The car was twisted into an unrecognizable lump. And if you looked close enough, you might notice that the car was actually three cars twisted together. They had been innocent, elderly. She had been speeding along twenty over the limit, her breath smelled of booze. He was 16, taking his parents car for it’s first freedom ride. His Girlfriend had been fifteen. The drunken woman had seen a blur moving across the road right in front of the car and swerved to miss it at the same moment that the elderly woman had cried out about a monster in the road, and the same moment that the boy had thought he’d seen something dark dart in front of the car and swerved into the oncoming lane, hitting the elderly couple right as the woman’s car folded the two cars in half. Now they were laying over the dashboard, maybe the impact had killed them. Maybe the fear or injury made their hearts give out slowly. The fifteen year old was thrown from the car and might have lived if she’d not landed awkwardly on her neck. He was pinned between the smashed dashboard and the jammed door.

The three lamp posts nearest them had broken bulbs and the entire scene was cast into a looming darkness. The drunks had heared the sounds and come to investigate, heared unearthly sounds and fled the scene.

Verker sat in front of him, his back leaned against the bent up hood of the woman’s car, his legs stretched comfortably along the hood of the boy’s parent’s car, his feet hanging in the broken windshield. He had his hands folded on his stomach, his wings folded under his back, and his ankles crossed. His intense eyes glowed brilliantly in the darkness, his pale gray skin appearing to be marble statue quality. His lips were pressed together, his eyes gazing up at the stars. A red spot, half the size of the moon, Mars. It’s the closest it’s ever been to the earth. The demon’s long legs were covered in quality leather, clinging perfectly in the color of a pale, chalky black, making his skin look paler, grayer, and his nearly knee-length hair look all the blacker, all the more like silk. His toned and scared chest was covered by a black shirt that covered all of his back but scooped upward, baring his stomach and most of his chest. The sleeves clung to his arms, an inch and a half past the elbow and his ebony claws made stone feel brittle and weak. He was once described as a dark or ‘gothic’ beauty. He could still hold the title.

“will I.….die?” The voice was weak, scarcly there, but his sharp, pointed ears heard the words. He nodded.

“Yes.” His voice was deep, scratching and hissing and eerie. His tongue pronounced each word carefully, his accent otherworldly and just...Wrong in this language. It was obviously made to speak a different language, to make a different sort of sound. But somehow, it was soothing and drawing, calm and easy, the hissing being interpreted as a whisper, the whisper making every sound more intimite then it should be.

The boy, from which the question had come, shuddered, and his body jerked in reply. “I don’t want to die.”

“Everyone dies. It’s just a matter of when and how.”

“I don’t want to die like this. Now.”

“You haven’t got a choice.” The boys body was pinned, but the pressure of the dash was the only thing keeping him held together. Take the dash away and likely from chest down would fall off of his body.

“will,” he coughed and blood speckled his lower lip. “Will I go to heaven?”

“No. There is no such nonsense.”

“What will happen to me?”

“You’ll be forgotten. That is all.”

The boy coughed again, sobbed, and then wretched and coughed again. A trickle of blood ran down his chin. “I’ll be forgotten?”

“Yes. No one will remem...” Vyncyra Verkur didn’t finish the sentence. There would be no reason to continue, the boy had shuddered his last breath and lay his head down, his eyes wide. The last thing he’d ever see would be the beautiful face of the demon that caused his death, the pleased smile of individually sharp white teeth.

Verkur stood up, standing at nearly seven feet tall and looking for all the world, when he stretched out his leathered wings, like a statue of something horrible, and powerful, and perfect. He stepped off of the hood of the car, over the body of the woman, and began to walk down the street once more, pausing only for a moment at the payphone to dial 911.

“Officer, there’s an accident,” listening, smiling. “We may need an ambulance.” And he hung up and walked further through the street, turning a corner and continuing along the sidewalk, self satisfied and content.

