Night terrors [NC-17]

Powerful legs pushed him onward, the blonde brushing aside the branches that hung in his way. The only thing that drove him was fear, and the adrenaline that pushed him forward, the one thing that wanted him to survive. All he knew was that something was chasing him and this thing was powerful, so powerful that even someone like him could not stop it. Shadows danced at the edge of his vision, these indistinct shapes that were much like wolves. The sound of leaves being crushed under feet could be heard close behind him, along with nothing else, just that sound.
 
Within an instant Brandon found himself slamming against a tree with his shoulder, and the sheer force of it sent the wooden monolith tumbling. He only stumbled for a second before running full speed again, yet the sound did not recede. The moon shone bright in the sky, casting its ghostly pale light upon him and the path that stretched before him. Dirty ground decorated with the dead leaves that had fallen within fall. Brandon wanted to stop, to rest and maybe to go home, yet that was not the case.
 
 It was all because he had to take that late night jog, instead of just reading like he was supposed to. Within an instant he heard the presence get close, a slashing pain running up his torso, fresh blood splashing across the dark figure that had pushed him against the ground, then threw him against a tree. ”Awww, are you scared?” That indistinct voice mocked, pulling Brandon up and pinning him against the tree, powerful legs simply falling limp downward. Another powerful swipe and he found his face garnering a few lines that bled.
 

Some of the thick blood ran into his eyes, blinding his right eye. Pressure was released from his neck and he was let fall against the ground, breathing heavily, The white t-shirt was rent where it seemed that claws had torn through both flesh and cloth, his face also ruined. Looking up he saw something, a face marred with burn scars but these sharp golden eyes looking down upon him, and then the devilish smirk.

.     New York City….. The city that never sleeps, or so they say. Silently the black dress shoes stepped through the alleyway. Their movements had purpose, driven by the impeccable senses of the Italian sophisticate. The first noise he had made, was his feet splashing into a puddle, sending water every which way as he strode through. His face still hidden in shadow he stepped forward, slowly and still ever so silently. The streetlight slowly illuminating from is chin to the bottom of the eye sockets, violet eyes narrowed as if it were a looming predator glaring at his prey.  A woman with a carriage, inside is but one lonely child. His upper lip arch’s as canines protrude and become all the sharper, teeth forming into sharpened fangs, weapons crafted by the God of the Hunt had there ever been one. He lets out a little hiss as he moves to step forward. The black shoe is revealed in the streetlight.

   His eyes softened as his still heart sunk down to his stomach. What was he doing...this was not him...and he wasn't bound to let the monster control him! Hunger pains sent the spurns and scorns of his disobedience to rack his bones and send him into an episode of pain and torment. The pain knew no end, the feeling of a thousand needles slowly being jabbed through into his stomach, with each stabbing there was a feeling of nausea. He stepped back into the shadows, remaining unseen by the mother and child who would have found themselves prey. He turned and made way through the alley, staggering as he cradled his stomach, doubled over and running shoulder first into the corner.  He let out a loud cry of pain, releasing not only a cry of man but the cry of a beast, a blood curdling and heart-wrenching noise of pain virtually begging for an end to it’s torment. He dropped to his knees and heaved as he looked to the ground, a rather dark green substance known as ichor spewing through his mouth and onto the ground. Tears welled in his eyes as he continued his gagging, coughing and spewing. He eventually calmed himself, the pain subsiding into a dull aching. His eyes were pink and puffy, He drug his formal coat sleeve across his mouth, clearing it as he took in trembling and shaky breathing, as if he were a premature infant.

