to call for aid, but the futility of it all kept her mute and paralyzed. Her chest felt as though it were collapsing under an unseen weight, an iron cage clamping around her struggling heart. Her mere existence being toyed with. The imprint of his breath tingled on the surface of her skin, causing waves of goosebumps to ripple down her spine. His every word was a ghastly whisper, lacing her thoughts with icy dread. The malicious joy in his voice was obvious as he lapped up her fear, drawing strength from it. His words echoed in her mind- not something she just heard, but resonated from within her.

He asked her name, but she couldn’t answer. Not on her own tongue. Her name, her identity, seemed to have been stripped from her in this cruel void. But she would not let him take that from her. Not everything. Forcefully swallowing the lump in her throat, she steeled herself. Mariah. Her presence of mind was the only thing she could control, so she clung to it with all her might. But of course, that wasn't even her's alone.

"Mariah Mendacium"

"Mariah," the demon brute purred her name aloud the moment after the thought left the paralyzed fae's mind. Her panicked thoughts sang to him, pinging like a sonar in the void. She couldn't speak, but she could think, and in this realm, Moros held dominion over everything—including her. He could practically hear her heartbeat racing in her chest, could smell the fear emanating off of her like a rich perfume enticing the wraith in like blood in shark-infested waters. Oh, she would know now that even her thoughts were not hers, but a broadcast for him to tune into. Would that set her pulse racing even quicker? Would the primal instinct to run grow even stronger? Gods, he hoped so! She was so small, so dainty, so fragile and vulnerable... She would be the perfect prey in his kingdom of oblivion.

With another rumbling purr, the brute prowled along Mariah's side, circling around behind her to inspect her from all sides while never letting her get a glimpse at him—at least not yet. He enjoyed teasing her, tormenting her with his presence yet leaving her unable to see him. Hungry black eyes roved over the shape of her hips, down over her curvaceous rump and thighs, then followed the planes of her emaciated sides to her belly. Why was she so frail? It was a mystery he was dying to learn more about. "A very pretty name for a very pretty fae," he crooned, raising a paw to slowly trail his digits along her side, rolling over each exposed rib. She felt so soft and warm despite her frailty, and already Moros was imagining how good it would feel to be wrapped up inside her. Oh, he was going to find out for sure... "Tell me, sweet Mariah... was it your mother, or your father Alastor that gave you that name?"

Moros wanted to see the look on Mariah's face when he name-dropped her sire, so the hulking crimson brute at long last made his way around to her front, allowing her to finally get her first look upon the dream-dwelling demon she found herself enthralled by. Obsidian black eyes pierced down into her silvery pools, a grin not too dissimilar from Alastor's splitting his maw from ear to ear—but where Alastor's smile was humorous or loving, Moros' was cold and calculating. A Cheshire Cat grin of a hunter salivating over his prey. Moros was practically giddy to see the young fae's reactions. Would she see the generational similarities between them? Or would she miss the subtle clues in her terror? "Oh, and what a treasure you are...! Now, what should I do with such a lovely little fae, hmm? Maybe I'll keep you here with me. It can be quite lonely here, and I could use your companionship. I could use it again, and again, and again..." Moros chuckled again as he raised a paw to softly caress Mariah's cheek, letting her short fur slip between his digits while he savored the sensation of touching her body, actually feeling things again for the first time in years.

"Moros"

The darkness pressed in closer, as though it had a physical form, a tangible weight. Mariah's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, a stark contrast to the beast's steady, languid rhythm. She could feel the cold tendrils of his mind slithering into hers, probing her deepest thoughts and fears. The dark landscape around them seemed to respond in kind, shrinking tighter around her, squeezing the life out of her, making her heart pound in her chest like a trapped animal. She felt as if she were drowning, The entity’s presence seemed to loom larger, every inch the predatory beast he was, his voice booming and resonating within the confines of her mind. Each syllable was a punch to the gut, twisting and turning inside her like a knife.

Fear pulsed in her veins, a cold, chilling undercurrent that was rapidly becoming a tumultuous whirlpool. Mariah longed to recoil- to shrink back from his touch as his paw made contact. Yet she was forced to remain still, at the mercy of his whims. The paradox of his gentle touch and the threat of violence that lurked within the shadowy aura surrounding him created a sickening knot in the pit of her stomach. She felt the heat and firmness of his paw tracing over her ribs, leaving a trail of prickling awareness in its wake. Each word he spoke echoed ominously throughout her mind leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. His tone was eerily sweet, dripping with an almost sickening fondness that made her skin crawl. Was it your mother, or your father Alastor that gave you that name? I-I don’t know.

