Warnings: yandere, mention of murders, persecution, obsession, possession, description of something unpleasant, somnophilia, non-consensual sex, mention of impregnation, smut.
Heavy hips rose and fell carefully, trying to contain the desire to speed up the pace, but he couldn’t do that otherwise his owner would wake up and then his plan wouldn’t work.
The Astartes bit his lip, clutching the sheet with his hands, suppressing moans and sobs full of lust.
He couldn't risk this chance to finally get what he had wanted for a long time.
The sheets beneath him became damp and covered in a sticky whitish liquid - a symbol of his love and devotion to his human.
He had never wanted it so much with anyone other than his human. He had purposefully rejected other Astartes even when in heat. His netro yearned for his true mate.
Unable to contain the last impulse, a deeper groan escaped from his throat, and a new portion of semen covered the sleeping human's stomach, but even this noise did not wake him. The Space Marine chuckled. This was the result he was looking for, the sleeping pill was working, that was a good sign.
Having cleaned up a bit and hidden the traces of his crime, he curled up around his man, purring like a contented, well-fed cat.
He buried his nose in his human's hair, closing his eyes and already imagining his master's surprise when the Marilenlings were born in a couple of months.
Art belongs to this author: @vthestalker
And thanks again for this to my best assistant in the world)
Привет, работяги! Я вернулась из недолговременного тильта. Настроения писать и рисовать не было (ибо университет и подработка - две вещи, убивающие с полной силой). Сегодня я вас порадую двумя артами для @littledarknesgold . Позже я сюда выставлю маленькую порнографию с Артёмом и Анной (да, уменя авуляция, а что вы мне сделаете, я в России). Надеюсь, у вас хорошее настроение , и вы приятно проводите время! До новых встреч!
Hey, workers! I'm back from a brief tilt. I wasn't in the mood to write or sketch (since university and a part-time job are two things that really kill you). Today I'll delight you with two pieces of art for @littledarknesgold . Later, I'll post a little pornography with Artyom and Anna (yes, I'm ovulating, and what can you do to me, I'm in Russia). I hope you're in a good mood and having a good time! Until next time!
TW // Smut, Tentacles, Things Where It Shouldn’t Be, Crossing Humane Boundaries.
|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| {Set Validity}
You’re not quite sure how you got an appendage stuck down your throat with your hands grasping up at Blasius like your life depended on it. You were just trying to move about your own house in the kitchen. Trying to find something to make, swaying your hips then bam! You're suddenly laid back on your own counter with your legs spread open for a certain, bulky marine to take place like he does fit. His armor body completely leaning over yours as the openings in his armor give a squelching sound. The ceramite pieces moving up and down in a breathing-like pattern, telling you that he is not what he seems like from very up close.
“Blasius.” You breathe and talk when you can. Without feeling his tentacles go beyond the humane boundaries of the back of your mouth and down your throat. Feeling like he was searching for something inside of you; trying to push himself further down (without hurting you of course). You were grateful when… throatfucking? With Blasius as you’ve practically trained yourself not to gag at his peculiar actions. His actions that were claimed to be more brutal than what you have read in the books and seen in a couple of movies…
In all honesty? You didn’t think it was too bad. To be… tentacle fucked by the Death Guard. To feel how he could reach places no other sexually active man could, but like a… a doctor could… It was strange, but not bad at all. Pleasurable really. There really wasn’t a time you felt like shit in the morning or at nights or the next… day? Or was it weeks? Either way, you felt too numb and tingly inside to even feel and think about the possible pain he could bring you. If you think he did, you’re pretty sure he would succumb to a lowly puddle as his goal was not to make you feel bad at all. He wants you happy with possible kin growing inside of you.
He creates this… slime around his mass? When he goes to town with you, lathering you with it. It’s nothing harmful sexually or even normally. More like it was just a type of… saliva lobs? Acts like a lubricant and scent marker more or so, but he only produces it when he thinks he’s going to get hot and heavy with you like right now. The joint's of his armor is starting to get slick and drip down onto your clothing. More tentacles coming out to rub the strange slime into your clothing and wrap himself around you the more he can stick and shove his tentacles inside of you, very eager to stuff you with everything he can.
