#bohevent

[deucalionhuios]

I don't know. It seems that, this time, I'm at a loss.

[loadedxgun]

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.

[louischevalier]

-- Being locked indoors was a good plan for tonight after all.

[bluexeyedxjudas]

"-- 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.

[deucalionhuios]

-- 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.

[vincenteacosta]

-- 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.

[vincenteacosta]

-- I can't fight this.

[vincenteacosta]

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.

The panic that gripped Vincente was not one he would take lightly. In fact, it was not one he would take at all. The pull at his limbs to fight was too strong to ignore, and without even glancing at his brother -- he lunged. He sank his claws into Deucalion, bit into him, tried to tear him apart, but the alpha wasted no time in throwing him out. Hitting the ground with a violent thud, Vincente could feel his bones cracking underneath the weight of his body. The air got knocked out of him. And still, fighting for breath was somehow easier than fighting to survive without Nicolas a second time. I wouldn't do that again, Vincente. Go against the rules a second time, and you won't like the outcome. "Fuck you!" He rolled onto his side, sitting up to take a look at Deucalion and Nicolas. While his brother stood still, the alpha of alphas did not. He actively watched Vincente, eyes glowing red behind protective sunglasses -- which Vincente wasn't sure why he wore anymore. The asshole could see now. You woke him up. It started off as a game, but now that you woke him up, it's a reality. You've got a time limit to make your choice. I'll give you -- five minutes. That should be enough to decide whether or not you want to kill your brother, don't you think? Even though Vincente had found it in him to breathe again, getting air into his lungs was difficult. If this had been an illusion -- if Deucalion had been "awakened" and was now active because Vincente attacked him -- that meant that the same would happen to his brother. His eyes darted back and forth between the two -- watching as Deucalion straightened his shoulders and inched closer to Nicolas, who did nothing to move away. The tightness in his throat wouldn't go away, no matter how many times he swallowed. He felt as if he may vomit at any moment. Just as he was informed that he had two minutes left to make a decision, he stood up. The moment he took his brother into his arms, Nicolas seemed to come to life. He said something, but through Vincente's heart pounding in his ears, it went unheard. Silenced. As if the words hadn't existed at all. For a few moments, Vincente struggled to breathe, taking in shallow breaths and rushing them out so that he could fill his lungs with air once again. The panic that filled him was too intense to ignore. "I would never hurt you," he said. "I'll find a way out of this." He ran one hand through Nicolas's hair, used the other to cup his chin. Vincente took in the sight of his brother -- realized, not for the first time, that Nicolas had been gifted with the sort of beauty Vincente himself would never have. With a sigh, he pressed his lips against Nicolas's cheek. "I love you." And, in one quick movement, the young Acosta brother's neck twisted violently and snapped. The two sank together, Vincente holding onto his brother's body even after their knees hit the floor. He gripped tightly, cried into Nicolas's shirt until the fabric was wet with his tears. Deucalion's shadow loomed over them for the longest time, and Vincente wanted to kill him -- wanted to kill himself for what he had done. He hoped that Nicolas had believed him when he said he would find a way out of this. He hoped that his last memory of Vincente was a man of strength. When Deucalion's shadow faded, so too did Nicolas, and Vincente was left sitting with nothing to hold in his empty arms. The walls around him collapsed into nothingness, and his mourning for his brother echoed into the streets of Beacon Hills. The silence and emptiness of the place didn't seem to bother him. In fact, Vincente felt as if it fit the situation perfectly.