The beast was on the prowl. Angry. Hateful. What was he out searching for tonight? A victim of course. He was hungry. He wanted to make someone hurt. He wanted to teach someone a lesson. The beast was not in his werewolf form. Not yet. He needed to find a victim first. He needed to find a bitch to teach a lesson to. A bitch to beat into submission and show her who the boss really was. So full of anger and hate it’s unreal. Hate and discontent. He was only content when he was teaching one of the many whores just who the boss really is.

And so it was. The bastard is out. Stalking. Searching. He smells blood and begins to follow the scent. He’s not paying a whole lot of attention to where he’s going. Tonight he is wearing tight black jeans and a tight black t-shirt. His usual black combat boots are on his feet. “Hey!” he exclaims as he suddenly bumps into someone. “Watch where the fuck you’re going asshole!”

((Sorry it’s short O.o Hope you don't mind me joining this :D))

That someone is four inches taller then a six foot four inch man. That's unusual to find. Vyncyra's unusual to run across. And bumping into him, by the way, is much like hitting a brick wall, regaurdless that he doesn't look so strong. After all, Azriel's favored form wasn't so strong in appearance. But he could squish your head with two fingers like a bug hitting the windsheild.

Vnycyra didn't move when the *ehem* boy shouted and swore at him. In fact, if he did anything, he shifted ever so slightly so that he was effectivly blocking his path and any further advancments unless the boy were to say walk around him. And then it's impossible to say that the demon would simply allow him to walk away.

Perhapes blood isn't all that Tino smells. Maybe the fresh scent of death. Maybe an older, more musty scent of death. This one so strong and so close one might think that it's coming from Vyncyra himself.

“Move your ass out of...” he began to say until he actually looked up at the one he had run into. “What the fuck are you?” he spat at the thing standing in front of him. “You’re in my way. I’ve got things to do.” Tino wasn’t in any mood tonight to be fucked with by some jackass who decided to get in his path. Yes. That’s how Tino looked at it. This fucktard had gotten in Tino’s path.

So, since the thing wouldn’t get out of his way, Tino started to walk around it. “Stupid fucker,” he muttered as he started to move around the thing that he didn’t yet know was a demon. He didn’t give a fuck at the moment. Yes. He could smell the fresh scent of death. It was what had brought him in this direction. The fresh scent of death, for Tino, rose above the older, more musty scent of death. Fresh death. Yes. That’s what Tino was after.

What the fuck are you?

Vyncyra just stood there. He would have said 'your worst nightmare' if he were into cheesy movie lines. But he was not into cheesy lines and he scarcly watched the small box of pictures that humans passed for entertainment.

But when the boy began to walk around him, Verkur unfolded the wing on that side to block the human's path. No. Not a human. He smelled, practically reaked of lycanthrope, wolf. My what a wing spand, so long that when folded they were the length of Vyncyra's body, save that they did not touch the ground and extended slightly over his head. And they were textured like leather. The reak of death spilled from it and Verkur stepped to the side to block the boy's path once more, folding his wing.

"You should learn your place among the foodchain, Wolf." Wolf. Well, at least he hadn't called him just human right?

“Fuck off,” Tino muttered. “Stupid fuck.” Yes. He’d noted that the thing had called him ‘Wolf’. He went unfazed by it. At least for the moment. He would stew about it later. Right now, he was on a mission but this large jackass was in his way. He had noted the wings of the thing in front of him and, again, went unfazed by it. He just flat out didn’t give a shit.

“Fuck you,” he spat, literally, at the thing in front of him as he realized the thing was not going to let him past. He whipped around and started to head away in the other direction. He’d go find what he was looking for somewhere else then.

((Tino is one stupid fuck. Yus he is.))

Vyncyra reached out and grabbed Tino's shoulder with one hand that could have both wrapped entirly around a full grown man's thick neck and crushed the virtibre with little to no effort. His granite claws cut into flesh at the shoulder and chest where his grip let them lay against the werewolf's body.

