♦.Wolficidal Killer.♦

[Destiny]

"I hate everything about you,
Why do I love you?"

Oh, that sweet toxic tune had drifted through this beast's web of forgotten thought many a-time before. Dismal intoxication was most certainly, undoubtedly what signaled the hellish 'sonnet' into frontal portion of thinking for time being. Just a sugary, soft whisper of abolished love, of despicable hatred which poured from each little inch of flesh. Yet, at the very same time, it was a screaming fury. The outraged cry of a blood-seeker, flesh-ripper, life-taker. The ballad of a murderer. The sonnet of a lover.

The long, gangly tree branches bent inwards; seeking to hold 'hands' with their partner across-the-way, mayhaps. Ominously, darkly lush green, sky would be well hidden in Summer time. Sweet scent of flowers -lilac, lily, daffodil, rose,- lingered then, and occasionally on into Autumn. Brambles with thorns so sharp they'd rip the flesh right off your face. Never get to close to those little devils of mother natures creation. Lengthy tendrils of aging vines stretched skyward into the tree tops, dissapeared as part of the canopy. Delicious berries on their bushes packed tightly alongside the pathway that was being followed.

-But that was in Summer.-

Now was different, very much so. Whistle of wind cried out. Once lush foliage was now most certainly not so. Azure sky broke effortlessly through the frost-bitten tangle of branches, who glimmered brightly as the light caught their ice crystal coating. Cold, dead, barren. Slick, slippery ice covered the path now; no longer a blanket of leaves and moss. Soft, bitterly cool snowflakes danced and cascaded from the sky to coat the frozen earth, more so. No sweet, 'happy memory triggering' scents now. No reminder of a 'lovely' childhood. Not now; this was Winter. Siveria's reign. Luckily, not Verlust's. If that were the case, the poor bastard probably wouldn't have any toes left unfrozen.

You cried out, but no one heard you.

So the scene was set, really. No fresh wolven scents flittered on the wind to this area. No fresh markings; what wolf would be stupid enough to dare? Not on this brute's turf, no sir. Yet, not a paw had been placed by the devil along these stones in moons. They had been counted; it had been at least three New Moons, -speaking of New Moon, the little (that is a cruel choice of word) wretch was probably cooking up another scheme to fling this way right at this second- since the commit-er of wolficide, that is what you'd call it he supposed, had been around. So much time spent in the Mountains Of Endless Winter. Why? Why? Why would anyone possibly care to ask such a question. Sekhmet, maybe, -she was his mate, after all- but no one else. There was no one else.

Burn to ashes for all I care.

Mephisto? Oh, that son of a bitch could go rot in the deepest, darkest, hottest, most bone-shattering, teeth-rattling, ear-numbing, heart-breaking, eye-blinding part of Tartarus. Let Death have his way with him. Fling the little shit at Lupus' paws. Each and every inch of flesh slowly, painfully peeled away. Haul out his bloodied teeth. Rip out those horrid eyes. Cut off his tail, slice off his ears. Not the tongue, oh no, Mephisto should beg for mercy. Mercy was what he'd be getting if that was all that happened to the murdering serial killer of a wolf.

Destiny? What was she to him? Maybe she'd been great once, when she was young. Sure, she'd gotten the Destinians through a lot of hard times, the pack had even been named after her. While still living! Conceited harlot. Dead now, of course. Dead, dead, dead. And he, HE, had done the deed. Oh yes, bastard was proud. But not satisfied. One psychotic, completely insane, idioticly proud and selfish mother dead was no where near enough. Sure, he'd been a mere pup when she died. Maybe the fangs that took life from Destiny had not been his. So what if that damn half sister Akaira, little angelic wolf-ess that she was, had 'accidently' taken out mommy-dearest. No big deal. It was the beast's fault that Destiny had died. He'd triggered it. It was HIS kill. Not that pathetic welp's. She'd pay. Oh yes, Akaira would pay. For what? Simple really. For denying him the right to taste mommy's blood. Why did it matter? Because it had been HIS purpose for existence. And she'd stolen away the only thing the brute had been sure of. Yeah, she'd pay, with her life.