   This was becoming all to frequent. His activities in New York City have seemed to “quell” a good portion of the vampiric population, and without Vampires preying upon humans then He was out of his usual food source. For while he was a creature of darkness, he was not one who rejoiced in evil though neither was he one who rejoiced in the death of the wicked. He was one, like God, whom rejoiced only when the wicked turned from their ways. But when the wicked would not turn from their ways, they were his food source. The Vampires whom preyed upon the humans with the intent to kill or to convert were all the vampires he would feed on and vanquish. It appeared as though he had done his job too well though, as now he had no food other than rodents and avian life. These violent episodes were increasing in severity, frequency and lengthening in duration... slowly but surely he was losing his mind. He looked as if he had put on ten years in the past week. Greying hair, a few wrinkles (though nothing TOO noticeable) and dark rings under the eyes as his sanity faded. This was the curse of the Vampire who protected the humans…this was the curse of the Vampire who defied his nature… this was the curse of the Vampire who would never surrender to his dark nature and would never let the darkness win.

   This was the curse of Vitalè Muraro…

    His ears would have twitched, but instead his pupils constricted as his ears picked up a most unusual noise. His eyes darted around as he shifted positions and moved forward some, gaining the strength to move. He fell forward, intentionally as he placed his ear to the concrete. The sound of footsteps, muffled but heavy. The vibrations picked up by his capacity to feel, and his nose began sniffing, like that of a dog…. Wet dog. That smell made Vitalè’s upper lip rise and his fangs to protrude on their own once more as his violet eyed began to glow red with the effigies of a golden clock within them. He placed his hand upon his chest, clasping the pure silver cross. ”Mio Dei, Be with me in this hour. I hunger, but I know you will provide for me. I ache, but I know that you will soothe me. I am angry, but I know you shall give me serenity. I sense the danger and I know you will prepare me. Though I may be a monster of the darkness…may I be a conduit of your light….of your eternal grace and mercy. May my fangs be steady, my claws be swift and my aim true…. And should the worst come to pass….” Vitalè said, still trembling breathing as he seemed to subtly gasp for air. He paused as he let go of the cross and prepared to exert even more energy than he had. He calmed himself and steadied his nerves as he looked up, locked onto the scent of wet dog and the sound of brutality. ”Then I ask of your forgiveness.”

   He took off as fast as vampiric speed could take him, quickly closing in upon his target. He was shocked to see what he believed to be a young man under assault. Vitalè did not stop as the child was still down against the tree, the were’s back to him. ”Awww, are you scared?”  He heard, his pupils turning to reptilian slits. Vitalè ran past the werewolf, using superior mobility to jump from the ground to the tree. The moment his foot hit the tree, he pushed off with a twist, leaning back. He pushed off the tree, the tree splintering as his thigh hooked and his knee flew straight into the jaw of the werewolf, sending the creature back with a yelp.

     ”Are you?” He retorted, fangs bore with a hiss, Vitalè ran up and leapt, landing his knees upon the broad lupine shoulders. The trapping of the wolven head between his knees prompted Vitalè to use his momentum and strength to lean forward and throw the werewolf back into a tree not so far away. The impact caused the wood to splinter and break. Vitalè landed on his back, bringing his knees to his chest he propelled himself up off his back to a standing position, glaring at the wolf. He knew that many If not all conventional means of damage would not work upon the were creature, but normally Vampires and Lycanthropes were able to harm each other rather easily. The smell of iron filled the air, causing Vitalè to tremble in ecstasy, hungering for the taste. While Vitalè was impressive in skill, his lack of feeding would be obvious to the Lycan, and the Lycan would most likely know that if there were ever a time to kill the creature of the night…it was tonight.

The werewolf let out a bestial yelp as it felt the powerful knee connect with its jaw, being forced back a considerable distance, yet his easily stopped itself, claws digging trenches into the ground. Something was here and it as powerful, fast as well as strong, which narrowed things down greatly. Without being given the chance to really fight back, he was once again thrown against a tree, wood splintering against the force by which he was thrown. Yet he did not feel fear, but exhilaration at what was happening, as if this were just icing atop the cake.
 
”By no means Vitale.” He recognized the scent, nose drawing it in with large draughts. It mingled with the smell of his prey, the poor mutant male that was bleeding against the broken tree, dizzy from the pain that he had caused him. A guttural laugh ripped from his lips, echoing against the trees and upwards like a cacophony of mad laughter. He was protecting this thing, but why was beyond him. Many vampires that he had met before were rather selfish creatures, ones that only gave into their hunger so often.
 