He rumbles down at you, saying the only thing he knows how to speak. “Nest Mother, Nest Mother, Nest Mother.” His words only increasing repetitions when he can smell and feel you weaking beneath him; slowly submitting to his ways of trying to mate with you. He knows immediately what makes you tick. What makes you scream and squirm, and he absolutely loves it. Loves to make you feel overstimulated and at his mercy. He is just doing so well! Isn’t he? Oh, he is! Look at your tearful eyes! Your body is restricting around him too! Let him take care of you like this every day, yes? Yet, he knows you like your independency…
Though, that doesn’t stop him from trying to put a baby inside of you. From anywhere he can: stomach (god damn Xenomorph,) womb, ovary’s, urethra(male.) He will have his damn dream of filling up a nest with his own, blooded kin one way or another. Even at the cost of talking to a Thousand Son to somehow up his chances. Perhaps, he can learn a thing or two from them too.
However, right now he’s just focused on the tight heat of your mouth. How your muscles still pulse with warmth when he’s so far down, nearly going past your diaphragm. His tentacle a bit curled and constricting as he makes sure you can still breathe out of your nose so he can continuously explore the anatomy of a female human. He had too many calls where you have passed out on him, and he gets really sad, and whimpers about it. Believing that he immediately becomes a bad mate towards you for his instinctual actions.
You can feel how everything curls inside of you though. It doesn’t hurt, just… strange. It feels evasive, but it’s gentle. It confuses your brain just a bit. Should it push; throw up this foreign thing out of you? Should it not? You seem to like this thing down you a lot… You’re still taking his tentacles either way. He won’t mind the acid in your stomach. Hell, he eats people. You're the most delicious thing he will tenticalfuck. Anything that tastes of you is better compared to what the grandfathers' brews.
You groan as a squelch sounds out between your saliva coated lips. The tentacles deep in your throat showing no mercy, testing your own limits. Your hands patting Blasius armor that was- is practically curled around you: your hands patting him 3 times. Your senses a bit overwhelmed whenever he tries to push the limits of humanoid you.
He rumbles lowly in response, but ever slowly and purposefully drags his own tentacle out of your throat, mouth then back into his mass with swirly motions. A rather excessive amount of your own saliva and his slime still connecting to two of you by the bottom of your lips and his moving mass beneath his armor. It truthfully should have felt disgusting, sinful, but something in your mind just… blocks those thoughts. You find nothing wrong, nothing dirty about taking in this very much inhumane creature before you with the lower half of his armor trying to rut up into you between your legs.
“Oh, Blasius.” You sigh his name, leaning your back down a bit on the cold counter. A shiver going through your body as your legs try to move around his mass and hook around him, and you do, in a way. Your legs ending up under his armor and squeezing slightly at his mass. The slime of him, and the internal heat of him more sensible there while you can feel his armor cover your legs as well. His gauntlets, full of gleaming tentacles exploring the side of you for a second before he seems to get impatient at your show of submission. What he perceives as submission: lowered forms, rears up and even just laying down. His gauntlets squeezing at your hips, trying to pull you as close as possible. Trying to engulf you with only him.
He rumbles again at you, his shifting helmet looking you up and down like he was asking you off something. He may be impatient, but at least he was asking for permission now rather than before, taking you as he likes. Taking you every time you were already pleasing yourself. Your mind in a blissed state to let him take you then. Yet, over time he has learned to take well, sometimes take foreplay and permission into consideration. Mostly when you seem frustrated; possibly angry at him.
His tentacles swarm around you, spreading that slime all over you. Some appendages slowly slipping up the arm holes of your shirt, bottom of your shirt, the legs holes of your pants, zipper, and waistline. Leaving nothing untouched by him. A low coo coming from him when he finds your heat between your legs. His tentacle automatically dipping between your folds, slowly going up and down, testing you. Feeling how ready you are for him. How wet you are for him.
He can hear you sigh contentedly at him. Feeling how you gently roll your hips back into him, accepting of his actions of mating with you. A sweet, quiet purr leaving him as he moves the tentacle against your entrance to push and curl inside of your pulsing walls. Loving how you mewl out and arch your back for him. His tentacles in your shirt taking immediate attention to wrap around you, trailing down your spine before coming back around to settle on the underside of your breasts, pulling your upper body up a bit closer to his curling form. He was just practically holding you just by himself rather the kitchen counter he placed you on.
He, however, is not much for pleasure himself. Don’t get him wrong, he’ll breed you and keep you warm on his tentacles for weeks if he was in his season, and out of it. He just likes to swim in your pleasure. He can smell your arousal after all, feel it too when he curls his tentacle inside of you just right. Another mewl and a bit of a ramble leaving your lips he violated just moments ago. Your sweet sounds practically praising him as a good mate the more he explores deeper inside of you. The tip of his appendage gently licking at your cervix, preparing you for him just to go a bit deeper than no human man could.
