Winter's Spite
Who: Hol Horse, Alucard, NPC Officers
Where: Ally way at city's edge
When: Weekend
What: Hol finds himself between a wall and many hard places as he's beaten into submission with devious eyes looking on.
Warnings: Post-abuse
The scene of smeared blood and wafting gun-smoke luring him like a starving dog to scraps left out on the street. Though it was unfortunate for him that these would be hardly fit for his insatiable appetite. He seemed to meld with the shadows that oftentimes looked like an extension of himself and descended into the quarrelsome alleyways. The vultures dressed in official uniform jeered and heckled one of their injured subordinates, pecking and clawing at him not even because they were famished. Just a piece of dying meat they would rather see go to waste. It disgusted the shadowed Hellhound and his displeasure was apparent with the sneer that marred his perpetual Reaper's grin.
"Thought you were gonna get it easy now, eh?!"
"Oof!"
"Ever since Prince Big Red descended from his castle."
"Haha! What'd you think he was gonna keep us from come'n around, fag?"
"Gaahn! N-nnn..."
The black dog lidded ember eyes that caught the reflection of the vulture taking a barbarous jab at the tatted shell of a work-horse writhing on the slosh-covered ground. The work-horse known as Hol. His pathetic, cowardice cries bounced off the icy brick walls. Shredded and bleeding from every visible orifice, his remains were scattered across the dingy ground in splatters of scarlet and blond hair. It was apparent they had made sure to make up for all the lost beatings while their superior took reign of their so-called territory.
"Asshole even raised his salary!"
"Ahh for what, for catch'n a few two-bit crooks robb'n that run-down craphole they call of school?"
"Kinna bullshit is that?"
"You wouldn't know anything 'bout that wouldja fagrag?"
Hol hardly got far when the lead vulture caught him by his shoulder as he haggardly dragged himself across the concrete. The scavenger wouldn't allow him even the luxury of answering in defense as he shot his fist across his face, spewing a spray of blood across the nearby dumpster.
"If there's somethin the boss drilled into us, it was his creepy obsession with humility."
"Little bitch better be learn'n plenty of it now."
"Nah, few bruises ain't enough."
"Eeh?"
"Whattaya think your boyfriend'll say this time.. if we leave somethin a bit more..." The black dog watched the uniformed bird swoop down upon the Horse, with white-eyes growing wide at the sight of sharpened silver flicking up to gulping his throat, "Permanent."
A piercing shriek cut through the alleyway, not in the form of Hol's petrified scream, but in the sound of steel splitting air. The officers scattered like startled crows, with only the lead buzzard left dangling over the kill, not by his own admonition, but by the arm of Cerberus hoisting him up by the jugular.
"Chief!"
"Alu... Alucard!"
The brittle ground split as the knife finally struck the earth after being smacked from the officer's hand. He struggled in the beast's grip only momentarily, for the feel of frigid metal dragging along his gut had him mortally frozen. There was a heinous grin that danced across Alucard's features the underling had never seen before. Morbid glee, cruel amusement, cold cynicism were things he was used to. But to see true unbridled anger marring those haunting timeless features had the man petrified for his life. There had been only one rumored reason why none ever witnessed this man, this monster's fury. Yet with one move Alucard sought to crush their hope for a swift trip to non-existence.
Death was a release for trash. He wouldn't grace them with the pleasure after this disgrace. And just like the trash he was, Alucard tossed the man aside at the other officers who stood befuddled, awaiting their impending descent into Hell.
"You buzzards couldn't even keep it clean..." Came the ominous retort that left the alleyway in a chilling hush as they watched the shadowed man lift Hol from the ground, ember-like eyes assessing the damage.
The men were dumbfounded, muttering amongst themselves till the lead was shoved to his feet to answer for them.
"Chief.. Y-your orders!"
"MY ORDERS WERE TO KEEP YOUR SHIT-STAINED CLAWS OFF WHAT'S MINE!"
The guttural roar from their superior had the officers nearly smelling of fecal matter streaming down their slacks. For months the wicked Hellhound had allowed the ongoing bullying of the cowardly security officer, even encouraged it at times in hopes that it would strike a sense of paranoia into him whenever he thought about stepping out of line with his gross misconduct while wearing that uniform. Yet through all the harassment that had been reported up to him and he casually waved off, it was never meant to go this far without his approval. His vile scroungers knew better than this.
"Useless rats with wings, you're not even fit to eat the scum off the sewer drains, no... You're even lower than that." His detest was poisonous and they could feel it like acid already eating away at the insides of their guts, "Report back to the precinct and timidly await my punishment."
The men were near blurs as they broke into frantic sprints to their patrol vehicles. Whether they followed his orders or not was not the Nightwalker's concern at the moment. Staring indifferently at the pitiful piece of flesh in his grasp with indignation he callously dropped him back on the harsh ground and stepped away as Winter's unforgiving wind fluttered the ends of his coat and speckled ice across Hol's face as if just to spite him more.
