HELLFIRE MASSACRE!!! (battle thread!)

[Sivoncé™]

In reality, they were speeding and swerving by their allies and enemies like lightning, but to Nightshade and Babylonia, everything was in slow motion. Nightshade lunged for Babylonia's throat, fangs extended desperately, her only desire left: kill the bitch who was responsible for devising her family's torture. It was inches away, but Babylonia ducked and took a swipe at the beta's chest, ripping a large gash in the middle of her chest. A place where gashes already were thick and plenty.
And so suddenly, Nightshade was down for the count, knocked out of the ground, awaiting her death to be dealt. Anger had blinded the beta. An anger that Babylonia already knew how to wield to her advantage. She'd never stood a chance.
As she fell, her life flashed, not a steady tape, not blotting out any of the solid, true images in front of her, but still making themselves known.
Her puphood.
Orphaned.
Who knew who her parents were...?
Heather.
Amaya.
Oak.
Silver Mist.
Death stalking them.
Escaping.
More death.
Her dearest children.
The journey of a lifetime.
Her servitude to her pack.
And the traitor Iver had made her out as.
Iver might be giving up on a pack that needed him so much...
But she would never give up on the pack that had saved her life. Even if she wasn't of their blood, not a wolf here would ever guess it anymore, she knew this.
But she also knew the black, block letters that were staring her straight in the eyes once again:
I don't belong here.
The faces began to blur before her violet eyes as her head made impact, something cracking.
Escape again....it's not possible. Because all of this time, even since I left the Siverians, ever since Heather and Oak died......I've been in nothing but an afterlife.
Her eyes rested on Iver's obscured form.
I don't belong here.
All that is in the afterlife is dead.
Like my love for Iver. Like my own will and spirit.
And things that did good and are dead do not come back.
I know I did my best. I know I did good.
And when the end comes for me, I will never once look back.
And she faded to an unconscious coma, scarcely alive at all.

[Destiny]

From the very corner of his eye the brute caught it. Saw it. Knew she was down. His beloved Nightshade, his last hope, his love, was down. How easy to kill she would be now. "NO!" The scream was a mixture of fury, desperation and heartbreak. Iver tore away from Ashur, releasing the brute. Bad move. Ashur lunged, digging fangs into Iver's neck. But the alpha was to far gone now to care. Iver twisted, grabbed Ashur by the scruff, and pulled him away with such force that a chunk of flesh remained in the other wolf's maw. Fury in eyes Iver flung Ashur across the clearing with such power that the Hellfire abomination was literally doing somersaults. Until he slammed into the rock with a sickening series of cracks that is.

The wolf turned now, blood pumping, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Brute was very nearly foaming at the mouth, could fury do that to a wolf? Perhaps. Perhaps it was because of the way lips were drawn back, revealing bloodied fangs as he charged. Auds pinned to his skull, crimson coating the gray and brown fur, a slight flash of white? Bone? Oh dear. "GET AWAY FROM HER!!" Hind legs pushed figure up off the ground, and he sailed towards Babylonia. Claws reaching for her flesh, wanting to rip at it. Fangs wishing to rip that pretty little head right off its body. Own body trying to get between Nightshade and the devil fae.

[Sivoncé™]

But Babylonia looked as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Nightshade. Her name is NIGHTSHADE?!" She pronounced shrilly. "No. We can't kill her. There are wolves that would want her very much alive," she snapped through gritted teeth. "So what did they tell you all? To take care of their dear pup and tell her she's an orphan? Or did you really find her alone in the forest and just assumed as much?" She murmured, shaking her head. "Lithium might be more open to compromise now.....LET'S MOVE OUT! Just slit their damn throats. I've had enough of revelations today. And what's-your-face........" She whirled on Iver, claws surging forward towards his eye sockets, to tear, to rip. Her hind claws kicked him in the gut, and she pinned him before her claws flew in farther.

And on command, the curtain drew to a close, but Mystic and Corsivo never saw the end of this devil's show. Their heads were severed, bodies remaining on the stage where destiny and dark intentions made their collision while their minds fell to the ground below.
And all there could be in anyone's vision of this clearing was blood.
Red blood.

[Destiny]

The poor brute just barely jerked his head in time. Just a second later and he would've been blinded completely. The claws that had been aiming for his eye sockets, to gouge them out most likely, would hopefully miss just enough. Would hopefully rip into the features of his face, muzzle, cheeks, anything else. Body found itself being pinned to the earth, and dastardly wolf struggled and shook on the ground. A howl of agony ripping from maw as the crimson covered his vision. Seemed to seep into his mind. Nose might have found Nightshade then. Found her pelt, breathed in her delicious scent. Iver let it engulf him, his last means of peace. Crimson flowing from wounds, as the brute slowly bled to death. The first of twelve lives (I think? XD) slowly seeping from his body and onto the ground, helping to paint the earth red, though that might already have been done. But that delicious scent of his beloved calmed him. The frantic breaths slowed until they were barely audible at all. Body was simply limp, as the darkness began to enfold around him, and drag him down into its abyss. And her beautiful scent had engulfed so that it was all he knew as the life seeped away and he died, only to return to reality within several minutes, perhaps. Or perhaps, he would meet with someone before returning to it. Either way, the body seemed very much dead on the earth.