Her silver gaze locked onto the obsidian-black eyes of Moros as he moved around to face her – a predator revealing his full glory to his cornered prey. The sight of him was heart-stopping. Massive, muscular, and exuding an oppressive aura of power, he loomed over her. His wicked grin, so similar to her father's yet so chillingly different, sat beneath those piercing eyes that seemed to look straight past her skin and into her very soul. Each breath she drew was a struggle, as if the air had turned stagnant in his presence.

The resemblance between this being and her father was undeniable- but perhaps she wouldn’t have recognized it had he not just spoke her father’s name. But the way each syllable rolled off the demon’s tongue sent shivers coursing down her spine. The connection was almost uncanny. Yet, she couldn't deny the surge of dread that gripped her heart as the implications of this revelation began to sink in. Was it her imagination? What did it mean? Who are you?

The sinister words slithered out of his mouth, wrapping around her heart like a silken noose. His paw gently brushed down her cheek, the touch so disturbingly intimate that she felt as though she were being violated, the soft fur under his touch bristling in revulsion. She continued to struggle, to try and pull back instinctively- to run. Her breath hitched in her throat as he chuckled lowly, clearly amused by her repulsion. She wanted to respond, to lash out at him, to defy his cruel intention. But her strength was waning, her limbs trembling under the weight of her fear. There was a flicker of defiance in her eyes, but it was quickly smothered beneath the wave of helplessness that washed over her. Get away from me! The words echoed through her head, a silent scream that filled every crevice of her thoughts, but her lips remained sealed shut, unable to give it voice. A cold chill spreading through her body as he continued to touch her.

"Mariah Mendacium"

Even in her paralytic state, Mariah exuded an aura of defiance amongst the fear. She was trying to rebel, to resist, but she had no leg to stand on, literally and figuratively. Her breathing, ragged with terror and panic, ignited a smoldering fire inside the giant brute's belly, a primal lust rising in his core at the sight of such a nubile young fae trapped so helplessly before him. The fact that she was of his blood did nothing to dissuade his lecherous intent; hell, it intensified it in some ways. His bloodline was pure, strong, indomitable. Mariah was another link in his chain, and that made him desire her all the more for it. She, however, was a conundrum. He had meticulously bred his children to be perfect specimens of wolf. Alastor had been his magnum opus. So how did he spawn a feeble creature like Mariah? Had Alastor chosen to breed a flawed bitch to sire his children with? Surely his son had better taste than that. Mariah was becoming a puzzle he was eager to solve. But for now, he would enjoy taking his time to play with her. To get to know her inside and out. After all, she'd be back to see him again soon enough.

Moros stared deep into Mariah's eyes, searching for that moment of recognition when she figured out who he was. A couple of times she came close, but realization never dawned in her gaze. How disappointing. As his domination over her continued and his wicked essence infiltrated her mind, slithering through her psyche like tendrils to hear her thoughts, Moros continued to smile at her, adoring the delight her dread brought to him. She asked who he was and Moros didn't respond right away, instead tracing his claws gingerly along her jaw, teasing the soft skin just beneath her chin. "If you want to know my name, it is Moros," he replied in his smooth baritone lyrics. "If you mean who am I to you? Well... where's the fun in just telling you?" Moros chuckled his sinister laugh once more and slowly leaned in closer, almost pressing his nose to Mariah's while he stared into her wide eyes. "For now, you can consider me the brute who's going to make you scream his name into this void."

There was no misconstruing what Moros meant with his implications. Mariah was his until she woke up, and until she did, he planned on making the most of his time with her. The massive brute gave a delighted hum and pulled back from Mariah again, moving around to her side once more. He slid the length of his body down hers, letting her feel the ripple of powerful muscles moving against her side and how their fur mingled together when their coats brushed. He was enjoying teasing her with the promise of what was to come. Mariah mentally screamed for him to get away from her, but Moros paid her no heed. She was his prisoner, and now he was going to play with his newest toy. "Hmm, no I don't think I will." Moros sneered with wicked delight as he came around to Mariah's rump, lifting her tail up out of the way with a lazy flip of his paw, exposing all of Mariah's most intimate parts to him. She truly was a beautiful fae, and gazing upon her now in her most vulnerable and revealing position, she looked like a work of art to the demon.

The sadistic brute wasted no time getting to work, his paws resting on Mariah's hips and rubbing slow circles over her hips and thighs. Moros hummed with delight, the ache between his legs almost impossible to ignore as arousal burned hotter within him, the smoldering coals stoked by the tactile sensation of her fur, her flesh, the scent of her so close... Moros brought his muzzle down to meet her intimate flesh, tongue rolling across her with a lustful growl. That first taste of Mariah sent a shockwave rippling through his body, the ache of arousal growing more intense with each lick, flick, lap, and roll of his tongue. She tasted divine...! So good he could devour her for hours! Moros continued his assault of his descendent, relishing in her emotions and her body as he took her for himself. He took advantage of her paralysis, murring happily to himself while he defiled her with his tongue, delving into her depths with practiced motions, both a celebration of getting to indulge himself in the pleasures of a fae again and preparation for what he was going to do to her.