Tilting his helmet, he gently nuzzles against your slime covered collarbone to try and calm you as he felt your body shutter at the sudden touch to your cervix. Again, to you, it didn’t feel painful at all to you, just strange and definitely felt far better than going to the doctors when they have to check you down there with their metal, cold tools. He was a far better candidate to check you… That is if he wasn’t trying to breed you all the time.
He waits until you nuzzle into his helmet, your own little sounds of whimpering coos escaping you, and he finds it absolutely adorable. His appendage inside of you gently squirming against your cervix, trying to get through to your womb when he would have the most success in trying to fertilize you. His tentacle giving a few more wiggles and pops through. Your body shuttering and going limp violently around him, and he thrills at you. Nuzzling back into you, keeping you close while he holds still within you. Waiting just a bit to stuff your little womb full of him.
He may finish; breed you quickly, but not with you feeling like pure jello in the morning. Your body unable to walk for at least half the day, stuck with a very prideful Death Guard that has cleaned himself up quite nicely, but he left you covered in a layer of his slime. His helmet always cooing down at you while his gauntlets keep you down on the bed. Revoking you of your rights to be independent. Actually growling at you when you continue to ignore his clear demand of staying in bed. Not to take a shower that would wash off what keeps you fine and dandy, smelling like him. He figured that one quick…
Warnings: yandere, mention of murders, persecution, obsession, possession, mention of torture, mention of violence.
(A quick word of advice for all Space Marine owners: you don't want to come back for days with the scent of another Astartes on you, especially if you have a somewhat jealous companion.)
The massive heavy door creaked as it opened and the small human prisoner was blinded by the light coming from outside.
However, this did not last long and the door slammed shut again behind the back of the Brother-Interrogator who had entered.
The man tied to the floor cringed at the sound of the Dark Angel's rattling sabatuns. The owner had known him for many years, this Brother-interrogator he had never even allowed the thought that his mate, his companion, could do something like that.
The Astartes leaned over the prisoner, his seemingly clumsy fingers stroking the man's hair with loving care.
The poor guy no longer screamed, did not demand answers, did not try to argue or reason with his Dark Angel, because it was pointless, nothing would change.
The Space Marine kept his eyes on his man and took the whip off his belt. He never thought his human would need such harsh discipline, but in the end, he helps his man repent and then they will begin to live as they should have long ago.
Away from all those boring humans distracting his human, away from the other Astartes who seemed to him to always be trying to steal his human.
He had been planning for a long time how it would be just the two of them. Just him and his human.
Blasius slowly turns his head to the side from his crouched position. His mouth opening for a better scent thread as he sniffs the air heavily and chuffs.
So soon? He shakes his head, rising from his crouched position. Casting a shadow over the broken body below him. Such an eager little mate.
Glancing back down at the mauled body. Blasius brings forth an main appendage between his armor plates and licks the warm crimson staining his gauntlet. Savoring how rotten it tasted. Something he had almost forgotten about. How atrocious some could be, hopeless and decaying.
Something his little mate was not. Unlike this waste of flesh below him, unable to bring his little mate what she wanted. What she craved for. He can see it in her eyes, in her scent. How could this one not?
He was ignorant of course, too witless to acknowledge her effort. Too endorsed in his time running away from the nest and coming back smelling like another. His little mate was distressed when she figured out what he was doing. Yet, she still believed that he had some “good” left in him. Putting more of her dedication to prove that she was the worthy mate, when it was the other way around.
This false male was the unworthy one of breathing in the same air as his little mate. Undeserving of her attention, her love, her gifts and lingering touches of her commission of fidelity. It drove him crazy that she wasn’t paying attention to him as she poured her devotion into this male who uses her as a side trophy.
He wanted to give his little mate all that he had to offer. He wanted to return that love and attention she put on that failure of a human. He wanted to gift her all the things she found an interest in, but never acted upon it. Craving for that male to gift it to her, to acknowledge her. He wanted to provide what the male would not, could not.
It was no secret this man was a disappointment to any female that he encounters. He can hear the difference between the real and the fake moan’s his little mate does when they are coupled together or how his little mate has to take care of herself afterwards. Having yet to climax herself, but the male was also a disappointment by being infertile. Not that his little mate knows of that.