Blood will spill and hearts will rip, From the silver lining slip!

Hardened by the rocky mountains, paw-pads had no trouble with the cold or the stabbing from the ice. It wouldn't have been a bother even if skin had been pierced. Silence was the only thing that greeted him. Of course. Sekhmet would, if his dearest beloved still had that emotion called love in his direction, recognize his scent soon enough. If she didn't care that lover was still alive, well, that was that. The last time they'd seen each other, really seen each other, had been a tough one. Sweetheart had set up a little test for her new mate. To make sure he was 'worthy' of her love, he'd thought at the time. Of course, there had been one encounter after this, but that had been a heartfelt night. Occasionally, he wondered if she'd popped out any little prodigies after the disappearance of 'imself. Oh well, didn't matter now. Maybe it would soon, but not at this second.

Anyway, the test had been quite the trying one. Sekhmet had poisoned him, with.. what had it been... nightshade? Oh yes. And, to make things a little more fun, she'd hidden the Siverian Beta Nightshade, pregnant with pups of Iver at the time (Bastard knew all; having Twilight and Hellfirian connections was helpful) in one of the caves. Oh, and, of course, just to make things really fun? A couple of grizzly bears. Yeah. He'd almost died. Would have drowned on the way out. But she'd saved him. In that last instance, when vision was blurring and darkness seeping into the corners and edges, when lungs were taking in water and he was choking and drowning... She'd come. And he was alive because of it. But that wasn't why he loved her.

Toxin is deadly; but I like to dance with death.

Come to think of it, you should ask 'er sometime. Sekhmet's probably the only one who could ever answer such a question. Why DID he love her? Bastard probably didn't know 'imself. Of course, as those massive paws carried muscular, titan of a form around the borders, which he so kindly remarked, of his turf, the thoughts were running through mind. Indeed they were. Blood stained claws clicked on the wood of a fallen tree trunk which served as a bridge over a small river. Velvety fire tipped ears swiveled forwards; perked to listen. Wicked black holes of hatred (they could certainly be called that, those eyes of his.) scanned swiftly the immediate surrounding area. Whats that? Rustle in the brush. Jaws parted a tad, take in a good whiff of that scent. Mmmmm.... A nice little wolfie for supper. How delectable.

I will find you, and I will kill you.

So maybe he hadn't payed enough attention to smell the intruder. At the same time, the carcass had been moronic enough to venture over the now fresh borders. Oh well. Lunch had been good, at any rate. Humming softly to himself, as if it was the perfectly normal thing to do, butcher began to assemble the bones in a nice pattern on the ground. Break apart that last rib, put that here, and you have quite the little message written in the dirt. A heart made out of bone; blood stained bone, that is. Below it, a single sentence. Statement, really. It read:

I'll be back for you.

When did this little psychopath - correction, he's perfectly sane and normal, well, maybe not normal, but that is far beyond our level of comprehension- learn how to freakin' spell? Doesn't matter, really. Destiny had done crazier things. Why couldn't the serial killer be a romantic, too? Sekhmet would know who the message was from. Maybe. Hopefully.

It'll take some time, but I'm comin' right 'round the bend.

Several minutes later, he was gone again. Paw prints left a clear, rouge trail in the freezing snow. But that didn't matter. As soon as he crossed over into the Mountains Of Endless Winter again, brute would be lost to even the best of trackers. Maybe.

In a half an hour, give or take some time, depending on how close or how far, someone might stumble across his little message. Hopefully it'd be darling dearest. Hopefully.