Breathing hard, Moros grinned to himself and gave Mariah's hips a firm squeeze. "Still want me to get away from you?" he taunted her with his seductive purred words, taking a playful nip at the back of her thigh. "How about you try to get away from me instead?" Like flipping a switch, Moros released Mariah from her paralysis, the dainty fae's body once more under her control. He could have had his way with her the way she was, but Moros was a predator. He wanted her to try to run from him so he could chase her down and ravage her squirming form beneath his. Rising to his paws with a shake out of his coat, Moros grinned at Mariah and gestured for her to go. "Start running Mariah, because when I catch you, I'm going to make you scream." The game was on.

"Moros"

Her body shook violently, but whether from fear or anger was something even she didn't know. Those piercing obsidian eyes of Moros seemed to burrow into her soul, laying everything bare. Her heart pounded in her chest, with every beat echoing the horrific truth that Moros had laid out before her. She was his plaything, a mere pawn in his twisted game. His words churned in her mind, a rough tide of fear and revulsion. She never stopped trying to struggle. Her silver eyes were bright and wild with desperation. She could feel him moving closer to her, his oppressive aura closing in on her like a dark shroud. His proximity seemed to choke the very air from her lungs, his infernal grin, splitting his face from ear to ear, sent daggers of panic ricocheting throughout her body. The sickening dread in Mariah's stomach pooled as she felt the distinct sensation of Moros's coat against hers. Every inch of her body screamed in protest, a deafening internal chorus that was drowned out by Moros's malevolent laughter.

Mariah's heart pounded relentlessly in her chest, her entire body trembling with terror. Fear swept over her like a merciless tidal wave, consuming every thought, every sensation. She squirmed beneath Moros's touch, her desperation escalating to a fever pitch as she felt his paw lifting her tail. The glint in his obsidian eyes was a terrifying reflection of her own vulnerability, a mirror to the abject terror etched across her face. She could almost feel his predatory gaze wandering over her exposed form, leaving a trail of chill that prickled her skin beneath her fur. Her throat felt dry, a lump of anxiety choking her words even as she tried to muster the strength to resist.

The agony of the moment was made worse by the silence that hung heavy in the air, broken only by Moros's cruel chuckles and euphoric moans. Each touch sent a shudder of dread rippling through Mariah's slender frame, her muscles straining against their invisible bonds. She was nothing more than a plaything in this demon's paw, an unwilling participant in his twisted game. Every sweep of his tongue was another violation, a transgression deeper into her private sanctuary. As the repulsive stench of his arousal filled her nostrils, she fought the bile rising in her throat, nausea intertwining with the raw terror that gripped her. Mariah’s mental cries of anguish were of no consequence. His satisfaction was clear in each taste he took, each lingering stroke against her vulnerable flesh. Her mind threatened to shatter under the weight of her own revulsion, terror, and betrayal of her body. Each lap of his tongue that invaded her; his every touch was an unspeakable desecration. The world around her seemed to blur and contort until all that remained was the sensation of his touch, the sick sweetness of his breath, the violent rhythm of panic. Her senses were overwhelmed, heightened to a painful degree. Every nerve ending screamed in agony, every breath was a struggle. She could feel the walls of her sanity beginning to crack, teetering on the edge of the abyss. Desperation washed over her like a tidal wave, the sickening realization that she was completely at Moros's mercy.

The words were like a hot iron brand against her consciousness, searing her with their cruel mockery. Her limbs trembled underneath his touch, the wordless scream inside her of defiance and repulsion unheard. Start running Mariah, because when I catch you I’m going to make you scream.

But just as the words rolled off his tongue, she immediately collapsed forward. A jolt of realization surged through Mariah. The paralysis lifted like a dense fog, leaving her limbs feeling unsteady and fragile. Despite the terror still thrumming through her veins, a spark of determination flickered within. She scrambled to her feet, every instinct urging her to flee, to run as fast and as far as she could from the monstrous figure looming over her. With a swift movement, Mariah pushed off with all her might, hauling herself up, and taking off with her tail tucked between her legs. But her limbs felt heavy, uncoordinated in the sudden rush of freedom. It was as if she was running through water, each step a great effort. Despite the struggle, her gaze remained steady- though her body trembled. Her attention was fixed on the nothingness ahead of her- to put as much distance between herself and the demon as she could. She dashed frantically through the echoing void, her heart pounding in her chest. Her breath heaved in ragged pants, each gasp filled with the acrid taste of fear. Yet as she ran, she couldn't shake off the crushing weight of despair that clung to her, the terrifying realization that no matter how hard or how long she ran, it seemed like she hadn’t gone anywhere. The distance never seemed to grow.