It is one of the reasons she has gotten a toy however, to sedate her ever growing desires. To finally have something to finish her off and at first, he wanted to rip the toy to shreds. Watch it decay beneath his fingertips, but he stops mid-way of finding the silicone cock in her closet. Realizing this singular tool has had a lot more to it than just for making his little mate climax on it.
So, he puts it back in its place where he found it. Leaving it to his little mates next use.
Blasius hums deeply as the appendix of the open body below him bursts, a quiet wheeze coming out of the mouth of the body as it splatters against his greaves. A mix of puss and blood inching down his armor to his sabatons. Another appendage coming out between his plating near his knee to clean up the mess the weak, organic body had made.
He uses another main appendage to reach inside the cut opening in the males body, pushing underneath his sternum and ribs, providing wet sounds and a squelch each time the appendage slips underneath another rib. Reaching the top of the body’s rib cage, he digs the appendage downwards between the lungs and wraps around the windpipe and tugs. A sickening squelch-like pop sounding out.
Pulling his appendage back to him. He wraps the rest of his appendage around the organ and lifts it up to his face, observing it. Sniffing it before he rumbles lowly in refusal. Whipping the rotten lung away with his appendage. Hearing it splat somewhere else.
That was not something he would preferably eat. Healthy organs are the better route of eating, they taste better. Saccharine even. They envelop the tongue like thick wine. Not that he found eating humans was a satisfactory, just a tasteful treat. He found far better sweets in this world to sedate his hunger than he would in his own world, but that rotted lung wouldn't give him the treat he was looking for.
Perhaps, his liver would work better? They were always far cleaner than the rest of the body’s he’s taken a snack on before. Maybe a little bitter with their alcohol consumption, but that doesn't deter him, he’s had worse before. If anything, that marinates more flavor into the organ.
Sliding his appendage between the body’s ribs and organs again. Wet sounds followed while he wraps his appendage around the liver twice. Pushing the other organs aside and over the opening of his torso and stomach. Feeling how the male's organs still pulsed with life. His dull eyes still staring up at his figure. A mule this one was.
With a particularly harsh tug, the body’s liver popped out with a sickening crack of his rips flying apart. His sternum breaking in half as bone shards littered inside and outside of the blood spewing body. The dirt drinking up the body’s lifeline like desert sands would do to water.
Blasius purrs quietly, approving of this body’s liver as he sniffs it. His mouth opening to wrap his tongue around the organ and lay it in his mouth before squeezing it with his tongue. Feeling it pop in his mouth and splatter before he chews, savoring the taste and the memory’s it came with it.
At least, the memories with his little mate in them. Ranging from how sweet his little mate was and how remarkable she was. Offering her food, her home to this male. Never blowing up on him when she clearly wanted to. Some of the many things that he hates the male for, but that was not a matter anymore.
Nurgle, and the intercourses with her. He knows he could have done way better than this male, but to envision her nude and submissive before him? His appendages began to salivate, including his mouth.
The things he would love to do to her.
Her scent wafts over him as he swallows hard. Shivering as his appendages become eager, desiring, and aching. Pushing up against his armor almost painfully. Telling him he wasn’t actually envisioning her scent of her arousal at all. This was real.
He takes a step away from the mutated body, not looking back as his appendages inside of him twitch in anticipation. Those wild packs of wolves that roam around here should eat the rest of the body up like nothing by tomorrow's dusk. Leaving absolutely no trace of him to be found.
Blasius uses his appendages to clean the rest of his armor off to temporarily relieve their eagerness to come out while he slowly follows his little mates arousal back to her nest. He knows has some time to get there before she climaxes and he must be presentable to his little mate after all. He knows how… unnerving he could look.
He hears her soft moans before he even enters into the nest. His senses heightened to seek her out through her strong arousal that begged him to fill his little mate as he inhales deeply, leaning down through the front door.
Nurgle, he is here little mate. He is here to provide. Let him provide for you.
He hears her cry out in ecstasy and that makes him move a bit faster through the house. Holding his breath as he moves swiftly between furniture. Quickly, opening the door and lean down through it to his little mates nesting spot.
The first thing he sees is her riding the false cock up and down into her core at a fast pace. Her skin glistening with sweat at all the effort to make herself climax. Her heated breaths staining her own skin as she moans out again, closing her eyes and throwing her head back.
He rumbles quietly and takes side steps into the grounds of his little mates nest. Watching as she chased that high. Kneeling down to the ground in front of her bed. Observing how her folds fluttered around the cock. Her muscles constricting around it as she cried out. Her juices leaking down the cock.
