YOU'RE GONNA BREAK THE WORLD FOR ME

Blood. It was the one force that drove every aspect of life. The feel of blood roaring in ones ears, or the sound of a heartbeat- whether it was the first or the last that one would take. Figuratively, blood stained his pelt, the crimson tide of all his victims casted an overwhelming aura, shadowing him to be the deamon that he claimed to prevalently to be. If he was covered in blood of others, surely no one could stop him? If he was this far into the darkness, shouldn?t he live a little and enjoy it? He was going to burn in hell anyways.
Wrath. It drove him, the anger making his blood boil. It gave him a reason- a purpose. Anger was his primal emotion, one of the only emotions that he honestly felt. Anger at himself, at those who destroyed his life. Anger at Amaranth. Anger at life. Anger at whatever God, ruled the heavens for casting him into such a dark pit of hell.

Languid strides propelled his ivory bodice forward at a relentless pace, the wind ripping into his thick pelt, as he pelted through the eastern land. Paws thrummed against the ground, eyes burning with hatred. As to what had set him off, he wasn?t sure. Maybe it was the fact that everywhere he turned he kept getting reminders of things her preferred to forget. Or mayhaps, he just wanted to be angry. After all anger was by far an easier emotion to deal with.

The wind roared into his face, and he was soon hit with the musky smell of a packs borders. He didn?t care, he crossed the borders with fury. Ivory form slammed into a dark wolf, scent telling him she was female. He snarled, the sound feral and tearing from his throat as he bit into her, thrashing his head, tearing her flesh. Her blood met his jaws, and it soothed his anger, though his attack was taken over by blood-lust- the need to kill her. He needed to kill her. He needed the taste of her in his mouth. Pain laced through him, only fueling his need for her, as she tore into him. She was a fighter- he?d never forget this one.

Crashing, her carried them to the ground, his jaws ripping back, taking with them a chunk of flesh. Whimpers were all the he could hear, and as he zoned back in to his victim, he let out a chuckle. He pushed himself to stand above her, and stared down at her noting her defining blue eyes. He ripped into her, canines closing on the flesh of her underbelly, and pulling. Jaws snapped hard around his victims legs, crunching into the bones. He enjoyed the snapping, the sound of the bones breaking in the flesh was like music to his alabaster ears.

He bit deep into her, teeth piercing the soft flesh. Leaving deep and gaping bite wounds in her bodice. He would rip chunks of her and chewed on them, swallowing, he reveled in the taste. He enjoyed it. Vaguely he reflected on his first victim here, a wolf from the north and how he had enjoyed her much like he was enjoying his current victim. Burrowing his jaws into her belly, he searched for a particular organ, one that he had preference too. Clasping his jaws around her liver, he pulled it out, a sick grin on his face as he looked down at her, before tilting his jaws back, swallowing the organ whole.

He could see the pain in her eyes. He knew what it was like to be torn into. The fire that coursed through one as canines pierced your fur, the wish to die- so it would all end. He understood, but he didn?t care. Stepping away from her, her blood dripping from his jaws, he looked at her with a slight smile before speaking.

?I know how you feel right now. You want to die, but if you wouldn?t mind, I?d quite enjoy to finish my meal while you are alive.? His words were low, a growl, the tone serious though something akin to amusement glimmered in his two-toned eyes. Turning his jaws, he bit into her shoulder, peeling some of the flesh from the joint with a chuckle. The flesh slid easily down, and the taste was so taboo, but so excellent. Licking his lips, he backed away from her, standing to watch her. Perhaps, this is what had damned him to the deepest depths of hell, he had enjoyed it. Every whimper she expressed was like ecstasy, orgasmic in its pleasure as the sound sang through his audits. This was better than any fuck he had ever had, he could choose this any day over sex. This was the best feeling? ever.

He left a mess in his wake, and the mess amused him greatly. He wondered who would be the first one to find her- and what they would see. Would she be alive to great that person? If he was a prayer, he?d pray it would be so. He wondered what she would say? Would she utter sentiments like his others? Would she curse her existence into hell? Would she be greeted be a lover? Oh, how he longed to stay around and watch his handi-work unfold.

He hadn?t planned this. No, he didn?t wake up today craving the taste of another in his mouth. That was simply a bonus, a surprise delight. She had simply been in his path, in the path of his insanity, his ruthlessness. A sigh escaped him, and her turned, stepping away from his meal and disappeared into the forest. His wrath appeased, his mind more focused. A laugh escaped him, as he thought about how ridiculous it seemed that he had to eat of another, to calm down. That didn?t matter now. The blood that stained his fur would wash away, and there would be little reminder in his life, of his meal. Paws carried him over the border, where, he, Creedance Voltaire, would disappear.

-exit Creedance-

ooc; let me just say, 1,015 words, yo.