"Mariah Mendacium"

The demon reveled in every response and reaction he was able to pull from his hapless victim. Her panic, her terror, her disgust and ager—it was all so delicious! Moros fed on her emotions and responses to his invasion of her sanctity like he were famished; a ravenous beast pillaging and defiling her to sustain himself. It was his right to do so as a brute; she was weaker than him, easily controlled and bent to his will. Faes existed for the sole purpose of satisfying their brutes' urges and for producing pups. Tonight, he was going to show Mariah where her place was in the world and what her purpose was, seeing as his son had obviously failed to teach her properly.

The pounding of Mariah's heart was a drumbeat for Moros to keep pace with, his tongue rolling and lapping over delicate flesh in time with her racing pulse. Her mental cries and screams sang out to him, a beautiful and primal symphony that urged him to continue his desecration of her body. And continue he would! He could feel Mariah's fragile psyche buckling under the dominance of his will. How long would it take to break her completely? Moros was tempted to find out... And he would in his own time. They had nothing but time here, and until Mariah woke up, she would be his prisoner to do with as he pleased. If he ever saw Alastor again, he'd have to be sure to thank his son for making such a wonderful little toy for him to play with.

The moment he freed Mariah from her metaphysical prison, the small crimson and ebony fae began to scramble and sprint away from him. Moros' dark eyes lit up with amusement, a deep and resounding laugh booming through the void that followed after her as she sprinted away into the endless darkness. "Run, run, Mariah! The big bad wolf is coming for you!" he shouted after her, the widest of sinister grins splitting his maw from ear to ear. Moros kept his predatory gaze on the fleeing form of the girl, watching as she got farther and farther away, but with nowhere to run to, she wouldn't be getting far.

In true nightmarish fashion, once Mariah had gotten a decent distance from him, Moros began to take off after her, his movements uninhibited by the darkness of the void as he chased her down like he were pursuing wounded prey. His footfalls echoed around the void, the abyss quivering under his stride as he commanded his realm. For all her effort, Mariah didn't get far. Moros got up to a steady loping run before snarling and lunging forward, diving into the dark like it were water and disappearing beneath the rippling surface. He vanished entirely, no hint of his presence anywhere at all.

In actuality, he was navigating the shadows like he were a part of them, gliding with such speed up to his fleeing granddaughter before pulling ahead to leap out in front of her, sharp fangs bared and manic black eyes gleaming with feral lust. "Boo!" Without giving her a chance to try and stop herself or change direction, Moros pounced at Mariah, aiming to throw his massive muscular body into hers to tackle her to the ground and begin wrestling her into submission. He wanted her to fight. He wanted her to squirm and struggle and scream. He wanted her to resist him, so it would be all the more fun to break her in.

"Moros"

As she plunged into the seemingly infinite darkness, fear clawed at her insides, gnawing at her with a relentless ferocity that made her want to throw up. She could feel Moros's amusement slithering through the darkness after her like an insidious fog, curling around her ankles and brushing against her fur with a chilling caress. Each booming laugh that echoed from behind sent shockwaves of terror through her frame, feeding her adrenaline and spurring her to run faster. But as hard as she pushed herself, it made very little difference. The black abyss around her was just as oppressive as the malevolent brute himself, yet mirrored the emptiness she felt within. Each slow galloping stride seemed to get her nowhere, distance and time losing all sense in this nightmarish realm. Her lungs ached for air and her muscles screamed in protest, yet she forced herself to continue, the horrifying laughter of Moros ringing relentlessly in her ears.

Just as Maria thought she had a semblance of distance between them, her heart sank as she heard his voice echo across the void, joined with the terrifying sound of his footfalls growing louder. The hair bristled on her nape and instinct screamed hurry. But her already gaunt frame was already pushed to its limits, and she could feel her fatigue beginning to take its toll on her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, the obsidian void slipping past her at a dizzying pace as she pushed herself to keep running. Keep running. Don’t stop running.

The terror that clung to her was a tangible thing; it tasted like blood and bile on her tongue. The scent of Moros, a sickly-sweet amalgamation of decay and dread, invaded her senses, and then suddenly, he appeared before her. His towering figure materialized from the darkness, his obsidian eyes gleaming with a predatory anticipation that sent an icy shiver down her spine. The demon’s unexpected manifestation sent Mariah skidding to a halt as she tried to scream- but of course, couldn’t. As Moros hurled himself toward her, Mariah's instincts screamed at her to dodge, to fight back, but the tendrils of fear had wrapped around her limbs like icy chains. And she was already exhausted trying to escape him. With a gasp that echoed in the silent abyss, she was sent sprawling on the cold, unforgiving ground that she could touch but couldn’t see. Her silver eyes flashed with defiance as fierce as it was desperate as she spent her last bit of energy writhing beneath him.

