neniadellafine:

warning is in place for extreme gore.

     _{Stepping over a carcass, he notes that the light is considerably dimmer.  These ruins have many twists and turns in them, possibly with a few gangster corpses along the way.  The kids these days like to play tough, but most of them lack the abilities of survival and direction.  Perhaps, when the world is kinder, such skills will have no real requirement, but privately Valentine prefers the wilderness—
     Especially when there is hunting to be done.  But there is one thing to ascertain first:
     The girl cannot see.  No one can see.  He hesitates to show even the paramour his consumptions, though he has surely seen it before, been it before.
     Midgar makes for a favored hunting ground.  Not enough people to leave a strong scent that dissuades the beasts from roaming, close to his home, and no one to question the unnatural dismemberment of bodies—feeding is m e s s y business.
     He thinks to himself, ‘Why am I so obsessed with this today?  Has it…truly been that long?’
     ‘i’M HuNGRY, HoST.’
     Encased in a shadow, he hunches, fighting the wave of nausea that bubbles up from his middle.  His gauntlet slaps the wall, adding his own claw marks to the stone structure, far above the tussle melee from pack fighting.  He thinks himself far enough into the shadows that he is hidden from the girl’s sight, for light in this rubble is severely lacking.  An ordinary human would not make it so far here; even he relies mostly on his other senses, for the patches of sunlight that occasionally little the floor are more of a hindrance than a help, especially on days where the sun is bright.
     His very spine seems to rattle.  Eyes snap to attention, slowly hollowing from deep crimson to a bottomless black depth.  His breathing becomes more ragged, and he knows he cannot stay here.  With his skull nearly cracking in two as a foreboding hockey mask emerges from his flesh, he takes off running.  Heavy footfalls echo off the cement walls, and more than once his skin catches on large nails and jutting pieces of metal framework.  Cold, stagnant water splashes his feet and soaks his toes through the cloth that is emerging.  Blood is slowly starting to flow through his flesh as a new body takes over, and pain circulates as the warmth occupies veins that would have otherwise remained empty.  The growls from his burdened breaths edges on metallic, almost i n h u m a n.
     Crashing into a fallen pole, he tumbles rather fantastically into a circlet of feasting guard hounds.  The impact hurries the transformation of his left arm into a weapon, completely breaking off the hand from the wrist.  He lets loose a bloodcurdling sCREAM that frightens most of the wolves into retreat, and that hand begins to change: elongates, grows teeth, starts its new pattern—whir, whir, whir.  Round and round the chain whips, shuddering on the cold ground, catching the hair of the abandoned meal.
     They had caught a human.  Already dead, and…are his aesthetics not ground down enough?  The new form, nearly only skin and bone, bound only by its jersey and hockey mask, crawls toward it.  A ghastly hand grips the hilt of that living chainsaw, and still-warm crimson splats across his arm as the belly is pierced.  That sweet aroma, the one he c r a v e s, of the excretion, explodes.  A jagged laugh spills forth from the wired-over mouthpiece of the mask, and a long tongue unfurls and slides over the spreading pile of yellow liquid on the floor.  A sigh, almost orgasmic in nature, fills the tunnel.
     ‘Hellmasker, no—’
     “You HaVe DeNieD Me Too LoNG, HoST.  i WiLL TaKe WHaT iS MiNe.”
     ‘Its a human—!’
     “FRaNKLy, My DeaR, i DoN’T GiVe a DaMN.”
     Mental disgust fills him, and he is repulsed by the monster he has become.  He can do nothing but sit and watch while the H e l l m a s k e r consumes what it requires.  And then—
     The one guard hound that has remained pounces, attempting to gnaw on the bony leg that sprawls on the floor.  But—lazily, the humming weapon is swung.  Two halves of hound fall to the floor, and a new scent of simple piss fills the area with the pool of dank blood.  And it laughs…l a u g h s.
     “THouGH i HaVe a CHoiCe…iT WouLD HuRT MoRe To See a HuMaN Be CoNSuMeD, RiGHT~?  aND BeSiDeS—“  Long fingers slick through the stained water and it brings them up to be sucked.  Muffled, the grating voice comes: “HuMaNS aLWayS TaSTe BeTTeR.”}

<sup>█{{✰}}██ The scent changing had done nothing other than make her pause, the scent was enough to drive her to worry she might be about to step into. She’s been around the smell of death long enough to know whenever she needed to be careful. As inhumane as she is, she held no desire to enter into combat unless she must with him; especially if he turned around attempting to fight her whenever she had shown herself as being peaceful. There isn’t much else she could do other than begin to make her way slowly forward. She can’t just sit back with chances of stagnation increasing if she were to allow fear to take hold. No, she owed too many people her life to continue onward. She won’t allow herself to turn into food for whatever is awaiting ahead. That’s all she had decided with knowledge in mind that whatever happens, will not easily happen if the parasite had a say in it. Her own guest if one wished to call it that, all created from her stunted emotional growth.

                 She’s not going to give up so very easily if that’s what was going to be desired, for her to just stand there and die before him. Never, she wouldn’t surrender if that was the last thing out there. She’d die fighting than give up so easily with her own possible paramour out there and wondering if she were safe and sound. The marionette deserved to see her safe, not die to someone so easily.

                  He’s alright, isn’t he?
                           Be ready Rock, I got a bad feeling about this.
                                 Okay…
                
                 Her friend of course was worried about this, not that Ron’s advice didn’t go unheeded knowing he usually was better at noticing things than she ever will be. At least on terms of people, given that she could very well be wandering into a trap now with blade held in gloved digits tightly by the hilt. There’s always going to be her own sense of danger, knowing this will not end well if her dear friend had felt so. Perhaps this is why she had paused at the hum of that chainsaw ringing through the stale air of piss and now blood. This wasn’t a good sign, really wasn’t.

                 The chances of her safety were depleting again and now at this point she must assume that she is going to be dragged into combat. Perhaps that’s what led to blue jetting from her azure hue in the form of flames so brightly. Blue like her soul, like every part of her dear soul and heart knowing this is going to be dicey.

                 She’s ready for the consequences to happen, always had been with her resuming her slow stride onward. Has to be close now, with how loud the chainsaw hummed at this point. Whatever was there has to be hungry anyways for something.

                 So be it then, she’ll at least be ready for whatever is waiting for her only to find her hues trained in shock. The blood, the open carcasses, the being that stood ready to feast only for her to be uncertain on what it even is for that matter. No, really, what the hell was that she could see before her gaze? It was nothing she had seen; enough that it drove her curiosity and at the same time made her grow sick to her stomach with what was around it and her prospect end at it’s hand if she were not careful.

                 This won’t be ending pleasantly, one could notice that as being certain with what awaited her if she didn’t defend herself, more so if she made a mistake during what was along the possible outcomes.</sup>

murakumonumber11:

Lambda finally had her feet on the ground. What is it with people and kidnapping her? While she did not want to go to a hot spring, or do any sort of recreational activity at all, she had no qualms of Rock going there. “… Why have you stopped now? Without me there is no reason not to go.” 

^{{{✰}}—— “…” She only stopped because of her requesting to be set down, an apology was due in some form and allowing her to leave if that is what she felt necessary would work better. Childish whims, that’s all it was for her, childish whims of someone that had not experienced much with the thought of trying to be normal if only for a small amount of time had driven her choice to try having her follow along.}