A few months ago, Vyncyra hadn't even been allowed to do this, but negotiating with the God War (negotiating being trapping Viol in his own summon circle until he promised to manipulate his code) had made Vyncyra able to cause harm to those who were of the least innocence. This included rapists, torturers, usually other demons and some vampires, killers. And Tino, unfortunatly for him, happened to be two of those. And this allowed Verkur to lay hands on him, to bring harm to him, with little and/or no concequences.

Fuck you

Careful stupid werewolf boy. The last time someone said that to Vyncyra, he took it literally. And demon sex from Vyncyra's species was not kind. It would take mere seconds to kill Tino if Verkur were not carful. In fact, Verkur had nearly killed Alice (an angel with a possibly sturdier body then Tino's) the last time.

"Maybe later." Claws sunk deeper.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed as a clawed hand was suddenly on his shoulder and cutting into his flesh. “Get the fuck off me you god damn freak!” Tino was more than just two of the things listed. He was three of those if one really wants to get technical. Rapist. Torturer. Killer. Yes. And he took much pride in his own actions as well. He took pride in teaching those stupid whore’s just who was in charge.

“Don’t touch me you stupid fuck!” He felt the claws sinking deeper and attempted to pull himself away. It probably wouldn’t work cause Tino really was nothing compared to the demon. Of course, Tino didn’t have a clue in the world what he was dealing with at this time.

Tino's struggling would do nothing in the way of getting away. But it certinly compelled Vyncyra to sink his granite claws lower into the flesh, finally reaching to bone, a collar bone. Easily those stone quality claws could have sawn through the bone with the aid of Vyncyra's other world strength. But he did not. Not yet at least.

"Fuck fuck fuck." He whispered. Again, I reiterate, His voice did not belong in this world, or this galexy really, for that matter. Deep, scratching and hissing and eerie, his voice and his accent (if you will) was just wrong in this language. Enough to send shivers and heat. "Is that all you want? To fuck?"

Of course, Vyncyra has been on this earth long enough to know what the werewolf meant by 'fuck off' and 'fuck you' and 'what the fuck'. But he could make of it whatever he pleased.

Instead of letting the wolf go, the Demon pulled him closer to him, using the claws against bone to steer him with.

If it was someone else having claws dug into them as was being done to him right now, they would probably have screamed. However, being a werewolf, he doesn’t. Why? Because going through the changing process hurts like hell as well. He’s learned to ignore pain for the most part.

“Shut up,” he snarled through grit teeth as that voice spoke to him. He wouldn’t shiver. He wouldn’t flinch. No. Not Tino.


((Bad and short O.o My mind went blank for some reason there O.o))

"No." He replied flatly.

He was mildly disappointed that the werewolf wasn't screaming. Because his last victum hadn't satisfied him fully, hadn't screamed, only cried a little. Of course, that one had been in shock so he probably was overwhelmed with the pain or simply couldn't feel it. Human's had a way of numbing their minds when shock settled in.

How long before Tino's body begins to heal? Werewolves heal exceptionally fast, and it is his experiance that if there is something in the body, the body simply heals around it. Or at least, he's counting on it.

"You aren't innocent," he commented. It didn't matter if the werewolf understood this. It didn't matter at all. But it was important, what he said. Because innocent, he would have had to let go, but uninnocent, he can do as he pleases.

Tino had actually learned how to control how fast or slow his own body healed. It was all a matter of mind control. He was big into mind control. Why do you think he goes hurting women who are weaker than him. He’s all control thing for him. He likes being in control.

“So fucking what if I’m not innocent,” he stated. It wasn’t a question. “I’m sure you’re not so innocent yourself you fucking freak. Now get your fucking hand off me.”

"So fucking what," he mocked, his voice like acid but so calm and sweet toned that he could have been speaking to a lover, one that he really loved.

Vyncyra love? Now that's an image.