"Mariah Mendacium"

She had tried to get away from him. Oh, how she had tried her hardest. But in the end, Mariah was unable to overcome the unstoppable force that was Moros when inside his own realm of damnation. The way the little fae skidded in an attempt to desperately get away from him almost pulled a peel of laughter from the demented wolf. Then he was upon her, and it was all over from there. She didn't manage to slip away, and she barely put up any sort of fight as they tumbled over one another across the invisible ground of darkness, the infinite void that felt oppressive and suffocating to her feeling like an extension of himself to the demon. Her gasp echoed around the abyss as he knocked the wind from her and Moros shuddered with aroused delight at the sound. What other noises could he coax from the svelte little fae he wondered? It was only once he had her securely beneath his weight and bulk did she begin to try to fight, and by then it was far too late. Mariah was trapped in his web and she was going to be devoured.

Grinning a gleeful, manic smile as he leered down at her, Moros savored the feeling of Mariah's squirming and writhing form beneath his own. Her eyes gleamed with a defiant fire in those argent pools, but that was the worst of her bark. There was no bite left in this wolf as her body began to tire, her energy sapped from seemingly nowhere. Hmm, now that was interesting... Moros found himself curious about his granddaughter's condition, but there would be plenty of time to explore all of that later. Right now, the little minx had turned him on and aroused the predatory instincts within him and he was going to slake his lusts whether she complied or not. If she didn't, then all the more fun for him! Holding her body down to the invisible ground, Moros slammed a giant paw down onto Mariah's chest, not caring if he hurt her as he attempted to retrain her, keeping her in place so he could better position himself atop of her. She was significantly smaller than him, but that had never stopped the brute before! Shifting his hips so he could press his excitement to her lower belly, Moros uttered a low lecherous growl, obsidian eyes ablaze with barely contained animalistic lust. That's right... squirm and scream...!

"Come on, Mariah. Fight me!" snarled the crimson and ebony demon down at the girl that mirrored his colors, his claws pressing deeper into the flesh on her chest. His other paw moved to grasp her hind leg by the thigh, claws digging into warm, tender flesh as he pried them apart to press his arousal harder against her with a roll of his hips. He was teasing her, tormenting her, threatening her with the promise of what he was about to do to her. "Show me the strength of your blood and fight me off!" He wanted to see just how weak Alastor had made his bloodline if someone like Mariah could be bested and claimed so easily. Moros snarled, lips peeling back from his sinister grin as he gave another slow grind of his hips, letting her feel how dangerously close to claiming her he was. If she wanted this to stop, she was going to have to fight him off. And if she couldn't... well, Moros was dying to know how she'd feel around him.

"Moros"

Suddenly pinned beneath Moros’ relentless hold, panic surged within Mariah as she his paw slammed to her chest, the force of it threatening to crush her into place. She writhed desperately beneath him, trying to free herself from his monstrous grip while snapping at the limb that held her against the ground. The pain of his claws digging into her tender flesh was excruciating, and she could barely draw breath, her petite frame writhing against the relentless force of him. The menacing growl that rumbled through him, vibrating against her frail body, sent a shiver of dread coursing through her veins. Moros was terrifyingly larger than her, powerful and gruesome in his unrestrained desire. A whimper escaped her throat as his paw shifted downward, cruelty glinting in the demon’s eyes as he held her there. Mariah struggled against the invisible ground, hoping to find some purchase, some leverage that might let her twist away from him.  As he tightened his grip on her thigh, his claws piercing her delicate skin, she let out a gasp of pain. His arousal against her lower belly made her stomach churn with revulsion. The taste of fear was bitter on her tongue as she opened her mouth, desperate to fill her lungs with air. To scream. But of course, the sound never came.  Stop!

Despair washed over Mariah as his sinister words echoed in her ears. He wanted her to fight, to prove herself, but she barely had the strength to breathe. The horror of her situation was paralyzing, smothering any remaining spark of defiance beneath a suffocating blanket of terror. She could feel Moros gloating in her weakness, the power he held over her an intoxicating thrill. His laughter was a cacophony in her ears, a harsh reminder of his victory. With each growling word, each sadistic grin, he was taking something from her: dignity, strength, hope. A helpless fury burned within her, a seething ember stoked by every vile touch and word. Yet, that fury was buried beneath Moros' oppressive presence, further dampened by her own frailty. How weak she was, and she hated herself for it.

It truthfully didn’t take much effort- the weight of his body pressing against her own frail form was a stark reminder of the grimness of her predicament. The putrid scent of his tainted breath fanned over her face, mingled with the acrid tang of her own fear-sweat. As he threatened her by grinding his masculinity more insistently, his touch was like a branding iron, searing her sanity with every passing moment. Silent tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. She wanted to push back against him- to fight as he demanded, but her voice seemed lost, and her limbs felt weak and unresponsive. A shiver of abhorrence passed through her as she felt his arousal, a grotesque and unwanted intimacy that made her skin crawl. His cold, predatory eyes were filled with a perverse delight, feeding off her terror like a leech drawing blood, and she at his mercy.