Yet, she doesn’t turn on the toy? Isn’t that what it was for? To fill her up her womb? Isn’t that what she wanted?
So, he turns on the toy instead, a gasp escaping his little mate as the toy pumps his cum into her. Selection by selection, until there was nothing left in the toy.
Unfortunate, no worries. He has more to provide.
She makes a move to get up from the false cock, but he growls. His appendages coming out, spooking his little mate as he takes her by the hip and pushes her back down on the fake cock. Watching as she squirms on it, his cum leaking around the edges from her hole and down the false cock.
He didn’t get drug from that questionable Ultramarine for no reason.
She whines at him, and as much as he would love to hear her cry out to him. He sticks an enthusiastic appendage down her throat. Silencing her cry’s as he shoves moves her shifting hips back down onto the false cock again.
Shhh, little mate. Let me take care of you. Your… partner won’t be around anytime soon to please your needs like I will. To caress your skin like I will. To protect you like I will. To provide to you like I will.
Warnings: Yandere, Obsessive, Possessive, Possessive behaviour, Mention of blood, Mention of infanticide
The small bundle in his arms barely moved as he took it into his large, armored hands.
The fabric had slipped slightly, revealing the sleeping face of a newborn who had recently been screaming loudly, causing his human to fuss around his cradle.
This crying was driving him crazy, he wanted to shut up this little loud throat, it would not be difficult, but it would make his human cry and get upset.
Stupid, stupid his human, why does he worry so much about something so useless and pathetic like this baby when he has him? Isn't he better than this ugly, demanding little larva? He's better than this in every way.
Oh! His poor, narrow-minded human simply hasn't realized it yet, but there's nothing to worry about, he'll take care of everything and then his human will see.
A wet, soft crunch filled the nursery. The previously soft-colored blanket in which this was wrapped had turned crimson.
The previously moving lump in the blanket fell silent...forever.
As if nothing had happened, he wrapped what was left of the newborn back in his blanket, rocking the bundle soothingly so as not to attract the attention of his human. He slipped out of the nursery and then out of the apartment with silent steps.
He had long ago noticed a quiet place in the park where his human used to often walk...so it was time to add some fertilizer to the soil.
Всем хорошего времени дня! Буду присылать сюда свои арты для @littledarknesgold по 2–3 штуки. Так вы сможете внимательнее рассмотреть мои рисунки, а заодно и познакомиться с моим творчеством. Буду публиковать от самых старых до самых новых. Приятного просмотра!
Have a great day everyone! I'll be sending you my art for @littledarknesgold here, 2-3 at a time. This way, you'll be able to take a closer look at my drawings and get to know my work better. I'll be posting them from oldest to newest. Enjoy!
His breath is broken; labored. He’s been running from the unknown in this damn foggy ass forest for so long that he’s unsure he could get out of it. He had lost his way a long time ago; that part was something he couldn't ignore. It feels like hes been in this forest for ages, when in reality it could have been only a couple hours. He hasn't slept, that means the day didn’t pass, right? …Where was his group? He was with a group of people he trusted with his life beforehand. He can't even find them anymore. They were close together, knowing how dangerous a foggy forest filled with things of shadows could be. Now there is nothing of them, no trace as if they had abandoned him. He definitely felt like it too: abandoned by his own brethren and sisters.
No, he can’t afford to even think right now. He knows something is pursuing him. Something smaller then huge, he's unsure. The… aura keeps shifting around him from all of his hairs on his body rising quickly up to the area feeling a lot more colder despite all of his running to keep him heated. It was… it was unusual. It feels otherworldly. Was he just getting hunted by two things or just one? Was he just imagining it with the shadows that move within the fog? He has to be. Nothing moves so quickly within the shadows like a damn phantom. He doesn't believe in ghosts!
He inhales, pausing his run to try and leave the accursed forest that looks like something out of a spooky horror movie: winding, leafless branches trying to block out the moon. The dead patches of grass here and there: creating puddles of mud. The thick fog that makes you think there is something with you, and maybe there is, for him. No, he knows there is, but he just can’t see it. He’s… he’s unable to. He doesn’t have… he doesn’t have something. He is not some apex predator like the thing hunting him.
His skin prickles at the coldness of the dark, twitching at the slightest sound. His eyes trying to see through the thickness of the fog and the night that’s only luminous by the moon. He swears he can see something small, human-sized before it’s replaced by a bigger figure a few feet away in the grayish fog, he swears it. Was this smaller figure running too? Was it a possible squad mate? If it was… he wasn’t keen on retracing his steps to just see if it was a squad mate or not. A coward he maybe called, but he really didn’t want to die to somebody else’s choices, even if it was his own.