And with that,
Loni was gone.
But he'd be back.
Oh yes, oh yes.
Hide under your covers, puppies..
Or the Loni-man will get you.
Bwahahahahahahahahhahahaha....
*maniacal laughter continued til fade out completed*

( DESTINY WAS HERE :::: She'll be back, oh yes, oh yes. -This is just to say Loni LIVES! Hide under your beds, my dears. Bwahaha... Feel free to reply to this thread... But I won't respond. Probably. Maybe. Especially you, Sivvy. I'd like to see Sekhmet's reaction. You can be sure I'll be checking in to see. Kekekekeee..... -maniacal laughter-....... _Crazy Wolf Winged Girl Dissapears Into A Puff Of Smoke_ )

[Sivoncé™]

^{You taste just like glitter}
Mixed with rock & roll...[/color][/b][/font]

Once upon a startop mountain...
The sky was encrusted with a million and one diamond specters, clinging in desperate romance to the cloak of night -- amorous stars. So strong were they in their refusal to let go to their beloved night enchantress....they allowed the sunlight to scorch their images away in day's shine if only to be where night was banished for these hours. And night was their water, their air, their only sanctuary. The essence of sanity.
Winter was frothing here, instilled in permanence as far as any form of life could be concerned. Spring was breathing its tender whisper to the sloping valleys below the overlooking castle, but winter would never truly leave these lands. They drifted and rolled with it, sharp crags and deep divots of white. Forever.

Life...life was different here.
It had been ever since she had traveled here, on limbs once slender and lean with muscle, pawsteps easily slit by stones thirsting for color, skin that was once chilled to the grave by blaring windstrikes and shifting snowstorms. Always a victim to this planet. This was a different planet as far as she could tell....but a safe one. She'd heard the Blood Mist calling her. She'd walked away.
'Cause I didn't feel like it.
She remembered, vaguely, the nights flying on softer pawsteps in the forest below. But now, her pads were calloused. Faint images of a thinner pelt that ruffled in the most hesitant of shiftings in the air. Now she had the thick pelt of a mountain wolf, still the forest brown with a tan upper coat, though. Dreams danced through her brain that involved a female who relied mainly of swiftness of body and mind rather than force. Now her limbs were tough as the pine trunks that littered themselves leisurely across her mountain. Her mountain.
'Cause everyone that comes here dies at my paws.
New scars drew modern myths across her face and back -- marks from a fight with a mountain wolf who might've been named Kroknar. Another one of those patriarchal packs. She'd taken them out. Weaklings. Neighboring packs had been encroaching upon them, and they were but a moon or so from being depleted completely. When she'd killed Kroknar, the alpha, the pack had bowed to her, would've welcomed her as a ruler. She gave them her decree. Their demise.
'Cause I couldn't care less if they just burn in hell.

The hunt was on her now, fresh bloodlust radiating from the core of her bodice. Crouching into her well-practiced prowl, the prowl that had evaded her at first, but then thought twice and came around. The prowl of a mountain huntress. In seconds, she was running -- the speed she'd used as a lifeline in the forest had not eluded her. The prey had been mountain hare. Didn't matter now. Its blood was in the snow, crimson splattered white, and on her paws; Sekhmet relished this...

But there was blood spattered just inches from her. Old. Crusted, curdles. And a kill. A hateful waste. A flicker of fury began as a lit match within her, dancing down a rushing waterfall of gasoline. A ticking time bomb...just counting the seconds until the inferno would burst forth.

"Loni."
The word tasted odd on her tongue, and the word was not quite right. It sounded wrong, strange, foreign. Not right on her mountain tongue, tainted now with new intonations and flavoring from her time here. Time? How long had it been?
How long has it been since I loved you?

