"You gawd damn mutherfucker!",
as a steel-toe boot impaled the stomach of an already seriously
injured Marcus. The attacker, glaring an intense hatred over the fallen individual certainly had a
bone to pick.
"You fuckin' think you git away from me...piece of shit.", as a heel smashed down on Marcus's
cramped and dirt stained hand. A faint groan escaped Marcus's lips, signaling that he still has life
in him, giving the attacker some relief that he's not dead from the beating though he showed little
sign of such. "I expect t'git paid fo' my services and yet you bail on me once again, Marco...bastard."
As the assailant slowly walked around Marcus. "You think junk is free? Huh?", offering another kick.
"I expect m'money on time!"
From the darkness of the alleyway, a faint growl was barely heard, causing the attacker to glance over
for a moment. Eyes...yellow eyes danced in the farthest corner, giving a slight chill down anyone's spine.
"Yer fuckin' dog?", the attacker asked as he peered a bit closer, turning back for only a brief moment to
Marcus...though that was his mistake.
With a short gruff roar, a black mass of beast smashed into Marcus's assaliant, immediately clutching
an enormous clawed hand around his throat. The assaliant, in utter shock, desperately tried to free himself
as his oxygen supply was quickly closed off. The beast lifted the assaliant off the ground and slammed him
hard to the wall of the dark alleyway.
The beast's bat-faced features leered down to Marcus for a moment, seeing he was still alive. The assaliant
was unable to release the grasp around his throat as carbon dioxide was quickly replacing the draining oxygen in his lungs,
clawing and fighting his best for at least an ounce of life-saving air. But the Dancer was showing no mercy.
In a guttural speech, the Dancer made his voice heard before slowly lifting a clawed finger up to
the assaliant's mouth. Without waiting any longer, the Dancer thrusted the claw into the mouth, twisting
and bloodying up the mouth and back throat. Not a sound could escape the assaliant as pain from the torture
ripped the lower jaw. The Dancer pushed further back, breaking to the underneath of the skull and making contact
to the spine and lower brain. With one quick pull, the Dancer ends the assaliants life as the spinal cord
disconnects completely from the brain.
And dropping the dead body to the ground, the Dancer moves over and carefully gathers the injured Marcus in its
massive arms and holds him close, growling lightly to relax. The eyes of Marcus slowly opened and, with a smirk
that could only be taken as pride, layed in the protective arms of the Dancer. And as the wind slowly picked up,
Marcus's shirt drifted up a bit to reveal the insignia of a Dancer kinfolk.
The following morning, police block off the alley as another murder case goes unsolved.
For centuries, Wyrm has enforced Its desire to seek freedom from the restraints of Weaver.
And by doing so, the world has fallen into a despair that, in due time, will have no chance
of ever returning back to the land of hope. Fucking Gaian's think they make change? Think they can
actually push us back? Stupid fuckers don't see where the true power sits. Besides, the Wyrm is only
doing its job. Riiiiiiigght???
Being a kinfolk to the Bastards ain't so bad. They really look out for us quite a bit. Mainly since we're crazy enough to understand them as well as not stinking of supernatural werewolf or somethin'. When you think about it, we're sorta like gophers...lackeys...with a few extra goodies. Sometimes they'll smash up someone for us just cause it gives them pleasure to do so. I don't mind. Gives me a sense of power...an ego. *chuckle* Fuckin' A, it just kicks ass to have big brother backin' you up. And in return? We'll do their bidding. Sometimes we'll even take the blame for them. Like, once this guy I knew? He was kin while his older brother was a Dancer. Seems the Dancer left one too many trails for police to pick up on. So what's this kinfolk do? He has all the clues turn and point to himself. Police arrest him, toss him in prison for a few decades...and the Dancer gets away scott-free. It's this whole veil thing. Gotta stay under cover. Of course, the Dancer's later freed that kinfolk...but that's beside the point. And not many people out there understand about this whole Wyrm ordeal. Hell, I ain't certain on that whole ordeal myself. All I know, is that it has a job to do and there're creatures that want to stop it. Why should they? If this was meant to be, then these fuckin' goodie-two shoe, tree-huggin', no-swearing, be good to your mom, proud as apple pie werewolves need to get a serious clue here. You can't win with such power. It's all around you and they expect to put an end to it? I bet ya if there was life elsewhere in the universe, it'd be just the same as here. From what I heard, there's some mystic entity that's trapped the Wyrm...some webbing of some sort. And that's ok?? Hello! Maybe people should stop for a moment and rethink this. Perhaps whatever this other entity is may be the cause of all problems. But noooooo...gotta be macho and take some easy answer for everyone's problems. It's the Wyrm's fault...yeah, whatever.
Kiss my ass.
Gotta love those parties, though. I mean, it's not often that the bastards invite us and never to their secret lair. But once in a while we'll meet at someone's house, play loud music, get messed up on whatever drug is currently being passed around (usually several) and fuck like rabbits til dawn. I heard there was some party out in the woods once where everyone was shitfaced and started beating up on each other. I missed that one but I heard there were some nasty injuries. My friend, Scott, got his nose busted up quite hard and the scars show it.
Me? I currently graduated from UCLA...nice 3.5 average. Heh, my buddies were so damn proud of me. Pentex has been callin' me askin' if I'd like a position in their offices. Freakin' $60,000 a year salary. Not bad for landing my first job. I just gotta sign the papers and I can start work next month. I haven't been told exactly of my duties yet except that it's in the R&D area. I guess its hush-hush...you know, corporate secrecy. So it looks like my life is set. Get a good savings all set and hopefully retire early. But, um...gotta take off. There's some techno/rave club at some warehouse tonight and the word is that a few of us are goin'a crash it. And usually that's taken literal...meaning, we're in and out before the police arrive. Hope to see ya there.