"Mariah Mendacium"

It had been a simple command—a basic instruction even the most insignificant of creatures in this world could understand. Fight back. Moros wanted Mariah to fight back against him, to resist him, to claw and bite and snarl and show the strength of his blood in her veins, to give him something to see himself in her. But Mariah did nothing. She tried to snap at his powerful trunk of a foreleg a couple of times, but then she just collapsed, weak and exhausted. She was so frail, so pitiful, so outright pathetic. Whoever Alastor had conceived her with had diluted the strength in his blood to embarrassingly weak levels. If Mariah had been one of Moros' children, he would have culled her immediately upon birth. It would have been a mercy for something so wretched and destitute as her.

Meeting her hateful gaze with his own searing black eyes, the brute scoffed and sneered, baring dangerous fangs to her. The paw on her chest swiftly slid up to crush down on her throat, choking her with a press of his weight on her trachea. Not enough to kill her outright, but enough to stop her breathing entirely. "What a pathetic waste of life you are. Barely a wolf, not a drop of spirit in your body, not fit to survive in this world. If it wasn't for your sire and mother, you would have died days after you escaped whatever miserable womb you crawled out of." Snarling down at her, Moros brought his muzzle down so he might eclipse all of her vision, wanting her to see nothing but him before their finale. "Remember this lesson, Mariah: you are nothing more than a toy for the strong to use, enjoy, and throw away when you're spent."

With another snarl, Moros released Mariah's throat and then grasped her hips in his vise-like grip, wasting no time in flipping her thin body over so he could press her belly down into the darkness. He gave her no time to react, keeping her hips held aloft with one paw while the other moved to press against the back of her skull and hold her down beneath him, pressing her tear-streaked face into the invisible ground. Moros leaned his muzzle closer to Mariah's ear, whispering in his husky saccharine voice against the delicate appendage, "This is the only value you will ever have to anyone, Mariah." Moros bucked his hips in a slow roll, pressing the heat of his arousal against the little fae’s intimate flesh. "Time for you to learn your place." His paw flexed over her head, threatening to crush her skull underneath his massive paw while he held her still and brought his hips to hers. Then with a rough thrust, he joined their bodies forcefully together. Moros grit his teeth and snarled as he invaded her most sacred parts and felt her body engulf him against her will, each inch that violated her claiming her as his—his prey, his toy, his. In this abyssal realm, that's all she was now: his.

"Moros"

The echo of each of his words resonated within her mind- there was no escaping his voice. It rattled her to her core, as he spewed venom, extracting pleasure from her pain with the cold precision of a skilled surgeon. His breath, hot and fetid, washed over her face like a foul wind, and the raw power radiating from his immense frame made her body tremble as he held her to the ground by her throat. She could feel the blackness creeping in from the edges of her vision as her blood pounded in her ears, a desperate chorus of panic and fear. And of course, it was as if he gutted her for her insecurities and laid them all out before her. Pathetic waste of life. Barely a wolf. Not fit to survive. Your sire and mother. Where were the ancients now?  Chained by her weakness, Mariah was forced to stare into the abyss of his eyes, a dark maw that swallowed her whole. The sickening sweetness of his triumph filled the air, suffocating her further in this cruel display of power and dominance.

A numbing chill coursed through her as Moros positioned himself above her- pinning her to the invisible ground, and erasing any thought of resistance. Her silver eyes wide with terror, she cried out silently in pain and fear as he braced himself on the back of her head. Mariah twisted her neck against his oppressive force, catching a glimpse of her distorted reflection in the obsidian of his eyes. The image she saw was a cruel mockery of herself, reduced to an object of torment. His nefarious grin stretched across his face, a nightmarish rendition of a serpent aglow with victorious amusement. Mariah had never felt so exposed, so violated. Her body was on display, her spirit laid bare for his viewing pleasure. Her legs trembled beneath his weight as the cold seeped through her fur and bit into her skin. Terrified of what was to come, she dared to lift her gaze one last time towards Moros. His eyes, dark as night and filled with feral delight, bore down on her like cruel judgement.

Mariah shut her eyes tightly, tears seeping from the corners and running down her cheeks as she braced herself. His words echoed in her mind, each syllable a lash against her spirit. The horrific reality of her situation seemed to close in around her, encompassing her being in a wave of utter helplessness. Mariah's breath hitched, her body frozen in shock and agony as she was forced to accommodate this hellish entity. She felt as if she were crumbling, her soul shattering into a thousand shards of pain and despair. The icy chill of darkness seeped into her bones as Moros began his sadistic violation. Her terrified whimper was smothered by his suffocating form, her small frame trembling beneath his weight. The world outside her agony seemed distant, muffled as if submerged under frigid waters, and she drowning with searing pain that blossomed with the flex of his nails into her skull, and the assault on her most sacred self. Every push was a sickening invasion, and there nothing she could do to save herself. This is the only value you will ever have. Learn your place.