Something snaps, echoing through the forest, and he immediately jumps back into action, not wasting his time. His legs carrying him in a direction, in any direction to get him to feel safe. He doesn’t care where at the moment. Not like he knows where he is, but he is afraid. He didn’t think he would die so soon. The age 37 didn’t play well in his heart nor mind to die at as he wished he could live until he was over a hundred. He wished he didn’t criticize the old for wanting to live that long when there was beauty left in the world he has never gotten access to see. He wished he was back a few hours ago, laughing with his squad mates. He wished he was back into the protection of his guardians.
He just fucking wishes he wasn’t in this damn spooky forest!
He lets out a quiet, dreading whimper while his own thoughts consume him for a moment. His boots thudding rhythmically; harshly into the ground. The metal decorations of his gear slightly giving a tink with each exhausting movement he does in order to keep his instincts alive. His head pounding way too fast, too loud in his head. He wants everything to stop! He doesn’t like this long feeling of fear draping over his shoulders, taunting him! Laughing at him! Urging him to—
The man yelps, falling to the ground, faceplating into the cold mud he had slipped on. The whole front of his gear and body now covered in the cold slick of the earth. His lips quivering as he looks up to the moon with glossy eyes and heaving breaths. The shine of the moon rays revealing an abandoned truck, troubled with vines and flora off to the left side of him, and he wonders… Maybe… the moon would lead him to safety? It’s the only thing that’s been helpful to him since he’s been in this damned forest of fear. Leading him to god knows where, but he follows the damn light like a kid running away with sugar they are not supposed to have.
Despite his belief of the moon saving him. He quietly whines to himself in frustration and dread. His hands grasping tightly at the mud that goes between his fingers with a squelch while he shimmy’s himself underneath the truck, taking it as a temporary safe haven until morning. If he can make it that far. His own heart is still pounding in his own ears while he tries to quiet down his whimpering breath. God! This forest is a fucking death trap! How was he supposed to get out?! Would he even get out at all? Was that possible at this point? Should he give up?
No, he’s gotten this far—
His breathing stutters in his own lungs and stops. A whole new fear washing over him. His eyes staring at the boots that stand next to the truck, giving a little squish sound as this person shifts their weight. They were a bit small to be a male, and they seemed light, trying to be stealthy. Was this a squad mate of his? It can’t be, could it? No, they weren’t hiding like he was. They seemed more confident in their abilities… Were they… the hunter? Was this the person hunting him? This is what he was afraid of? A singular being?
Something cracks through the area again then, a low, rumbling growl as he closes his eyes briefly, expecting to be hit before slowly opening them again. It’s a warning call it sounds like, and the man takes quick note of how the persons boots… twitch at the sounds before quickly moving away, back into the shadows of the forest. That was not the person he was— should be afraid of. Something bigger is out there. Something that has complete control over the surrounding area.
He waits with bated breaths. Shifting his body onto his back. Eyes flickering up and down the underside of the truck, taking in its rusted form. Trying to calm his racing heart so he could finally hear what kind of beast was around him. Hunting him. He hopes the thing would leave him alone, forget about him, at least till the morning when he could see better. Maybe he could please the thing by giving it more of a challenge—
He lets out a scream. The truck he was hiding under was picked up and thrown away with ease. A cloud of rust eloping him, stinging his fearing eyes as he can hear the scrapped truck taking the trunks of tree’s down with a horrifying creak and rumbling thud that shook the ground. His form desperately scrabbling back with palms and boots; away from this– this dark creation of god! No, not even that. It wasn’t even a demon. This– this was something darker, something that a god didn’t– couldn’t create. This was– is a monster of pure evil. He was taught of these despicable creatures. They were not known for mercy, and he wasn't known to scream blood while the vibrant, red glare of the creature stares directly into his soul as if they were taking it out of him, collecting it for their own amusement while he chokes on his own battered body.
Perhaps… he should have never accepted the truth of these creatures. He should have stayed oblivious to their ways. Should have repented his hate as he wouldn’t be seeing the lifeless corpses up in the treetops, simply hanging there by their necks. Uselessly watching his own death come to play as if the dead knew all along that he would fall beneath their dull, blind eyes. It was a dangerous sign he realized before he took his last choking breath.
He dared to defy them and the creature would make him— them watch his death by their hand as they have died the same unfortunate fate.