"Get up."
Where: Ally way at city's edge
When: Weekend
What: Hol finds himself between a wall and many hard places as he's beaten into submission with devious eyes looking on.
Warnings: Post-abuse
The scene of smeared blood and wafting gun-smoke luring him like a starving dog to scraps left out on the street. Though it was unfortunate for him that these would be hardly fit for his insatiable appetite. He seemed to meld with the shadows that oftentimes looked like an extension of himself and descended into the quarrelsome alleyways. The vultures dressed in official uniform jeered and heckled one of their injured subordinates, pecking and clawing at him not even because they were famished. Just a piece of dying meat they would rather see go to waste. It disgusted the shadowed Hellhound and his displeasure was apparent with the sneer that marred his perpetual Reaper's grin.
"Thought you were gonna get it easy now, eh?!"
"Oof!"
"Ever since Prince Big Red descended from his castle."
"Haha! What'd you think he was gonna keep us from come'n around, fag?"
"Gaahn! N-nnn..."
The black dog lidded ember eyes that caught the reflection of the vulture taking a barbarous jab at the tatted shell of a work-horse writhing on the slosh-covered ground. The work-horse known as Hol. His pathetic, cowardice cries bounced off the icy brick walls. Shredded and bleeding from every visible orifice, his remains were scattered across the dingy ground in splatters of scarlet and blond hair. It was apparent they had made sure to make up for all the lost beatings while their superior took reign of their so-called territory.
"Asshole even raised his salary!"
"Ahh for what, for catch'n a few two-bit crooks robb'n that run-down craphole they call of school?"
"Kinna bullshit is that?"
"You wouldn't know anything 'bout that wouldja fagrag?"
Hol hardly got far when the lead vulture caught him by his shoulder as he haggardly dragged himself across the concrete. The scavenger wouldn't allow him even the luxury of answering in defense as he shot his fist across his face, spewing a spray of blood across the nearby dumpster.
"If there's somethin the boss drilled into us, it was his creepy obsession with humility."
"Little bitch better be learn'n plenty of it now."
"Nah, few bruises ain't enough."
"Eeh?"
"Whattaya think your boyfriend'll say this time.. if we leave somethin a bit more..." The black dog watched the uniformed bird swoop down upon the Horse, with white-eyes growing wide at the sight of sharpened silver flicking up to gulping his throat, "Permanent."
A piercing shriek cut through the alleyway, not in the form of Hol's petrified scream, but in the sound of steel splitting air. The officers scattered like startled crows, with only the lead buzzard left dangling over the kill, not by his own admonition, but by the arm of Cerberus hoisting him up by the jugular.
"Chief!"
"Alu... Alucard!"
The brittle ground split as the knife finally struck the earth after being smacked from the officer's hand. He struggled in the beast's grip only momentarily, for the feel of frigid metal dragging along his gut had him mortally frozen. There was a heinous grin that danced across Alucard's features the underling had never seen before. Morbid glee, cruel amusement, cold cynicism were things he was used to. But to see true unbridled anger marring those haunting timeless features had the man petrified for his life. There had been only one rumored reason why none ever witnessed this man, this monster's fury. Yet with one move Alucard sought to crush their hope for a swift trip to non-existence.
Death was a release for trash. He wouldn't grace them with the pleasure after this disgrace. And just like the trash he was, Alucard tossed the man aside at the other officers who stood befuddled, awaiting their impending descent into Hell.
"You buzzards couldn't even keep it clean..." Came the ominous retort that left the alleyway in a chilling hush as they watched the shadowed man lift Hol from the ground, ember-like eyes assessing the damage.
The men were dumbfounded, muttering amongst themselves till the lead was shoved to his feet to answer for them.
"Chief.. Y-your orders!"
"MY ORDERS WERE TO KEEP YOUR SHIT-STAINED CLAWS OFF WHAT'S MINE!"
The guttural roar from their superior had the officers nearly smelling of fecal matter streaming down their slacks. For months the wicked Hellhound had allowed the ongoing bullying of the cowardly security officer, even encouraged it at times in hopes that it would strike a sense of paranoia into him whenever he thought about stepping out of line with his gross misconduct while wearing that uniform. Yet through all the harassment that had been reported up to him and he casually waved off, it was never meant to go this far without his approval. His vile scroungers knew better than this.
"Useless rats with wings, you're not even fit to eat the scum off the sewer drains, no... You're even lower than that." His detest was poisonous and they could feel it like acid already eating away at the insides of their guts, "Report back to the precinct and timidly await my punishment."
The men were near blurs as they broke into frantic sprints to their patrol vehicles. Whether they followed his orders or not was not the Nightwalker's concern at the moment. Staring indifferently at the pitiful piece of flesh in his grasp with indignation he callously dropped him back on the harsh ground and stepped away as Winter's unforgiving wind fluttered the ends of his coat and speckled ice across Hol's face as if just to spite him more.
"Get up."