"So fucking this," and claws sliped through the werewolf's body slowly, painfully slowly. They slid in through his back, somewhere in his shoulder, the claws sliding around the heart, encircling it without actually touching it or the lung, though they knicked quiet a few major arteries on their way through. The tips just barely protruded through the front of his skin if he pushed his fingers a little into the wound, poking at but not tearing through the shirt.

Tino won't die. Bleed a lot, and if he doesn't heal himself soon after (or hopefully before) Vyncyra removes his claws he may bleed to much.

Okay. This hurt. This hurt quite a bit in all honesty. He didn’t scream though. No. Screaming was for the whore’s that he tortured. Yes. The whore’s were the little fucks that screamed. Not Tino. He did, however, gasp sharply. And yes. His body began to heal itself on its own without him telling it to do so or not.

“What the hell? What the fuck do you think you’re doing??”

"Enjoying myself," he replied. It was, after all, what he was doing. Even if he knew that wasn't what the werewolf was asking. He smiled his sharp toothed smile as he felt the werewolf's body begin to heal around his claws. Now he only needed to bid his time until the healing was entirly complete. And then more fun.

The gasp satisfied him very little. He wanted this one to cry out, to howl.

“You sick fuck,” he snarled, yes snarled, at the thing. Tino’s anger was rising. Not fear. Anger. Of course, it didn’t take a whole lot to anger Tino. When he was filled with too much anger, his body took charge of itself. Well, not so much his body as the beast that lived inside of him. The beast he had been cursed with.

Yes. I’m sure you’re thinking correctly. Tino’s body was now not only healing itself, but it began to change as well. Face started to elongate and long fangs appeared. Yes. You got it. The beast within is starting to come out. And he’s not even trying to stop it even though he can. Head suddenly whips around in an attempt to bite whatever of the thing is closest.

Vyncyra smiled as he could feel the other changing against him.

"Becoming a little furry?" He asked at the snapping face. He'd leaned back in such a way, Claws still sunken in the shoulder and the chest, that he could hold the werewolf leaning foward while he leaned back. Changing helped healing along. Usually someone terribly wounded would try to change on will, just to heal. Of course, many didn't have control of the beast either.

How many werewolves had Verkur tortured in his years on this earth?

"Come on, human," human because he was pointedly insulting the wolf, "you did not think that a mere puppy could possibly kill the demon of chaos." He said the title as if he owned it, not merely was it. Kill? Verkur can't die. Not on this earth. It's as if his body is frozen in time here, even as time moves on around it.

Tino never changed entirely into a wolf per say. No. He was one of those monsters that still walked on two feet. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t change entirely into wolf form. He did every so often but only if he had to chase down his prey. He was bigger than his human form. In two legged were form, Tino stands six foot eight inches tall. That’s a whole three inches taller than he usually is. He’s stronger in were form. Hence why he allowed for his body to change. Yes. Allowed.

A clawed hand reached up to swipe at the demon as it spoke. He didn’t give a damn what this thing was. All he knew was that he wanted it to get the hell away from him so he could carry on with his nightly mission.

He got swiped at, and he could have moved from the paw-hand, the claws. Possibly fast enough not to have been touched. But he didn't. He didn't even try. And why should he? If he can't die and honestly, with the matting of scars and what pain those must have inflicted over his body, coupled with the fact that Verkur didn't truely mind pain, why should he try to avoid it and waist his endless amount of energy?

Gashes apeared across his neck, one dragging through the mark on his neck that branded him to the God War. And where the gashes appeared the skin opened, but no blood came. The purple color inside each gash was veins, blood, but none of it poured forth. It didn't move at all. Just seemed like liqued that wouldn't move. But Tino, with his back to him, would not see this just yet.

Having healed entirly around his claws, Tino's body was now stuck on Vyncyra. But not for very long. The Demon wretched his wrist in a twisting motion, ripping through the muscle and tissue and veins, making a cirlce around the heart from inside and all the way through the body.

