Lips Of An Angel

N/A · 07-10-2013, 03:12 PM

He was a killer. A monster. The devil himself. A bastard. A sick, twisted, evil, sadistic bastard of a man who relished in the killing of others and bringing them pain. He was the worst kind of wolf there ever was and he had always loved that about himself. He was no saint. He never tried to be and he was never going to be. His sister and him had raised themselves to be killers. It had been imprinted in their DNA. It was something genetic, something imbedded deep down in his bones, something he couldn't deny. It was his nature to kill others, to torture them, to make them wish they had never burst forth from their mother's womb into this fucking world. It was what he'd been born to do. He'd started as whelp with his own litter of siblings, the only survivor being Cataleya of course, since she too had apparently inherited the same killing gene. And then it had continued as the youngsters had set out together, taking their killer natures out to introduce them to the rest of the world. Even with the pack that had adopted them, the siblings had never given up their favorite pastime. It had only been a matter of time before the two had taken their natures and turned them against the very foolish pack that had taken the two youngsters in. Killing. It was all he'd done his entire life and he wasn't about to stop now. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Right?

He didn't bother to turn around to glance at the little nymph, the gasps escaping from her tiny jaws were clue enough. She was shocked. Of course she was. Didn't think he was such a bad person did she? Stupid child. She needed to grow up already and realize that danger and evil was staring her in the face everywhere she walked. Not everything was sunshine and dandelions. Oh... You're one of those wolves. One of those wolves. So she was familiar with those who shared his particular hobby? It was about damn time she realized who the fuck he really was. He almost wanted to laugh at her as the realization of what she'd really done sunk in. She'd saved a murderer. A cold-blooded, heartless killer. Would she be able to live with herself knowing that she healed a man who like to take the lives of others, giving him a chance to continue torturing the world with his existence? He said nothing in return to her statement, cyan gaze rooted to the blood-stained ground beneath him, refusing to look at her. Why the fuck didn't she leave already! Now that she knew what he was, she had to leave! She had healed him. She was done. Or so he thought.

And of course the little pipsqueak hadn't left. Of course she was still fucking here. Why didn't she get the fucking hint and leave already! Why? Why would you do such a thing? She was standing before him, he could tell from the way her paws were placed before his, demanding answers from him that she really didn't want to hear. Demyan glanced up, cyan gaze meeting her sapphire one, seeing the hurt and anger that flashed across her own. He dropped his gaze, audits flattening against his skull, pale lips twisting into a snarl. Why the fuck did she care? Why did him killing others upset her so? They weren't anyone important, they had been fools! They had it coming for being such blind idiots for allowing him and his sister among their midst. Because that's what I do. I kill others because I like it. Came his rumbling snarl, the urge to snap towards her nearly overwhelming him, but Demyan pushed it down. It fought hard, but Demyan fought harder, subduing it, pushing it away, snuffing it entirely. Why the fuck are you still here? Are you stupid? I'm a killer you idiotic child. You healed me. Now get the hell out of here! Lyrics were angry, threatning, jaws snapping together against empty air, reverberating strongly against his own skull, cyan gems flashing angrily and yet he refused to lift his head to look at her. He couldn't. He couldn't handle the look of hurt that flashed in her sapphire pools. No. He refused to acknowledge it.

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