Yet this one was a bleeding heart, a pathetic bleeding heart at that. ”So what brings you here? Protecting another….innocent?” He pondered licking a small drop of blood from power raking claws, tongue like a snake almost. Brandon leaned against the tree, the sound of a familiar name seeming to draw him from the stupor, shock that had perhaps had blocked out all pain. Moving from his position, he felt the pain wash upon him like a wave and fell back down groaning lightly. ”He’s still awake too, how unfortunate.” The lupine growled with a certain reverberating quality.
 
It was the vampires trembling form that gave him away more than anything, something made him shake as such, and there was only one thing that could mean. ’Oh..” It began with an amused exasperation, a low chuckle once again following this, seemingly slowing eyes narrowed within the moonlight. ’Are you….hungry?” This question echoed within the open air. ” Well go ahead, he’s full of the stuff, hell its practically….spilling out.”

"My hunger is not your concern you filthy mongrel." Vitalè growled, his trembling subsiding as his fangs shot out even farther, inhuman qualities showing ever moreso. The features receded quickly as his eyes began to glow even harsher. The iron was...intoxicating, his eyes remained deadest upon the werewolf, knowing exactly who this was no, though he could not call to mind a name. The face however, the face was something new. Vitalè had already formulated a plan to best the beast. He looked back to Brandon, appearing all human save for the eyes and slightly sharper canines. For a moment he could almost feel his own shadow come alive, a dark and paler form of himself with crimson eyes breathing a black Death upon his cheek as he whispered. "Feed...you cannot deny us forever....feed and be free." It said to him. Vitalè remained near frozen as he blinked and laughed a little as he shook his head. He was a monster...but he was not treacherous one.

"Brandon...close your eyes and sing twinkle twinkle little star and I'll tell you when this is over." He said softly, caringly but somehow the hunger in his voice still slipping through. He looked back tot he werewolf and twisted his neck to the right, then the left causing a series of cracks. He began walking as if he were circling the wolf, in fact many would likely have suspected the wolf to be the one who circled, but that was not Vitalè's style of combat.

"I don't know why you want me to feed anyway... Because I think we both know if I feed from him It would be most unfortunate for you....Wouldn't it..." He said, his tongue flicking out to run a canine, polishing it with a slick grin on the Vampires face. "Old Yeller?" He snickered as he sped up to the Wolf, needing to duck down to avoid dreadful claws. Vitalè brought his right leg up and extended it into the werewolf's abdomen. The fierce calws of the second hand wrapped around Vitalè's leg, to which the Vampire hopped off of his "grounded" left foot and cracked the wolf in the jaw with his foot. The Were snarled as it staggered back, and while it let go of the Vampires' leg, it's claw left a rather large and deep gash into the leg. The Vampire hissed as his eyes narrowed.

Vitalè lunged and gave off a strong but small punch to the wolven shoulders to extend and push himself back and out of range of the claws. The wolf was faster than anticipated, and his swipe took to Vitalè's face. He felt the claws uprooting the flesh on his face like tearing plastic. Dark and unoxidized blood seeped form the wounds as he was sent spiraling and rolling through the air until he crashed through a tree, landing on the ground as the displaced tree fell to the ground. Vitalè pushed himself to fight the wounded leg and use whatever semblance of superhuman speed he had to run and snag Brandon, moving him out of the way. All the while Vitalè had lost sight of the wolf.

The werewolf gave a throaty chuckle, the vampire seemingly defensive upon how poorly fed he was. He truly did not feed on humans did he? Even he could smell the call of the blood, the need to feed upon the poor mutant, but he could control it for now, the city was full of flesh that he could devour, flesh that was nowhere as tough. ”You are too rich vampire.” He said between chuckles, one claw raking along the side of a tree as bark seemed to give under the strain of his own powerful claws, drawing deep grooves. It was even the way that he showed concern for the fool that amused this lupine predator. He was concerned for what should be his prey, that was the richest thing that he had ever seen; much like humans that decided to keep pigs as pets.
 