"Mariah Mendacium"

With every thrust and every grunt, Moros relished the defilement of the pathetic little bitch underneath him. This was what brought the demented brute true joy! The sex was good, of course, reveling in delicious sensations he'd been deprived of for so, so long, but the real fun was the power he exerted over her; the control he wrested from her and left her powerless and under his subjugation. Knowing that he held her very life in his paws and she was too weak to prevent him from doing anything. It was the same control he had exerted over Rhea and his own daughters once upon a time. Now he would use it to break his sniveling little coward of a descendent and show her where faes like her belonged in the food chain. Nothing more than warm bodies to incubate a brute's pups and to satiate themselves with. Alastor should really be thanking him for the service he was doing reeducating her.

Every silent and mental cry of anguish that he was able to pull from her sent a ripple of vile satisfaction down the massive brute's spine, electrifying his every nerve in delightful ways. It made ravaging her all the more enjoyable to hear her cry out for him in such a manner. Mariah tried to twist her head around and he permitted her to look up at him, letting her meet his frenzied ebony gaze as it bore down on her, drinking in her pained responses like grotesque theatre. He was panting hard, practically salivating with lecherous glee, exerting all his strength with every piston of his hips into hers, driving her back and forth on the darkness. The paw on her hips dug his sharp claws into her tender flesh. He knew she could bleed here; he had done it before with the other fire-marked fae. He would mark her up as his before their time was done here.

Besides the sniveling cries of the fae he was violating, Mariah didn't make a sound or speak a word to him. Well, that was no fun! Moros snarled and flexed his paw over the back of Mariah's skull, crushing her face to the invisible ground and pressing his weight forward onto the back of her head, letting her feel the pressure of him bearing down on her. He could crush her skull like an egg beneath his paw if he desired it. She only lived by his good graces and he wanted to make sure she knew it. "That's it, Mariah, scream all you like! Nobody is coming to save you! You're mine in here!" he jeered between snarls, a manic laugh bubbling up in his chest amidst the heavy breathing that washed over the back of her neck. His hips moved with more frenetic urgency, slamming into her body with reckless abandon as if he would never have the chance to fuck her again. Back paws scrabbled and clawed at the darkness for leverage, his larger, more powerful body pulling hers taut into his to surround her—to engulf her.

Dark hellfire burned in his abyssal eyes, waiting for the moment she burst as much as he was craving his own release. He wanted to see her fully come undone, to hear her scream for help that would never come. He wanted to hear her break before he would give her the relief she so desired. Moros dug his claws into the thin skin of Mariah's scalp, feeling the wetness of fresh blood around his nails. The paw on her hips moved to press his claws into her side, dragging those sharp razors down through her soft flesh back to her hip, leaving a trail of bleeding cuts along her svelte side. Claiming her like a brute was meant to claim a fae. She would be his now, any time she fell asleep she would be right back with him again. He pressed through the tightness of her body, uncaring if he damaged her in his ruthless assault. He would have done anything to hear more of her screams. Blazing eyes commanded her to let go. Scream! Give up and scream!

"Moros"

With each passing moment, Mariah felt herself slipping further away, retreating into the deepest recesses of her mind as she sought to dissociate herself from the atrocity being committed against her. An icy numbness began to creep over her, a merciful reprieve from the searing pain that had moments before been all she could comprehend. Lacerations from his punishing grip stung with the sweat and heat, while her insides seared with every brutal invasion of Moros’ grotesque form. Images of her cozy den filled her mind: the warm golden firelight, the earthy aroma of potted herbs, and the comforting familiarity of her sanctuary. With Caedes. The vividness of the memories seemed to cast a momentary shield over her battered spirit, her mind clinging desperately to the safe haven that felt galaxies away. She could almost feel the soft fur of Caedes beside her, their bodies curled together in the den's comforting warmth. The soothing rhythm of his breath, steady and assured- she could almost hear it.

The piercing pain from Moros's claws were a brutal reminder, dragging her back into the present. Her trembling limbs pushed against the cold ground in a futile effort to pull away from him, but it only served to amuse him more.

His deep, cruel laughter echoed around them, the sound reverberating around her. Inside of her. It was more than she could bear. A whimper escaped her as she turned her gaze away from his gleeful face, away from the predatory gleam in his eyes. She closed her own silver orbs, refusing to let him see any more of her fear; it was a small act of defiance but it was all she had left in this moment of wretchedness. He was strong, but she had her own strength too - even if it was dwindling away with every violation of her being. It’s only pain. It’s only pain. Repeating the mantra to herself in an effort to distance herself from the brutal reality. It’s only pain.

