What is the strongest emotion in a living being?
Not just a human’s, no. The one of a living and breathing being, capable of experiencing and proving a certain form of intelligence, the one that would make recognition of emotions, of situations ( lust, love, anger, fear, terror ), easier and faster to handle, faster to skip over and away from. But what was the strongest of them all?
Love? Fear? Hate?
“Your family~? Of course, of course~!”
Still to speak with voice in form of a lullaby, childish behavior, like a childish game to be played, when eyes would watch, carefully so, the fine changes in the youth’s ways to put himself in front of the personification of everyone’s inevitable end~ Hesitance, is a form of fear. One to be said that it was feeble, one to be shown that it could be overthrown by anything stronger ( like determination ! - for the long lost - for love ? ). And to show it so openly, but mostly unknowingly, a smirk and words to be spoken by himself, they were all too encouraging on a level that was - frightening.
“Quite a target, I do have to admit, and to call them ‘family’ despite your wish to have them perish from this earth, they surely offered you quite a fate to develop such - hatred~”
Like a shadow whispering to lay itself over one’s mind, when the Shinigami leaned close and offered words just for the thrown-out pup, to soothe with gentle gesture and hushed sounds the one mistreated ( and not even by himself alone ! ). But would he, the one that could bring demise on a level unmatched, do the same to those he called his own?
“But, what about we bring your wish just a bit further~” Make it more cruel. Test determination to throw yourself into fangs of a predator and destroy whatever would tie you to a past such loathed and despised, to become a toy of one that juggled with lives by own motivation and urge. “To offer you the last breath of those that enkindled such rage~ How about you watch me spill their blood~?” Watch the silver death tear their minds, then their bodies to shreds? Delightful! “Or is this more than your hunger for revenge can stomach~?”
“No, they’re--!! They’re not...” he had tried to voice the moment Death himself had mentioned the title Emil had so easily let slip from his mouth, but the words had died on his tongue before he could finish the thought. Without a doubt, and no matter how hard Emil had tried to deny it to himself and to others, the pack that had taken his dearly beloved was none other than the pack that had raised him. Family.
“They’re... not my family...” he muttered, not even believing his own declaration. If he couldn’t even convince himself, how would he be able to convince someone else? Emil knew it was more than just his personal feelings -- the blood of werewolves as a potent thing, and to be able to betray that bond was far more difficult than any human would be able to understand.
The thought had nearly made him retch, teeth clenching and gaze falling to the ground that sat between their feet. How pathetic of him to be able to still call them that -- after everything they had done. Emil should have called them parasites, or blemishes. Things that existed on this planet that would have been better off exterminated for good. His lip was pulled between his teeth, and he chewed lightly.
That is, until Undertaker had spoken yet again with an offer that had made the wolf’s eyes immediately focus up on the taller’s scarred features once more.
“You... You would let me watch?” Emil murmured, disbelief glazing over his eyes with the idea of he, himself, being able to partake. A weakling like him..! To be able to take his revenge with his own hands, to watch their blood spill on the very same ground they had scarred and broken him.
That sickening feeling that had clenched at his stomach quelled much quicker than he had expected, his body almost relaxing as if coming to terms with what would have to be done.
“No, I... I can handle it..! Please, they-- They need to pay!”
