DEATH ON A QUEEN-SIZED BED

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? her pursuer is terror personified, accented in barbed embellishments and lavished in rugged musculature that only stresses his behemoth physique. and she is the smaller -- the petite { in comparison to he } -- adorned in her arsenal of lacerations as she harbors the framework of the naturally impressive, each curve of sinewy muscle discernable through her pallid coat. yet, despite her obvious corporeal disadvantages over the hound, the phantom deity remains wholly unfazed by his looming presence, disinterest laden upon her disfigured countenance as she regards him with a vacant gaze. robust appendages cease to propel her any further as the monstrosity lays waste to the distance that separates them until naught but mere feet linger between, poise retaining its immaculacy with her skull ascended high above the remainder of her serpentine spinal cord and her tail held in level alignment with the ground below. abstract gaze ravages his own striking amethyst eyes and immediately recognition grows prominent; it had been he who had dared to invade upon the elysius? domain when she had first seized her crown from the former valhallan queen -- when she had been an ambitious youth and he had been a whimpering boy.



it is made evident to the tyrant queen that her brutish companion is aware of her identity, her supreme surname cascading from lips bewitched into a devious smirk as he addresses her with venomous tones. and yet, the phantom maintains an indifferent guise as she allows her thoughts to waver to her initial mission, avid pupils haphazardly trailing his gargantuan form as she contemplates giving purpose to their inadvertent encounter. there is no denying his supreme genetics and how they might intertwine with her own quite perfectly; however, the tyrant must know if he possesses even the faintest iota of competence. ?hardly,? is the monotonous retort that infiltrates the silence of their surroundings, a singular brow quirking upon her scarred forehead as curiosity encumbers her features. ?shouldn?t you be off playing coward and preying upon the weak?? she inquires strategically, the bitterness over her brother?s unfair assault evident in the biting tones of her poisonous sentiment. ?-- or have you finally grown enough of a backbone to play fair?? she croons, her incent to provoke subtle enough to avoid suspicion. no -- the deity knows what game she is playing, and she will play it well if she is to obtain what she ultimately desires from this fated interaction.