She retreated further into herself, her mind recoiling from the raw pain and humiliation. Her body was a battlefield, her spirit the casualty of his vile satisfaction. His words, viscously cruel and piercing, echoed in her ears. Nobody is coming to save you. He had sneered with sadistic delight. Each word, each mockery, was like a dagger plunged into the heart of her pride. Her spirit whimpered and trembled within its sickly, violated husk, reeling from the torment. She hated it. Hated him. His relentless assault that was ripping her apart, piece by piece. Each driving thrust, chipping away at her dignity and resilience. She longed to collapse to the ground, her legs gave way from beneath her long ago but of course, he kept her hips propped where he wanted them- blood dripping down her inner thigh from his hold. Both of their weights supported with the crushing force at the back of her skull. Yet, it was his sickening euphoria that revolted her the most - the twisted pleasure he derived from her suffering. The laughter, the gleeful savagery. She hated him.

Something snapped inside Mariah, some tether to reality that had been holding her together in the midst of the brutality. Scream! Give up and scream! No longer could she bear the scalding touch of his claws against her raw skin, nor the agonizing stretch of her body under his monstrous weight. He wanted her to cry out- and of course, she had, but she would not grant him the satisfaction he so desperately craved - the satisfaction of her surrender, the satisfaction of her screams. So, she willed herself to silence. That was her strength. It was all the strength she had left.

"Mariah Mendacium"

Moros was practically inebriated on the pained reactions he was able to pull from Mariah's soul as he tormented her relentlessly. But as much fun as he was having destroying her, the demon brute began to see she was trying to retreat from him. She was crumbling in on herself, refusing to look him in the eye, dissociating from the assault and just struggling through it. He had successfully subdued her body, but her tenacious spirit remained defiant. She refused to scream for him, denied him that which he desired from her. How dare she! The little bitch thought she was tough now, did she? Well, Moros would show her the folly of her defiance. Although he was pleased to see the strength of his blood manifesting in her spirit, it only incited more aggression from the giant brute atop her back. He would break her one way or another...

Accepting her silence, Moros snarled as he slammed himself as deep within Mariah as he could physically go, caring little for any pain he inflicted upon her in the pursuit of his dominance and his ecstasy. In fact, her pain just deepened his pleasure. It was what she deserved as a fae. This was her place in the world. As he approached his finish, Moros' hips rolled and pummeled hers with such force that if her legs hadn't already given out, he surely would have thrown her off her paws. Grunting and panting, Moros bared his fangs and grit his teeth, feeling that coiled spring within him tighten to the point of exploding. His claws scrabbled on the dark ground, tore and rent into Mariah's thighs and hips. Then with one final hard push, he collided their hips and locked them together by their anatomy, throwing his head back with a feral snarl as he hit his climax. Moros saw stars as he exploded within Mariah, howling his demented pleasure into the abyss, letting the song of his ecstasy ring out around them as he came undone.

Though he had finished, he was not done with Mariah just yet. She hung from him, well used and fucked raw. Bred like a proper bitch and put in her place. Maybe now she'd learn what her purpose was in life. Just in case, he would make sure he drove the point home. Leaning his body down over Mariah's, Moros gave a slow, lewd lick across the back of one of her crimson ears, letting his hot panting breath wash over the back of her neck. "This is your place, Mariah... Pinned beneath a brute, accepting the pups he fills your belly with, continuing his bloodline litter after litter until you're all used up... It's all a weak, scrawny bitch like you is good for." Of course, Moros could not plant children within Mariah—what with being dead and all—but that didn't mean some other brute couldn't. He'd just get her good and broken in for the lucky son of a bitch that got to tie her down. It'd be the most use his descendant could ever be, even if it meant watering down his blood. She was pretty much a dead end anyway if she was this weak and pathetic in the living realm too.

Still conjoined to her, Moros decided he had his fun with Mariah, and now it was time to cut her loose until their next meeting. Rising up above her in a display of dominance, tail curling up over his spine, the brute chuckled low and threatening in his throat. "I hope you learned some valuable lessons tonight, Mariah. I look forward to seeing you again to show you even more. And don't you worry, you will be seeing me again." Sharp fangs gleamed in a wicked smile, and then Moros held her head still while he lunged down and snapped his jaws around the back of Mariah's neck. Those fangs tore through the scrawny fae's flesh, cutting through muscle and sinew straight down to bone, and once Moros had Mariah's spine in his jaws, he bit down hard and yanked back. There was a sickening crunch and snap of bone breaking, and then Mariah was gone, disappearing into thin air like a fine mist. He knew he could not kill her, and doing so would just wake her up abruptly in the living world, but it would still be a brutal and cruel punctuation to end their first encounter with. Sated and satisfied, Moros flopped onto his back in the darkness with a content sigh and a wide grin on his face, eagerly awaiting the next little morsel to land in his web.

- exit Moros -

"Moros"