I like you a lot, lot...
Dancing in a rain-soaked woodland, they'd been anointed as such, as cruel and hateful as they'd ever been, there was a hole inside of them both. A hole in their masque of homicidal lust that was spattered with crude but, nevertheless, a heat that only built to intensify. The true inferno that scorched her every movement and motion; the actual blaze of her being. It was something called love, something contrary to anything either of them had ever done. Inevitable intimacy. And Sekhmet had changed then, too. She knew she was but a lupine figure. Nothing more. She ended her testings of wolvenkind with Loni.
"Loni, Loni, Loni...."
There. That sounds better.
The word rolled gracefully across her tongue. Not a mountain voice. One of the forest, one of the mountain bases. One that longed for Loni more than of blood, though neither lust was ever satisfied. One of finality. Of leaving.

...think you're really hot, hot

And
Sekhmet was gone
as the shadow of the day flooded the night in rapture.

[Destiny]

Okay, maybe I'll kill you all..

Shattered. A thousand little fragments of the greater masterpiece cascaded Hell-ward. Flipping and twisting; giving off a rainbow of rays as the Mountain sunlight caught them. Each little, divine crystaline piece its own prism of beauty. Even a wolficidal killer like this one knew true, pure, untouched beauty when he saw it. They danced before him; down into the bottomless pit. Well, technically speaking, it had some bottom somewhere. But you'd never live to see it if you fell. Maybe, if a wolf could get to the other side, they could follow that path downwards. There were pathways along the cliffsides, you see. Secret tunnels and passages; things that a pup could only begin to imagine. Places that were truly secret. And though he hadn't found them all, or come even close, Loni sure as Hell knew his way around the underground.

I'm a trail blazer, you see. A true, bonafied, trail blazer.

Tilting a claw, a secon stalagmite was sent tumbling downwards. Smashing into the jagged rocks on the cliffsides. Breaking into many slivers of ice. His own personal show. What could possibly be more fun then being the ring leader? Britney Spears sure seemed to pull it off well. Wait, who? Eh, doesn't matter. There are some really strange things in this world. ... Really strange.

A glance over the shoulder. If anyone were to come along right about now, they'd see a 'crazy' wolf sitting on the very ledge of the gorge. Slicing icicles off the the nearby tree so he could watch them fall. Who does that? Loni. Really, why would you even ask. What doesn't Loni do? Oh, thats right. Matricide. He doesn't do matricide. Stupid Akaira.

You see, I hate you. And I'm gonna get you.

Snarling quietly to himself, the brute turned and slunk back towards the path. The blood trail had stopped several miles back; but if anyone were to follow him that far they'd have little trouble continuing on the right path. There was only one right way over that last Mountain. Of course, as he scaled the cliffside, following a perilous trail downward, then upward again many miles later, Loni never once felt fear. Ten million times later, you get used to it. Really, this was an unnecessary precaution. But he didn't want to take any chances. Sekhmet was the only wolf he'd ever want to come looking for him; and she was sure as Hellfire going to be the only one that ever found him. Akaira could go jump of a friggin' cliff. Hehe... Maybe he should push her next time.

Don't worry, it'll be fun. You'll see. You'll like death.

Humming softly to self, brute stopped. Why bother along this path, anyways. He didn't want to go downward. That was his Summer home. Frontal limbs stretched skyward, bloody claws hooking a slab of rock not far above. Swiftly, Loni dragged, lept, and climbed his way up the cliffside. Slowly, the brightness of day began to greet 'im again. The blinding pure whiteness of Winter. Why did he have a Summer home? Simple. Summer never came to the Mountains Of Endless Winter, and in the magical event that it did? He wanted to be as far away from the lush happy brightness as possible. Shag life and happy-go-lucky mates and all that other bloody vbull shit.

Screw your bloody happy season. I'll keep the cold.

So close, yet so far. Not two miles ahead was his cave. His own personal series of tunnels. And there she was. Well, she wasn't standing there, of course. But that nasty, vile scent told Loni all that was needed. Akaira had figured out that the Mountains were his hiding place. And she'd come a huntin'. Snarling furiously, he scrambled back down the cliffside. But this time, a claw slipped. Letting out a surprised howl, Loni went a tumblin' down. O' course, it would be to merciful to kill the bastard. So, instead, he fell about ten feet and then landed on a slab of rock. The sound from the impact was loud, and it echoed throughout the abyss. "Help me..."