Tino, in were form, continued slashing towards the demon at anything he could reach. He didn’t stop to inspect his claws to see if there was blood or not. He didn’t care at the moment. All he cared about was getting away from this... this thing. Tino’s clothing had fallen to the ground. He was in complete were form. Not wolf form. Were form.

He howled, yes, howled in pain as the demon wretched his wrist in a twisting motion. This angered the were further and he began slashing and snapping at anything within his reach.

Oh this was fun!

When Tino howled Vyncyrathrew back his head and laughed, long and cold. It's the only word. Cold. It was hollow and menacing and cold. Cruel and didn't belong, even less so then his own voice belonged in this world. He didn't often laugh, usually a chuckle, so it would come as no suprise that the sound would give anyone chills because it literally seemed to make the air cold and staticy, though in reality it didn't.

"What's the matter wolf?" And with those words, as the wolf began thrashing his claws once more, Vynvyra twisted his wrist back the other direction. He'd left his other set of claws at Tino's shoulder, healed there.

No. This was not fun. Not fun in the least. At least, not for Tino.

He tried to turn his head to snarl and snap at the demon hurting him when it talked to him. He threw his head back and howled in pain yet again as the demon twisted his wrist again. The were began to thrash even more and tried to get away from it.

Vyncyra laughed again and he pulled those claws out of Tino's body, it looked like someone had taken a cookie cutter and simply put a hole through him, his heart just happened to be in the hole.

"Heal it up, Wolf." We'll see how easy it is for the body to heal one part if there is damage and pain being inflicted in the other part as well.

Vyncyra pushed the free claws into Tino's back now, a little lower. Did that just go through the stomach? They didn't protrude from the other side however because the demon had plunged them inward and downward through the torso.

It’s not easy. Not easy at all. His howling has become a horrible sound at this point. Almost, yes almost, a cry now. His body was in so much pain that it started to begin to shift back into human form. Okay. This couldn’t be a good thing. If he let himself shift back into human form, not only will the pain be just that much worse but he’ll be naked as well. That’s not a good thing at all. He tries to force himself to stay in were form. It’s really not an easy task to howl in pain, try to heal and try to prevent yourself from shifting back into human form.

Vyncrya was laughing still as he twisted his claws again. Of course, this was much different from having claws twist when they're straight through you. At this angle, he twisted his claws and cut through several organs, the kidney, the liver, and his stomach, not to mention everything in between those.

He felt the wolf begin to shift, laughed. "Does this hurt?" No. It feels like a feather light touch. Of course it's going to hurt. But just as he had to the boy in the car, Vyncyra was going to make this as unpleasent as possible.

Oh shit. Not the organs. Could the were heal those himself? I don’t know. He’s never been injured in such a way before. Hell, no one’s ever gotten a chance to injure him in such a way.

Of course it fucking hurts. His howling screams should tell the demon that. He can’t fight it anymore. He can’t fight the change. His body shifts entirely back into human form. The pain is too much to bear in this form. Blackness is trying to take hold.

“Stop...” he manages to choke out.

Yes. A were can heal anything actually (except decapitation or a stab or silver bullet to the heart or something like that). Lets say Vyncyra were to cut off his leg right now. If Tino were to change again into Were, he's suposed to get that leg back.

Stop.

"Stop? You ask me to stop? Do you stop when they yell stop?" Not that he cares about 'they'. He was not holding a naked man in his claws. The blood thrilled him and he pulled his claws out of the mans body as slowly as he could, causing more pain. And then he tore his claws from the shoulder, where they'd been healed into the man's body.

He let him fall to the ground. "Do you like when they scream? I do." And he moves in front of Tino, now the gashes, unbleeding, would be seen. The blood hovered at the edge of the blood vesles, purple and dark, but it didn't spill. It was like it really had been stopped in time.

What the hell? What is this guy talking about? Has it not sank in Tino? Obviously it hasn’t.

“Shut... up...” he hisses out through grit teeth as he sinks to the ground. He’s on his knees. Head begins to lift slightly and his eyes widen as he sees the gashes on the demon but no bleeding. His head falls forward towards his chest again.

