[M] a lack of color here [closed]

[Anonymous]

Wishing that he had never touched that tender spot on his neck where blood had been drawn, Sekani removed his hand from its base, refraining lavender eyes from looking back down on his hand. He was not afraid of blood, no, but the mere fact that this beast had drawn the crimson liquid from his own neck was enough to make him want to pass out. It was strange, how he found out all these little weaknesses in his own persona, now that he was faced with true hardship. He used to think he had it hard – being born without a mother in the depths of Zantaric, loosing his father before he had even hit double-digits, wandering ever since... This beast was the epitome of reality – how life was never fair, and even if you thought you had it bad, it could – and would – always end up worse. What a strange, strange world he lived in...

The beast pushed him – a brief and swift gesture, but with enough force to break Sekani's will, ending up on the bed, which would now serve as his prison. What would he have traded to not be in this position, to not be the prey of some stranger, one that he barely exchanged words with – one who was going to destroy what Sekani held most dear to him – his pride. Damn pride! What was it good for, except putting you in these types of situations where one could not wiggle out of, except at the cost of death? He blamed his father for that – he had went out without a bang, had lost his sense of self-respect, and Kani had vowed not to be like him. And look where it had got him? In a full blown nightmare – one that he'd never awake from.

Like a rat running from the hands of a child, Sekani edged towards the corner of the bed farthest away from the beast, pulling his knees up to his chest, like the barrier was enough to keep him away. "Fuck you!" he shouted again, but from his stance, it was obvious that his words meant nothing. How could one ever take a frail eighteen year old seriously, who was curled up into a ball, almost shuddering from what he could assume was to come. "You're a fuckin' psycho, dude! Seriously, is this how you get your kicks? Raping some random dude off the streets – seriously?" He groaned, clenching his teeth together until he felt like they would shatter under the pressure. Fuck, he really was screwed – probably in the most literarily sense of the word.

[Anonymous]

It was always so terribly amusing, in the darkest sense of the word, that most of the people S'ric came up against were the sort that should've fled at the very sight of him. Those that knew how to fight, and knew how to size up a man, generally left the tall werewolf alone. Though it was not immediately obvious he was a shifter, S'ric was 6'8", very tall, and radiated an animalistic violence no human could match.  What then prompted people to provoke him? Generally S'ric didn't pay attention to anyone because they were beneath his notice. Those that challenged him in some way, however, blipped on his radar. And they either died, or ended up complaining because he was apathetic about how they felt about what he did to them. Which made the werewolf vaguely convinced that humans in general had no survival instinct. Even the domesticated dogs had known to run from him. And they were stupid.

It was no surprise to S'ric that the boy edged away from him, to the corner. Like distance would make S'ric go away. He was about to crawl after until the boy opened his mouth. They always did that... "Fuck you! You're a fuckin' psycho, dude! Seriously, is this how you get your kicks? Raping some random dude off the streets – seriously?"

Oh.

S'ric smiled then, feeling particularly sadistic given his rather bad mood concerning the heat. This boy wasn't the sort he'd keep. Too much bark, no bite. Which meant there was no desire to claim him, and thus no need for sexual gratification. No need. Might lead to it if the boy kept up this yammering. S'ric stared for a moment, the smile still in place, before turning to where he'd left his knife in the wall. It was little effort to pull it out, after which he turned back to the boy. If the boy was so very against that sort of action, then S'ric had something else equally pleasing in mind. And people said he wasn't considerate.

[Anonymous]

Strangely enough, it became harder and harder to breath after his little outburst, as if inside, he had known that such a move hadn't been a smart one. The thief's heart thumped uncontrollably, to the point where he had to clutch a jittery hand over his chest, squeezing it harshly, clutching bits of his soiled beige vest in the process. Despite his previous fear, there was some new sadistic aura that hung in the air after his outburst – one that didn't sit too well with Sekani. Before, the beast's moves had been almost predictable. He could see where this all was leading, which had lead to a rebellious cry in protest. But now, he seemed to smile, one that would probably haunt him for the rest of his life, and walked towards a dim corner of the room where a sword sat idly in the wall, which was withdrawn effortlessly from it's holder.

Oh, shit.

The beast advanced towards him with that same smile plastered over his unforgiving features, sword in hand, coming close – too close, closer than Sekani would've liked. He was stubborn and full of pride, sure, and maybe he couldn't take a hint sometimes, but an insanely tall monster coming at him with a sword in hand was enough to get him to shut up, for now. However, he couldn't voice his obedience, was too choked up to do so. Constantly, he was hanging between the possibility of life or death, but that stubborn side of him wanted to get out of this without any humiliation. Oh, it was a hopeless wish, he knew. In fact, he wasn't even sure why he held onto such a ridiculous hope – perhaps it was the only thing keeping his sanity at this point...

He opened his mouth, eyes dancing in choked up tears, but nothing but slurred stutters came from his vocals. If this had been another time and another place, perhaps he would've thought it was amusing to find that he had been reducing to this blubbering, pathetic mass of a thief. All he could think was don't kill me, don't kill me, as his lavender eyes locked onto the sword. Was he a coward, for loving life so much that he would rather be raped than killed? That was how his father would like at this, should he still be sane. Where is your pride, he would ask. Sekani would answer that it had been tossed at the window, as soon as he had been tossed in.

All he could do was bury his head between his knees, drawing himself up into a tighter ball. It was not much of a response, but the beast had caught his tongue – and probably wouldn't hesitate to literally cut it out, if prodded.

[Anonymous]

So it would see the boy had thought not talking a better course of action now that S'ric had a hold of a knife. Imagine that. Why the human race acted in ways that would result in more pain for them baffled the werewolf. Not that he really cared. Since it was their inability to run from a fight that led to amusing night for S'ric. He shifted on the bed, kneeling as he leaned forward to grab Sekani's ankle... effectively pulling him away from the wall by it. Not only did S'ric pull him flat on the bed, but he pulled Sekani so he could position the leg he had ahold of to one side of his hips, shifting to be between his legs. S'ric happened to like being this close because he liked it when they squirmed. Everyone did. With a precise flick of his wrist, the knife blade was benead the hem of Sekani't shirt, pressing along his lower abomen. Cold, impossibly so given the heat. His smile remained fixed, a warning of what was to come if there ever was one, before he jerked up with the knife as though to gut him..... and cut his shirt. Only his shirt. S'ric was extremely proficient with knives. Centuries of their use along with his sharp reflexes meant that if he wanted to hurt Sekani, he would. And if he just wanted to cut the fabric, that's all he would cut. For now.

S'ric growled a little, using the tip of the knife to push the fabric off of his body, exposing it to S'ric. He leaned over Sekani, a hand next to Sekani's head to hold his upper body off his, while the blade was held close. Where to start, where to start?