You know, maybe the situation was bad enough. But, just to make it a little worse? Across the expanse of nothingness there was a wolf. A female, dazzlingly pelted, divine creature. If you were anyone but Loni, that is. For all the poor bastard saw was a wicked Hellfirian banshee lurking across the abyss. Waiting to come kill him. That horrid, pure, dark, ominous aura of black still radiated from her. But he could swear it had gotten thicker. What kind of a mask did she wear today? A cold chill skittered along his spinal ridege; a shiver of fear. For all he had done, for all he was.. Loni was terrified of Akaira. Bitch sat there now, leaning inwards, a sneer on her face no doubt. Just sat and stared. And laughed. What a horrid, vile, cold, dark, cackling laugh. An insane laugh. An evil laugh.

"Sekhmet..."

I'll never give up,
I'll never give in,
I'll never let you in.[/size][/color]

[Sivoncé™]

^{Are you listening?
(woah-oh-woah-oh)}

Brisk, sharp, short, knifelike. The pawsteps rushed to the executor without hesitence now, and she brought them to life with her slender frame. Like Da Vinci's finest brush flowing over an eager canvas, her limbs flexed and bunched beneath her calloused skin, and they came to her by mere instinct, or perhaps inborne talent. Instinct....
Regardless, she was in motion. The world whirred in white and spoltchy matches of muddied green. The earth vomiting the bile that ran with spring, in the eyes of the temptress in her run. Bile that soaks and floods and buries winter's crystaline beauty. No ally of mine. Not a problem at all -- without enemies, I would not have become so skillful. Springtime foul -- illustration of my sugar-drenched and daisy-coated nemesis. Let the sun scorch their throats at least...

^{Sing it back}
(a-woah-oh-woah)

[/sup][/color][/right]
T'wasn't long before the desperation of the need became imminent and terribly clear to the fae. It was unmistakeably spell-binding, the crashing waved of it were. Blasting and roaring and thrasing with all of their fresh ripped throats, all bloodied and agonized in the parting of a great red sea. A red sea of blood, one that was the life of Skehmet. Her life had been pushed away to the sides as Loni passed through her central expanse;; Loni felt none of her oceanic wrath, but walked as Moses walked, beloved, protected by nature itself. Her nature would never inflict her salted seawater creulty. Never wet a hair on his head. But instead, the salt rawed her tongue and shot her front to back with a million and one needles, all tipped in glittering silver stakes. The hunger was unstoppable. Water did nothing to cool nor calm nor soothe her; now, as she pelted onward with burning limbs and pyre-licked internals, the thirst for Loni was as deadly as a bullet. Lethal as a fall from the mountain's summet, an avalanche, a hurricane. Therefore, there was just as much motivation to run.

^{I'm still running away,}
(I'm still running away)[/sup][/i][/color]
Faster, faster, faster, faster...
In descent, she slid down the slope in a half-roll half-run, for no longer was she of high mountain bloodline. Broken from the glacial cages of anonymity, Sekhmet, again, was a villainess to the world at large. Back for her new debut -- on the fringes of a mountain morning. The snow rippped under her paws, groaning as her ivory claws snagged to a stop. Hot, panting breath cascaded out in the chilled mountain air, though she had come down considerably from her watch tower on the world's rooftop. Her eyes were searching now, scanning the expanse. Drips of crimson.....that god-forsaken heavenly scent that drives my mind to insanity everytime I freaking near it, everytime I taste it, I see it, I feel it I---Shaking. Her limbs were shaking.

^{I won't play hide-and-seek games,}

"Loni....Loni, I'm not waiting for you to come back for me. I'll go to you, loved Loni."

...your hide-and-seek games.