“What... do... you... want...?”

Might he notice that the blood is definatly real, as it's wet on his hands were his claws had been. Purple demon blood. It feels exactly like real blood but while blood cools quickly, it should not be that cold by any means. Especially on such a warm night.

What... do... you... want...?

"To hear your screams. To taste your blood. To cause you chaos." And the hand that had been on Tino's shoulder comes away with blood. Vyncyra licks it away slowly, draging a purpleish tongue all the way to the tip of his claw. "Heal yourself, Human."

“Leave... me... alone...” he chokes out hoarsely. “I... I’ve... done... nothing... to... you...”

Heal himself? In as much pain as he’s in?

“I... can’t...”

Not right this minute anyway.

"Niether has most of the world," he replied and his lips curled into a cruel, feril smile that looked suspiciously like Alice's smile. "But what sort of a world would we be in if there was no chaos?"

He was kneling but he was nibble enough, and with his wings there his balance was so well, that he could kick out. His boot caught Tino in the chest, firmly but with only enough pressure to kick him backwards onto the sidewalk.

"Yes you can. Heal yourself."

He could hear the siren's of police, ambulances, far before a human, or even a wolf, with his ears. Now a human could hear it too.

He slams his teeth together to keep from crying out in pain as he’s shoved backwards and hits the sidewalk. Pain from the wounds in his back.

“And... if... I... don’t...” he hisses out.

Vyncyra grabbed his ankle and pulled him towards him until Tino's legs were under him and he was hovering over the human. "Then I will rape you. And if you do not die while I please myself, then you will bleed to death slowly."

He looked up as he heard the sirens nearing, going to the accident he himself had caused and called in. Sighing he opened his wings and grabbed Tino's ankle again.

His eyes widened and then narrowed into glaring slits as his body healed itself to the point where he was no longer bleeding so badly. That was it though. His body felt too drained at the moment to do much more.

Verkur's wings opened, stretched, and then the was in the air, holding Tino by the ankle and lifting them both over the buildings. In a short distance away, they could see the accident, the medics, the police rushing down the road towards the pile of cars and bodies from the direction that the demon had come from.

Verkur flew for a mere few minutes before lowering within ten feet of the ground in an allyway, deep back far enough that the street lamps didn't touch it, and he uncerimoniously dropped Tino before landing himself.

He bit down on his own tongue. Hard. To keep himself from making any sound as the demon launched into the air holding him by the ankle.

And then he hit the ground. With a thud. His head hit the cement. “Fucker...”

"Again with the fucking. Do you understand what would happen to you if I fucked you, human?" He moved closer, inspected the half healed wounds, and then plunged a single claw through the human's shoulder again. "My claws would make your skin into ribbons, my teeth would tear through you like your wolf teeth would go through a peice of meat. And I would split you nearly in half."

All of this true, none of it gloating. All of this highly dangerous, even to another demon. Even to his own kind. While many species of Demon were used to 'rough sex' that is all it is compared to Vyncyra's species. They're matings were pure brutal. Who can inflict more pain on the other? and if the other dies? There is always another.

He screams as the claw is drove into his shoulder. His body begins to change into were form again. Damn Tino. Make up your mind. Human. Were. Human Were. He snarls and lunges forward with teeth gnashing towards the demon.

Where would Tino try to bite if Verkur has covered his throat with one arm and folded his wings tightly close to his body. Not that any of these will kill him were he attacked. He can't die on this earth unless the gods want it really. There are ways but they are nearly impossible.

But anyways, Verkur didn't try to stop the werewolf this time. He simply let the wolf drive his own claw further into him, and fell back with the motion and force, allowing himself to drop to the ground backwards.

Teeth sank into the arm of the demon. Were moved with the beast as it fell backwards. Yes. Verkur’s claw sank further into Tino’s shoulder. He ignored it. For now anyway. He had to force himself to not gag as he began to shake his head and tear at the demons arm.