[ Post a Response | Wind Gale Pack ]
Posted by Anarchy on January 21, 2008, 3:47 am, in reply to "±Sinister±"
58.163.132.89
Not today.
Anarchy has a name,
You fool –
It’s
DEATH.
Shadows. Dark and consuming, their vines reaching out to wrap around your throat and tug with all their strength, to lash into your flesh with thier cold, sharp talons. Fangs were ready, always ready; but you would only fall into their clutches if you were weak enough. To hold yourself back, to allow yourself some room to move and avoid all that pressure and sorrow. Darkness was like a shadow on your life, blocking many things out until it is decided to move on; a mask upon you face, could you even trust yourself? To become lost to your mind is to become someone else, your body and mind vacant and yet filled all at once. Your eyes would be empty, but a shadow would block the full view. Always there; always waiting for the right moment to strike, once more tools of death ready and waiting.
Swifty pain would creep up on you, jaws agape as it would fall, you being dragged right behind it, always behind it. A quick move and you could free yourself from the clutches in which it held you so tightly, from the grip in which it's firm claws held you. Death had a call, it's voice empty and lyrics poison; harshness and coldness, a mixture of pleasure and pain. What was death really but a release from something much more, from a much greater force above.
Questions, the brute could see them deep within the alpha's mind, the one most commonly asked and most easily answered; where was he from. It always caused a smirk, a twisted grin. Hell, why were others always so inquisative, always wanting to know. With the answer, why not play them? Become the puppeteer, dance your little animals on strings around. One mistake and it could all end, send them spinning into some fake universe, a fragment of insanity. Sanity? What was it but a clear mind and pure thoughts.
Before the brute had time to throw himself towards Anarchy's shoulder blades, a smirk had carressed his maw and a few words had been spoken,
'Dude, I'm not from around here.'
A snarl echoed, blood seeped down his side. There was no way that would surely kill him, nor do much. There was a bone there, causing for the other brute's fangs to stop at some point, disabling him from pushing through the bone to a pressure point, which would damage his nerve. There would be no time to do such a thing. A deep growl rumbled in the onyx and red wolf's chest, his mascabre gaze narrowed to deadly slits, pearls flashed as the brute before him had bared his own flesh.
Swinging his bodice, the brute allowed his flesh to tear, his own jaws coming to close on the side of the alpha's neck, locking like a trap. At the angle they were at, Anarchy knew his throat and stomach were safe, unless the other brute was stupid enough to bare his own throat in an attempt to dive low. Growling, the brute now steadied himself, paws girth widened and his talons stuck into the ground, pearls pressed down harder upon soft flesh, head tugging from either side.
Maybe this would just be a fight to the death. A fight many a'times he had challenged and won, battleworn as he was under his pelt. Now, to pass down the first attack was normal, why even bother when it would only cause for the other to size you up, you could drag them down into a sense of false saftey, let them feel as though they're winning. One thing was for sure, Anarchy liked to get his way, and was one hell'ava stubborn brute towards getting it. Try and break free, only another attack would counter.
Put your arms down,
Lower your voice,
There is no choice
This world is mayhem,
Your screams are
Ordinary.
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