I don't know. It seems that, this time, I'm at a loss.
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I don't know. It seems that, this time, I'm at a loss.
I'm not sure what the fuck is going on or how long I've been out, but this is seriously one hell of a goddamn nightmare.
-- Being locked indoors was a good plan for tonight after all.
"-- For fuck's sake Chris, turn on your goddamned phone, you technologically inept ass." Straight to voicemail. Again. And Peter's phone was running out of juice, just like he was running out of fuel. He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, since he first found Jeremy in this hell hole. His focus was now on making sure his mate was still alive. Deucalion had informed him that Jeremy was convinced he had killed Chris in a fire, and the thought made Peter beyond worried. (Or, well, worried in a way that only a sociopath of his nature would be able to understand.) He was irritable -- pissed, exhausted, and hungry as all fuck, and all he wanted was to bring Chris back to his son to prove that everything was all right. And maybe kill them all after. "That's fucked up," Peter thought aloud, brow furrowing. Fucked up, yes, but entirely true. The sort of hunger Peter was feeling was easily identifiable. He had been controlled by the moon before, and he knew that's precisely what this was. With a sigh, he leaned against a tree and took off his jacket, taking the time to fold it neatly, soon followed by every other article of clothing he was wearing. Fortunately for him, he was separated from the rest of the town enough that, hopefully, he wouldn't hurt anyone. There wouldn't be another Laura in his family. After the (fucking painful) shift, the black fur on Peter's back bristled, and he shook. There was a sort of calm about him -- a terrifying calm. One that suggested that nothing about him was calm at all.
-- BURN. Deucalion woke with that exact word, ringing over and over in his head like an obnoxious alarm he couldn't turn off. All three dogs snapped to attention as he jumped out of the bed and into the hallway. Stumbling. Making his way to the door just so that he could breath. BURN. Outside was no better. Aside from the people involved in these little games, the town was entirely dead. Abandoned. No one walked these streets. Deucalion should have been glad about that, because he most certainly recognized what was happening. BURN IT ALL. Was Jeremy still inside? He couldn't remember. Knowing him, probably not. He was probably out. It both excited and repulsed the alpha to realize that he wanted nothing more than to bite and maim him. NOTHING WILL REMAIN. He howled in vain. When was the last time he had seen his pack? When was the last time they had even identified as a pack? No one would come to him. Not now. If the full moon was doing this to him, he wondered what it was doing to them. NO ONE WILL SURVIVE. The shift was the most painful one he had experienced. His vision went black, and Deucalion was worried it might be the same way throughout the entire full moon. But the moment he had completed the transformation, his vision returned to red -- and he was off, paws beating against the ground as he ran. He'd never felt this freedom before. At the same time, however, he'd never felt the need to personally kill everyone. BURN IT ALL.
-- Vincente hadn't exactly been in his right mind when he shifted. He could feel the madness settling in from a mile away. Considering how it took his thoughts off his brother, he didn't fight it. (Not that he could if he wanted to, of course.) But even now, he knew that his back wasn't supposed to violently snap in the way that it did. Worry split through his body for a second before it faded into something Vincente easily recognized. Hunger. His bones continued to crack, body shifting underneath the moonlight. The world fell into a crimson haze by the time his paws pressed steadily against the ashy ground beneath him. He sniffed -- but was still unable to find anything in the air but smoke.
-- I can't fight this.
I want to play a game.
Good evening, Vincente. As you can see, you’ve lost. You weren’t strong enough, and Deucalion has caught up. He has your brother, Vincente. I’m sure you don’t want to deal with this, but I’m going to tell you the only way to get out of here. Kill Nicolas, and you’ll leave. Don’t, and Deucalion will kill him — then you’ll be stuck here, with your brother and the man who killed him. For an eternity. You have no weapons. You must do this with your bare hands. Do it, and I’ll let you leave.