The hale however tried to take Vitales advice, closing his eyes yet the song itself did not really come to mind at the moment, so instead he opted to pass out. In unconsciousness he did not feel any pain, or whatever, so that was much better. Instead he could just kinda float about in darkness until he woke up again, and likely just hurt himself more. The vampire circled the golden eyed wolf while the oaf lay wounded against the splintered tree, blood slowly pouring from his wounds, some if it even being caught within the blonde bangs that hung down onto his forehead.
 
The fight had already geun, vampire charging the werewolf with his own superhuman speed, barely managing to dodge the claws that were aimed to take his head off with one swift swipe. It would have probably been over if that connected, but instead he found himself being struck with a knee and took that advantage to wrapped clawed hands around the leg that struck him. What loosened his grip was a powerful blow to his jaw, snarl ripping from his wolf lips as the claws raked across the vampires leg. This was a deadly fight and one where the precise blow could lead to death.
 
 The tousle continued and the vampire found himself thrown back by a powerful strike, one that damaged his face and threw him far back. Even with his preternatural strengths, he was not the powerful beast before him, one who hunted like a true animal. Infact he was running, once again trying to protect the little blonde. In a blur the wolf ran, through the bushes and around the fallen trees as he seemed to move about, like a whisper.
 
”How does it feel? To be so close to what you want, and yet so far away, held back by your pathetic morals.” The voice spoke, strangely plain. ”Drink, you are a predator aren’t you?” A tree rocked lightly and then violently as it seemed that something had perched within it, and then the wolf leapt onto the ground. Within the moonlight one could see what looked like painful burn scars from the right side of its face down along its side, white fur where scars did not mar it.
 
”Regardless of what is unfortunate for me, we are predators you and I. We kill and that’s how it is, it’s within our nature. You are no longer human, yet you keep trying to be one. You are really pathetic.”

. He is right...it is only blood. The shadow Vitalè said as he whispered within his own ear. He shuddered when this voice spoke, breathing a chill of death down his own spine. He has lost the creature, it was taunting him...toying with him. He was ridiculed for holding onto his humanity. Vitalè was frozen for a moment as he trusted on his sensory, detection of the proud Alpha wolf. No matter what he did though, he just couldn't shake the feeling he had. This wasn't about Brandon was it? What was going on here...this was all too coincidental to be coincident. He felt a soft hand on his back...but it wasn't there...no...he could tell. It was just a figment of his imagination. You need not even kill the boy....just a drink. Slake thy thirst...The blood is the Life. He said. So happenly the exact sane time he heard that, Vitalè's ears  fixated on the voice.

 You are no longer human, yet you keep trying to be one. You are really pathetic.” The wolf said. Vitalè laughed. It was as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life. His hand slapped against the ground. The shadow Vitalè backed away, eyes narrowed. Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you. And as I gave you the green plants, I give you everything. But you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood... Genesis... The Blood is the Sin, there is one way, one truth and one life. Vitalè though to himself, calming his nerves, recalling Genesis, chapter nine verses three and four. Out loud he was still laughing, as if the wolf had delivered a punchline. It took but only a moment more for the wolf to realize that the "pathetic" Vampire was laughing at him. Mocking him openly.

"You smell like a wet dog!" He kept laughing manically as he began gasping for air, he was laughing so hard. In all reality Vitalè was perfectly sound of mind, perfectly prepared and had a plan to survive the lupines next move.

”Adorable.” The werewolf said with a low growl, razor teeth flashing within the night as he crouched low. Yet the wolf did not move forward, it simply looked upon the damaged vampire, thinking to himself, words that he could hear. Sharp teeth gnashed, as it took a step forward, and tis influence over the poor blonde mutant stretched out. The laughter did not cow him, no, he seemed to be emboldened by it, laughing along with the manic vampire. ”Come now Brandon, you know who you belong to.” His voice now sounded gruff, yet smooth and seductive within its own right. The blonde within the vampires grasp squirmed, freeing himself and falling to the ground.
 

