Where Anyone is Possible
The alley was cold and dry, the sound of blood dripping from the freshly carved wound as loud as the the hum of engines on the road right before them. With a gaping mouth, the criminal looked upon the whore with eager, desperate eyes. Cruddy hands bound by a leather strap, the woman seemed to suddenly snap back into reality, though her mouth was clogged by a small bundle of socks, perfect for keeping her quiet and for giving her difficulty in breathing.
The sound of her cries wouldn't reach those of the outside world, nor would they give cause for anything or anyone to look within the alley to see what was happening. The wound bled freely, a gash across the left side of criminal's face but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes, an electric blue, were caught on another figure that stood right next to the woman with his mouth against her throat, a figure who seemed to transcend the boundaries of the world. Like a blatant taint of the world, pitch black eyes stared back at the criminal, hungry, endless... desiring, yet the whole time that they did, he never once seemed to stop.
The woman's cries faded and as they did, the criminal's hope fled his body. He couldn't scream himself. Wouldn't give the other figure the pleasure of seeing him do so. What indeed seemed to transpire afterwards was a blur. The figure had torn the throat of the young woman, pushing her body limply aside so that the torn remains slammed into the wall beside them, dust rising even as her skull shattered to pieces within the foundation. The criminal, a young man who'd barely reached the age of twenty began to take tiny, yet erratic breaths, the warm condensation that clouded from his breath hanging in the air like fog.
He was going to die and it was all his fault. His life had been one big book of pseudology, a great big book of lies that he'd interwoven several hundred times. His eyes finally managed to squeeze shut as if he could block the scene from reaching his mind. As if he could wish it away and he almost felt like it worked. With a single heaving breath, a sob breaking free from soft pink lips bruised by his fear, bleeding from his teeth biting at its flesh, he reopened them and the figure had vanished into the unknown. Perhaps this was indeed his lucky break.
Only.. he then felt something behind him, a presence that hadn't been there before. As if he could stop whatever it was with a single jerk forward to turn himself around, his body finally allowed him time to move, yet when it did, he landed on the ground with a crisp thud, his back scratching against the hard cement with jagged, uneven scratches. Fear immediately groped at his body, taking over his being. Behind him that figure stood, hair as black as night, eyes darker and more impeding, as if they could stare into your soul. Spiked gauntlets graced his arms, and around his neck? A fucking collar of the same make.
Tattoos riddled his body like a canvas and he supposed that he should have been enraptured by even more fear, yet there was something about the man that seemed heavenly, like a release. He wore a cloak about himself, a dark grey thing that seemed to shimmer within the air like liquid silver caught within a tube. Yet his eyes weren't on his clothes. They were on his head where giant horns had seemed transfixed within his skull, jutting out to curve awkwardly without a hint of an end. There seemed to be no breaths that escaped his mouth. At least not any that he could see himself.
He'd almost given up hope that he would fight for his death when the -- thing shifted in his stance, dark eyes moving toward the full moon that lit up the sky. For years the figure hadn't even bothered stepping out into the moon. Hadn't been affected by it. But now there seemed to be a change within him. His eyes changed from jet black to a crackling red, those horns slowly retreating into his skull, yet at the same time, his body began smoking and smoldering. The scent of burned flesh rose into the air, heated beyond comparison, yet the sound that came from him was worse then even that.
The sound was hysterical, a lunatic without a mind, a cackle that seemed to tear into the night. Even as he laughed out loud, thick black bristles shot from his flesh like needles from a porcupine. Thousands, millions. The numbering was of no importance. His hands moved to his bare chest, claws tearing through flesh and as the criminal watched, the figure began skinning himself alive, first of every hint of flesh on his front side, then over his shoulders, his back. The cloak was tossed to the side to the wet, cold ground and the whole time that the criminal watched, he was transfixed on the show, his body going numb of all emotion, of all feeling. He felt blotches begin rising before his eyes, white and black as if the world around him had exploded.
The already tall figure seemed to be growing in height now, his body wreathed with sickening black flames, his legs jerking this way and that as every single bone broke a thousand times over just to heal back once again and repeat the process until it was right. The flesh at his back side seemed to lengthen until there was a jet black tail flowing from his end, his face twisting and turning, flesh burning and melting away. His nose lengthened first as the bones of his face began breaking and splintering, followed by his mouth which moved immediately to join the gruesome contortion of his nose. When all was said and done, the towering figure was no longer just a human form, but enraptures somewhere between a giant wolf and human, a figure who resembled a lycan yet couldn't be because of his previous looks. He hadn't been breathing, and his chest didn't seem to be heaving with the signs that he needed to.
The only signs that seemed to come through at all were the pangs of hunger, his mouth widening to show fearsome, canine like fangs, his maw stretched to its fiercest limits. A low, guttural grow cut through the air like a knife through butter, almost daring the criminal to move in his place, to run, yet he could feel himself slipping under. He needed to get away.
And the only way he could was within a dumpster. Maybe the thing wouldn't be able to get in. He felt his hand reach behind him to grab a piece of lead pipe. His lucky break. For the moment that those piercing red eyes, merged with brilliant flakes of pitch black, found the criminal's hand reaching was the moment that he lurched forward, front paws reaching to break the earth before him. He was like lightning and the man barely had a split second reaction to lift the pipe and slam it toward the creature's head. Yet when it struck, it did more then that.
The end was sharp, incredibly so and it slammed into the creature's head deep and strong. It dropped like a sack of lead, though only for a moment. Its injured skull seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy and as it did, the creature's eyes popped back open, clawed hands reaching to grab at the pipe. Only then did the criminal really think he was going to die. He lurched to his feet and tore through the small alley way with his arms close in front of him. He only had a few moments at the most and--
His thoughts were cut short because the moment he looked back to see where he was and the creature was, a noise above brought his eyes speeding right above his head and his screams tore through the night time sky. He didn't even have time to Flesh flew through the air, blood and gore strewn here and there, and by the time that the wolf like being stopped, there was nothing left, at least nothing that could be processed. Bones were gone, eaten just like all the flesh had been. The rotten scented excrement that had exited the man's body heated the air through torn clothing, blood soaking into the ground.
The earth. And for a moment, he watched as the moon took its highest point in the sky and as it did, it cast a dark red coloring over the earth. Tonight... Tonight was the night that dozens of people would die within Consequence. Tonight was the night that Augustus Giovanni, the vampire, became something he'd never been a true, lycan shifting hybrid. The blood red flash of his eyes faded. And as it did, Augustus realized he'd awakened that trait of his grandfather's blood, lycanthropy that should have been canceled when he was made into a vampire all those years ago. He'd awaken the beast.