[Sivoncé™]

Iver...
Did you know right now, in your pack, there are wolves suffering?
Illness is there, Iver. You love Nightshade, yes, but we gave you a responsibility.
And trust me, by all means of Twilight, we can just as easily take it away.
And Twilight is not for wolves who commit suicide, who throw themselves away just because they think they are not strong enough.
Martyr, maybe, but at this point, you wouldn't be dying for her.
For her entire life, she believed she was an orphan. My mother cared for her like she was her own daughter, but you know well enough I saw her as not my sister, but a love.
But she does have a family....her blood is that of the mountains.
Her blood is very much alive. And right now, her fate is out of your paws. It's out of mine. It's out of anyone's but her own.
I love her. You know this. So if there was anyway for even you to help her, you should know I would let it be so. You should know that if it came down to her happiness, I wouldn't care if it was you. So long as to see her smile.
But things have turned.
So beware the afterlife, Iver.
If you don't live life....how could you ever have one after?
Oak's voice faded out, pained, agonized, desperate.

"Ashur!" She whispered breathlessly. Babylonia flew to him in an instant, unidentified liquids still clinging to her claws as she bent to his side, eyes so filled with pain it seemed she was an angel again, a weeping angel. She seemed small, almost vulnerable for a moment, croushed at his side, pelt brushing his, muzzle pressed into his fur. Slowly, she rose, offering her shoulder. Some of her partners gawked, which she responded to by whirling around suddenly and snarling coldly in their faces. Ashur was not weak. But he wasn't stupid, either. If he didn't need help walking, he just wouldn't take it. If he did, Babylonia clearly wouldn't think less of him....or feel hurt if he didn't take her offer. It was an option, not something that truly affected her if he was not hurt.
My brave, brave love....
we have much to talk about.

[Destiny]

The brute would have done anything. Anything. If Twilight had asked him to throw all twelve of his lives away, if she'd asked him to burn himself alive he would have done. Anything to save her.
But of course, how could he doubt Oak?
How could he think that Oak could be wrong? He couldn't. Wouldn't. This was Oak speaking to him. This was Nightshade's lover, the only one who would ever be her perfect match, her soul mate, speaking to her. At least Iver saw it that way. Iver knew he had never been meant for Nightshade. His first had been his soul mate. Pernille's mother, who's name he could not even think due to the agony which it caused him. And there would be never another. Never another that would love him back forever. Because life didn't work that way.
And now he knew that there was only one thing in this world that he had left.
His pack.
They needed him now, and they'd need him until he died his final death. What was he doing here? They needed him. And clearly, no matter what he did for Nightshade, he'd never save her from her destiny. It was her's. Not his. His had yet to unfold.

The brute's amber splashed eyes stared up at nothing for a few moments. Where did it hurt? Everywhere. No. That was not the proper answer. His leg. Left for leg, that was the main source of pain. Head lolled to the side as he heard his name. That gorgeous creature who he had taken from Gray Mist so long ago to become his mate there at his side. A soft grunt slipped through gritted fangs as the beast rolled himself onto his paws. Eyes closing for a second as he used three of four legs to shove himself up from the ground, but he realized that it would be more sensible to offer the shoulder of the beauty next to him. So he took her up on the offer, a crooked grin appearing on his maw it would seem. "Always were there just when I needed you." Quiet words, whispered into her ear in a raspy tone, and followed up by a little chuckle.

And during the time it took Ashur to get up, Iver had come back to life, rolled himself into the darkness, and took off. Ran home.

[Sivoncé™]

Nightshade's wake was a slow one.
Because she's heard everything, oddly enough. Without her love, without Amaya, without Heather, without Oak, the father of her pups, without Mystic, Blue Moon, or Silentfire....without nearly everyone, and hearing now that all this time, she had had family stored away somewhere, someone out there had given birth to her, someone out there had sired her...
...and without Sabela at her post, working overtime and overexerting herself for the good of the pack, without Annelise rushing along next to Magic, without any sort of leadership but her own, without any love in this coldhearted world....
...she rose to her paws fluidly, flinching in absolute agony as her limbs strained to raise her up. She stood tall, tufts of her pelt littering the ground next to Babylonia's. Blood masked her face and clung to her skin, stains that perhaps had always been there but were suddenly visible, tangible. Now, more than ever, she was violet nightshade, her coat of odd red and blue markings was thickened and laid flat with the crimson of herself and her enemies, the poison that was born unto her seeping through her seams, revealed and out for the world to see.
Her thinned frame trembled and shook, slowly at first, and then more violently as whimpers began to escape her throat, evolving into terrified screams as she collapsed into the mud and rivers of blood.
No wails of sorrow that her family was torn away.
Shrieks of dead realization. Shrekis of more than just grief.
Nightshade is a pretty flower...
and it is absolutely nothing but a lethal poison.
And everyone close to me will die.
A mother who never wanted me.
A father who never wanted me....
I can seem them. I can see their faces now...
It's a wonder they're still living....
Well they were smart enough to keep their distance.
She crumpled once more and let sleep wash over her.
...without a life untainted, without a future that's left to your own making, without there being a difference between what's right and what is wrong, without any sanity at all, without anything that was steady throughout all time's existence, without any rebounding from the sorrow, without anyway out, without even suffocation as a garunteed occurrence....
...the world becomes a mighty stranger.