”Yes, come closer to me.” That low rumble said, reverberating through the night air calmly. He would have, but the male was weak, if not from blood loss, it as his own squeamishness towards blood. Maybe something about him wanted to go forward, and another part wanted to run away from him, something about that near limitless stamina thing did not apply here. Yet that feeling within his gut wanted him to be near the werewolf, as if that would stop the painful burning forever, yet he knew also that it would not, or would it? ”Drink vampire, what is the life of a mortal when weighed against an immortals?” It took a step forward, eyes boring into the vampires.

He commanded Brandon to follow him. Vitalè glared into the boy's eyes, his vampiric hypnosis taking into effect. He commanded the child to sleep, and hopefully with his cognitive and subcognitive thinking "reprogramed" through the hypnosis. He couldn't do much at this rate...lest he risk his plan. He just laughed. The wolf seemed to enjoy the manic version of Vitalè. He stopped laughing as the werewolf approached and glared into his eyes. Vitalè smiled slightly and scoffed, looking to the ground, almost as if he were questioning himself. In truth he was, but not as the werewolf might have believed. Vitalè roared as he punched the ground, then clutched his chest. Pain jolting through his body at the moment when he felt it kick in.

   When he clutched his chest, he also grasped through his shirt. His eyes shot around and then he looked back into the werewolves eyes. He chuckled and shook his head. The vampire was proficient in playing the tormented soul...well he would have been...had it been a game that one "played". There was too much going on, three large fierce jagged slashes over his face, his hunger only growing. He felt like he was going to snap right there and then. It's only blood...blood is precious...Blood IS Life. Was it not Blood which was shed for your sins? His blood was spilled so that you may feast and be redeemed. The shadowing figure stated. Vitalè hesitated for a moment. Turmoil raged within, but he refused to fall. He remembered the temptations of the forest. Even the Demons and Devil knew the scripture....why would any devil ESPECIALLY HIS demon be any different?

   "I'm...If I give up my humanity...then what am I more than a monster?" He asked, his eyes seeming pathetic when they looked into the werewolf.  "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...I fear no evil..." Vitalè's hand shifted, and the were knew exactly what had happened, but by time he noticed it... it was too late. Using his hypnotic powers he found himself unable to dominate the strong mind, but he needed not dominate it, only delay the reaction time half a second. With his Jux, Vitalè was able to mimic the were's "explosive" speed and swift movements. Vitalè's clasping of the chest proved to be more than simply effect. He took the cross...the silver cross. Yanking it from his chain he jabbed the were in the throat, missing the jugular, but being able to cause a little tear. Using his "friend's" superior strength against him he held the beats triceps at bay and opened his mouth. Normally a weakened vampire like Vitalè would be unable to pierce the hide of such a powerful werebeing. The slash on the throat allowed Vitalè to latch on and simply suck form a wound already present. The wolf could only try to snap at him and move, but as he moved so did the vampire. Wrinkles fading as the wolf howled and viciously attempted to break free, greying hair turned a charcoal black in the midnight sky...and fangs returning to their normal strength as Vitalè's skin color returned to a rather tanned pigment, wounds on his face closing up.

   Vitalè pulled away, mouth and beard caked in were-blood and a rather satisfied smile on his face, He brought his foot up. The were avoided with skill and primal instinct, but Vitalè moved, proving much faster than before. Vitalè zipped around the Were, then moving in front of him, sweeping his legs. The wolf would have recovered if Vitalè had not thrown a force palm, sending the creature back. The creature proved to be more skilled than it let on however, adapting well to the situation and catching itself on a tree before glaring to Vitalè.

   "Because I am the baddest Di esibirci to walk the path." Vitalè said a smirk, taunting the were.

Within a matter of moments Brandon found himself falling deeply into sleep, perhaps the hypnosis played apart in that, but maybe it was also the blood loss getting to him. The werewolf watched the scene with amusement, as if the male showing such compassion to something lesser than him were just a great joke to him. Shadows move about the area, indistinct in their shape, but filled with deadly intent nonetheless. However it did not expect the attack, and the subsequent feeding a sit lashed out at the vampire, attempting to rip him apart with powerful teeth and in the end finding himself overpowered.
 
