Don't Try To Make Me Feel Bad

OOC: PP permission granted by Chrono through Discord. I apologize in advance for what I'm about to do.

The feel of the other large brute's body tumbling about beneath his brought Alastor a rush of adrenaline he hadn't felt in some time. His initial bites bit down on nothing but air, teeth snapping and clicking with audible lethality close to tender skin and tendons yet missing their intended marks. Kefka's voice teased him, taunted him, accused him of fucking his daughter. Alastor hadn't laid a paw nor other part of his anatomy on the girl—which was more than Kefka could claim now—despite the obvious temptation from Relm's biological change as she came of age. The girl was under his protection now and he would give the demented clown a demonstration of what happened when someone dared to harm a wolf that was his. Empty abyssal eyes locked with the tear-stained lifeless black gaze that mirrored his own in the clown wolf's face, feeling nothing but burning rage for the cretin. The tears meant nothing to Alastor, not if he'd begged for his life, and not now as his fangs sunk into the skin of his opponent's chest and neck. Thick, hot blood gushed across his tongue, activating the primal part of his brain that craved violence and gore. His bloodlust kicked in, removing every conscious part of Alastor until there was nothing in the brute's head but the baser predator looking for his next kill.

Kefka fought back with fang and claw, finally understanding the dark dire brute's murderous intent. Alastor was only barely cognizant of the sting of Kefka's teeth tearing into his chest, the flashes of hot pain sparking bursts of red in his brain. The pain excited the sadomasochist, spurring him into a wilder state. Adrenaline and dopamine drowned out his pain receptors so all he felt was the high of combat and the delicious flavor of blood in his mouth. The predator in him craved more. Alastor brought his muzzle down to snap over Kefka's when the clown went for another bite to his scruff, forcing the other wolf's muzzle shut while he bit down with all his might until he felt bone crunch and Kefka's jaw broke. A large black paw took a swipe at his foe's face, digging those gem claws into the skin of Kefka's left brow until he felt bone, then tearing slowly down through his flesh until those same claws poked through the thin membranes of Kefka's left eye. With a vicious snarl muffled by his opponent's muzzle still in his jaws, Alastor shoved a clawed digit forward and pierced Kefka's onyx eye, eviscerating the delicate organ in a pop of gore and viscera.

Alastor released his enemy's muzzle just to allow him the opportunity to hear Kefka's sounds of pain and anguish. The clown might not give him what he wanted, but it didn't matter. Whether he died screaming or died silently, nothing could save the fallen Abraxas now. With his paw still gripping Kefka's skull with a digit hooked in his bloody eye socket, Alastor lifted the blood and two stained wolf's head and slammed it ruthlessly down into the ground once, twice, three times as hard as he could. Alastor snarled as he hurled Kefka's body across the ground by his head, marching up to the half blind wolf slumped across the ground before he could get back to his paws. He caught Kefka with a paw to the smaller brute's back, forcing him back down before lunging with wicked jaws to snap down on the closest foreleg to him, biting down at the elbow joint and twisting until he felt more snapping beneath his teeth. He didn't just want to kill his opponent; he wanted Kefka to suffer, to know his end was coming and to feel every bit of pain he deserved until he felt nothing ever again.

Alastor felt the warm blood on his coat from the numerous injuries Kefka had managed to land on him, but it did nothing to slow down the dire wolf's rampage. Swinging a paw into Kefka's underbelly, Al dug his claws into the other brute's soft flesh and rolled him onto his back, tearing those razors of siam gemstones down from torso to groin. Holding his writhing form down, Alastor slowly tore his claws down through Kefka's sensitive flesh, manic obsidian eyes watching with malevolent glee as he separated Kefka's manhood from his body, a fitting punishment for the vile lecher who'd violated his own child. Kefka's legs kicked up at him, catching Alastor beneath the chin and clocking him so hard he saw stars, but it was far too late. The brute's balls came off next, tearing them away with violent yank of claws rending the thin flesh that housed them. Kefka swung for him again, catching Alastor off guard when the Abraxas' claws slashed across his face in a similar way the Mendacium man had done to him but fortunately just missing his eye in the process. Alastor snarled as drips of blood spilled down his face, the searing pain melting away into a demented pleasure that left him giddy and euphoric. Kefka curled his body upwards to sink teeth into Alastor's foreleg, biting down with a tremendous force that nearly yanked Alastor off his paws.

Wide, tooth-filled grin splitting his maw from ear-to-ear, the demon faced down at the clown, laughing like a maniac while he swung his paw up and caught his claws on the soft tissue connecting Kefka's jaw to his skull. With a grunt and strain, Alastor yanked Kefka from off his leg with a splatter of blood. Still gripping the clown by beneath his snout, Alastor slammed the Abraxas to the ground beneath him for the final time. Pushing Kefka's muzzle up and held it out of his way, Alastor slowly dropped his muzzle to his opponent's throat, savoring the way he fought and struggled all the while. Kefka got a couple more slashes across Alastor's face and neck with his lashing paws, pushing against the blood-soaked face and neck of Alastor with all his might to prevent the coup de grace and stay alive, but it was in vain. Alastor parted his jaws, the warmth of Kefka's throat filling his mouth, fangs pricking at tender flesh. Then Alastor slowly bit down, applying more and more pressure as he went until he felt the pop of veins and arteries and the squish of tearing meat. Muscle and sinew tore beneath his teeth and the brute's blood poured into his mouth with each numbered beat of his twisted heart. Alastor groaned while the coppery flavor consumed him, black eyes rolling in his head. Then, holding Kefka's head down with one paw and another on his chest, Alastor ripped the clown's throat away from his body.

Alastor spat the mass of fur and flesh to the ground and stood above the dying wolf, watching as his body twitched and convulsed in its death throes. By now, Kefka would have known he was already dead. It would only be a minute or two before the brute's heart pumped the last of his blood out of the gaping wound on his neck, already starting to pool beneath his bloody and beaten body. Alastor would watch every last second of Kefka's life with violent glee. The wolf that had made an attempt to fuck his former fiancée, the wolf that had raped his own daughter, experiencing his final moments at his feet, bleeding out in the dirt where he belonged. Alastor was no paragon of virtue or justice, but it felt like karmic revenge to the sociopathic demon. He watched Kefka as he died, a paw still pressing down on his chest to keep the clown pinned where he was, just until he ceased moving. Once Kefka fell still and the gurgling sounds of blood spilling from his throat had ceased, Alastor moved to grab his fallen foe's head with two large paws, twisting violently until he felt the vertebrae snap and Kefka's head had been turned 180 degrees, just for good measure. Alastor gazed down into the remaining lifeless black eye that stared into nothingness, never to see again. He let Kefka's corpse drop unceremoniously to the ground then, breathing hard while he trembled with an odd mixture of arousal and euphoria, basking in sweet, delicious, bloody victory.

"Alastor Mendacium"