Ascension
It had begun.
It all started with a simple inquiry, a desire for entertainment. A chance meeting between the Inquisitor and the Faceless. A deep-seeded craving for bloodshed and she had given in.
"A hunt. A feast. Perhaps a chase? Or maybe even a butchering, at the least.” The poisoned words had crept from the ventilator of his mask, giving her that last push she needed to finally give in to the calling that echoed within.
"Have you a place in mind that wouldn't draw unnecessary attention to our location?" Forever the one to worry about the organization and keeping a low profile, the Inquisitor leveled her darkening gaze upon the Shadow. Much like her, Duraxxor knew the benefits of keeping out of the public eye and maintaining control of the situation at all times.
"If you wish to hunt... Then meet me south of the Alliance post of Chillwind Pass. I'll give you less than an hour to prepare." Elamiah needed less than that to take care of what was required, and arrived not long after he did. Taking up a position out of sight, the Fury released the hold she had on the monster within and began to let it take control of her. It began to mend the modesty and need for subtlety with a gnashing of its sharpened teeth, a feeling of pure ecstasy cascading through her entire body. And then, there it was. A melody. A sensual lullaby that called to her from one of the heartbeats a few yards away, cowering inside one of the rotting buildings.
It was a blur. A sadistic, kaleidoscope of colors painted the sky as blood and sinew flew in heaps from their pathway. Monsters clashed against their prey with little remorse and only the scent of blood urging them on. Until she found him. That one, poor soul that called out to her for redemption. How naughty and cruel he had been; so treacherous and deceitful. The Inquisitor was happy to break him and in doing so, would sanctify the blade she had been gifted with by her creator.
Darkness began to wrap about her frame, onyx zigzags began to form a beautiful canvas upon what flesh he could see. It was as if it were tracing her veins, embedding itself fully into her body. Head reared back, lips parting to allow forth, a monstrous howl into the shadows of the night. The howl subsided soon after, a velvety sheen of shadow beginning to conceal her form from view. Reaching out, the sword immediately dislodged itself and came to rest within her grasp. Further glimpse was given to the evidence of their presence; it was a shriveled husk, no good to anyone who practiced the arts within Panzer. Stepping forward, the hem of her robe came into contact with the body. And soon, it began to dry out further until nothing remained but a charred outline. Dissipated into nothingness. With a shift of her arm, the blade was replaced where it was supposed to be, fully sated and humming with life. Lips parted to speak, the tips of ivory canines seen from between plush tiers. "Let us make quick work of what remains. And keep count, I'll be competing."
She was a mess of blood stains and gore, triggered by the sheer amount of bliss and freedom she felt in those moments of ascension. It was a rumble in her chest, a growl that came from deep inside, filled with pleasure. She had succeeded. She had given Him what He wanted. She had become a weapon of mass destruction.
The Monster had been born.