Managing to catch itself, the werewolf used the tree that bent under the strain as a catch, landing upon the ground once again. ”No, you are the greatest fool around.” He said with a loud snarl as these shadows came into view, a pack of wolves of various color. Even within his sleep, Brandon began to toss and turn, seeming to moan lightly in pain as hands pressed over his stomach, over the scars. ”It’s time you meet the wild hunt.” These wolves circled around the vampire, as the white wolf simply seemed to throw its muscled arms out to the side, and a howl ripped from his mouth.
 
”Rip him apart, and bring me the boy.” He said simply and in a blur the wolves would rush Vitale.

"I'm the fool? The most proper way to say that sentence is "It's time you've met"... *tsk* *tsk* *tsk*... I thought better of you my old friend....or shall I call you by your name... Romulus?" Vitalè asked. Proving he finally remembered the name with his face. These two had a certain history...one that was not worth repeating. Not for what was demanded of Vitalè who just smiled as he was surrounded by wolves that were all leering. He chuckled, his confidence almost overbearing. There was no fear to be smelled, there was only a tick of excitement.

     ”Rip him apart, and bring me the boy.” the one Vitalè knew as Romulus would command. Vitalè's nails would turn harder than bone as they extended and his fangs became all the more overbearing. He chuckled as he rolled his eyes and his head turned to the side. In a blur, several wolves moved at once. Vitalè was no stranger to combat, expect with a Lycan's pack. They moved in perfect tandum, as if they were all Cells in the same body, linked to the hive-mind that was their master. They shared information, they evolved and adapted in every battle. The most dreaded thing about fighting a Lycan's pack... it forced Vitalè to forsake his morality ever so slightly. Against a pack, Killing the members was the only way to ensure your survival. To try and endure was to tempt Death, for they learned and adapted to quickly overcome the prey. The first movement and Vitalè reacted. The first turn he made was a side-step with an extended arm as the wolf now lunged into vampiric "talons" that drug across it's right eye. Another jumped at his back, but he turned and whipped his cloak to slap the creature in the face and conceal the heel of his foot as it cracked across the side of the things head, claws raking another mongrel slicing open the creatures throat. Vitalè ran up to meet another with a backhand that snapped it's neck and sent it hurdling towards another, causing it to jump out of the way, buying the vampire another vital second. Though was it enough. Two wolves managed to get to the Vampire. One latching onto his left shoulder. One to his left let. Pristine fangs tearing through old Victorian dressing and pin-stripped suit pants. Large chunks of Flesh were torn from and Vitalè howled with a loud high-pitched screech that could cause mortal's ears to bleed. His hand slashed up as he back-handed the one wolf, causing no real damage other than enough force to remove the foul beast. The second wolf he reached up with his free hand and took it by it's hine-leg and lifted it, showing fanges as he buried his face into the creatures side with a bite. The wolf yelped in pain as it released the vampire. Vitalè had not fed, only harmed and not even fatally at that.

Vitalè was powerful, and in all reality had he followed the example of a predator like Romulus, he would have indeed been more than powerful enough to deal with the pack single-handedly. Then again, he would not have Brandon to worry about... and now...the wolves tasted blood. He thought about what was ordered. They were to rip him apart and bring Romulus the boy that Vitalè knew as Brandon. It was not a satisfying idea, but he knew what he needed to do. His tongue flicking over his pristine fangs as he charged the remainder of the pack. A jab to the chest to one, a side step and grabbing the tail of the second as it passed, and then proceeding to diagonally slash from upper right to lower left, using wolf number two to beat down wolf three in mid lunge. He proceeded with wolf in his right hand, spinning it over his head like it was a morning star, not allowing the creature the ability to get it's paws on any firm area, preventing it the chance to do anything but howl out in a rather funny manner, and yelp when it was used to beat down another pack member. Vitalè had hit wolves four and five as he ran up to Brandon, speeding with a wolf in his hand. He dropped the wolf, that staggered and tried to move, but ultimately fell down whining. "Good dog." He said as he left the wolf to pass out. Four members of the pack dead, one unconscious and Brandon still bleeding out. If Vitalè's nose was right, Brandon didn't have much time left. He would need to finish things up rather quickly.

He heard a cry in pain, his head whipped around to find a wolf biting into Brandon, probably in attempts to drag him off. Vitalè moved instinctively as he brought his hand up at shoulder level before thrusting it forward. The wolf yelped as Vitalè's hand thrusted through the fur, the spine of the beast now in the palm of his hand as his claws destroyed the insides of the beast, culling away tissue and turning the gaping hole to look like that of bloody salmon in a blender. The wolf let go and Vitalè ripped his hand out, a sickening snap echoing through the woods and a pained yelp, like a puppy had just been kicked. Vitalè pulled out a piece of splintered spine and turned, throwing it like a throwing knife at a wolf who had lunged mid-air. The bone caught he things shoulder, causing it to recoil in mid air and drop to the ground. Vitalè rushed up, punted the thing up into the air, moving so quickly as to nearly flash into the air and grab the thing's throat and slaming it into the ground.

Vitalè looked up and glared right into Romulus eyes, his cloak falling over the mid-section up on the wolf. His eyes not taking them off of the were's as his free hand came up to the beasts' jaw. With out looking away there was a loud bloodcurdling yelps and constant whining as if someone had slowly drug a knife down the thing's side. There was a loud snap and tearing noise and the whining ceased. Vitalè stood up, revealing that the wolf's lower jaw had been severed and the fur and skin had been peeled from the throat down into the chest, where the rib cage had been ripped open. Bones splintered as blood began to form in a puddle beneath the cloak that greedily soaked up the liquid.

Vitalè moved forward, the cloak opening slightly and forming around the arm what was produced with a spazzing heart that had yet to "understand" it was no longer connected in his hand. Vitalè dropped the hear onto the ground, a feigned look of concern on his face as it sloshed to the ground. "Whoops." He said softly, dress-shoe moving forward and stomping on the heart. He hissed at the remaining number of wolves. His own wounds few, but detrimental, and though five of them are dead, there was still at least 8 of them untouched...and 10 still able to fight. He may need to feed again at this rate. The hunger was returning...but he needed to fight it.

Romulus drunk in the slaughter of his pack with a certain exultation, as if wanting Vitale to do exactly what he did. The execution was both visceral and in a way lovely, the werewolf chuckling loudly as each one of his wolves tossed themselves as this vampire, and slowly whittled him away. Even if he managed to do such damage to his precious pack, the being could easily replenish that which was taken from him, and if he let them continue, this vampire would be dead and the mutant would belong to him yet he did not feel like letting it end yet. ’Stop all of you.” He said with a harsh growl as the wolves paused, two wounded slightly but all ready to resume combat, yet he did not want it to be so. He noticed that the vampire had forced the boy to fall asleep, and within that empty mind he would find more peace than this battlefield would allow him, in reality he was not safe.
 
 ”If you were to continue fighting within your condition, all that waits for you is death vampire. As strong as you wish to appear, you lack the power needed, within your starved state. It’s only a matter of time.” He said with narrowed eyes, a devious smirk forming along his lupine face. ’However I won’t be the one to do it, not tonight.” His growling tone lilted through the forest as one could see the size of the wolfish creature begin to diminish, replaced by what looked like a man, face still marred by burn scars. Looking to the fallen Mutant, the golden eyes shone within the darkness, the only real feature discernable. ’He’s dying, bleeding out like a stuck pig.” He noted with a light throaty chuckle. The wolves circled around Romulus, sulking it would seem as they glared at Vitale.
 

”I’ll be watching him however. His time is near, whether he dies of blood loss or simply gives in to what I’ve marked him with, you cannot save him.”There was a soft breewze that rustled the elaves of a tree above him. ”No one can.” IN a blur he was gone, along with the wolves, yet the howling would echo through the night.