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THE TASTE OF TERROR

Chapter 5: Thunderbolt Moments

Can I resist much longer?

It's become a something of a personal challenge, really: how long can I look, but not touch? How close can I come to him - and I think he'd be surprised at how close it's been sometimes, close enough to experience the mere inches separating my dark claws from his snowy fur, soft and silky. Close enough to take long, ravenous breaths of his scent, so young and fresh and utterly heart-stoppingly delicious. Close enough to sense the waves of raw misery pulsing out from him with every silent sob, with every beat of his delicate, doomed heart, and all without a whisper to his awareness - before I lose control? How much longer can I prolong this tortuous ecstasy, of time and time's passing, before my cruel and hungry desires - my need - overwhelms even my iron self will, and I give in at last to the ache, the desire, the hunger.

Oh yes. The hunger. My mind knows that my otherworldly body requires no sustenance of any kind. It knows that I could dive to the deepest darknesses of this world's oceans and my lungs would barely twinge, that I could bury myself alive in rock and emerge after millennia without so much as an ounce lost from my massive yet streamlined frame. It knows that I touch this world lightly, as befits one who is not of it. One who is... other...

(Voidtouched - the word, the name flickers, hissing and insidious, in the cathedral of my consciousness, but I can toss it away with barely a thought. everything is nothing now. everything but him. him. my prey, whose name I do not speak, even mentally, for fear that the sweet sound will consume me entirely. my beloved.)

_ _

Yes... my stomach cares nothing for such fanciful notions. All it knows is the hunger. The yawning abyss within my belly, that craves warm flesh to share it's humid confines, not filled for months now - not since our last tender encounter.

I feel a shiver run through my dark form, marvelling at the memory alone, and speak silently, wondering if he will hear me in his grief. Oh, little one. I need you again. I need you so much it hurts: a joyous agony that goes beyond anything I could inflict on you.

_ _

Heh. I laugh softly, rolling over lazily onto my side on the rooftop I am perched on. Is that justification? Is that my own reasoning for all that I have done? A simple case of ethics: the pain of knowing that something as exquisitely perfect as this young creature exists, versus the pain of my games with him?

No. Every second I have experienced of his mind tells me otherwise: the terror I have inspired in such a beautiful soul is just unforgivable in every way possible. Their little Authority preaches that to murder another sentient being is the highest crime. I know that they are - almost - right. To take a life is cruel, but to inspire such despair in one so hopeful and so gently flawless, to break him in every manner, mental, emotional and physical, and then to deny him death's final peace... what I have done is so evil that my great heart thumps with passionate emotion - perhaps pleasure, joy, hatred or horror - at the thought of it. I am a monster, in word and in deed.

The knowledge only makes my ecstasy all the more exquisite.

But do not dream of that now. I close my eyes, sunning myself in the warmth of this tropical climate with a soft purr of pleasure. A entire continent away from my quarry: I find that distance is the best failsafe against succumbing to my lusts. For now, I simply want to dwell on the matter without risk of falling prey to the hunger.

Below, the chatter of birdsong and the chatter of this small Arwraki village's inhabitants seem to meld into one another, bustling on the edge of the great jungle. Blind to the impossibility that dozes lazily upon the roof of their small town hall, going about their exquisite little lives with not the slightest idea of the inherent fragility of it all.

But they don't matter.

I shift comfortably, my sleek feathers soaking up the sun, and decide to permit myself a few seconds with his mind. Across all these miles of land, I can still sense it - poor clarity, a weak substitute for the beauty of his terror when I am close enough to feel his terrified heartbeat fluttering against my chest, but enough to whet my appetite for the momen-

Ah.

Oh dear.

Cold. A cold that seems utterly alien in concept from here, with my sleek form enveloped in tropical warmth. But it sings out to me across the miles of country and roads and forest and what is apparently termed "civilization", like a knife in the wind. And now I remember the delicate fragility of him that screams it's vulnerability every time I so much as look: his heart seeming so weak, fluttering with terror. So weak.

Imagine the sudden lethal silence if it just stopped right now...

Oh, Alex. You can't let the world do this to you. You're mine, little one. Don't try to imagine that anything else can gain any sort of power over you, because I won't let it.

Little one...

I spread my dark wings, muscles tensing for the leap, a feral smirk of anticipation all that betrays the sudden rush of ecstasy: for the waiting is over. It's time to give in to my lusts at last.

With an avian roar of joy, I leap into the air. Perhaps my telepathic wards buckle under the force of ravenous emotion, and some stunned individual below catches sight of my black-feathered form as I wing my way skywards. I do not care. I am a predator, and my prey is the most perfect thing in the whole of creation. What else can possibly matter?

The air blurs with speed and excitement, and a primal screech erupts from my throat as I fly, of pleasure's total zenith. A battlecry triumphant.

"HE... IS... MINE!"

***

He woke. Slowly.

And that was odd. Normally, waking up came fast and sudden, with a half-sobbed scream tearing itself, raw and ragged, from his throat. His eyes would slam open, wide with fear and aching with the tears of the night, the horrors of what it had held still etched into his retinas. Every hair of his snowy fur would be standing on end, shivering with terror as he gasped for breath, hunching over and clutching his tail close as he wept in the early morning dawn, wept with hopelessness and rage and grief for his doomed life.

Not this time. This time, his mind seemed unwilling to leave the embrace of unconsciousness, and he blinked slowly as his eyes opened, weak and tremulous. Alex felt a soft keening noise escape from his throat; he realised his arms were clasped around him, that his soft fur was plastered to his skin. He whimpered confusedly, trying to look around, and almost fell over with alarm as a bolt of brilliant energy split the sky in half. And then he realised that he was cold.

The fox felt his teeth begin to chatter instantly, as if simply waiting for their cue. He was soaked to the skin, his thin shirt doing nothing to protect him from the downpour. His every bone ached with the chill.

But... where...?

A storm was raging over the city. Lightning arced across the skies. Rain lashed at the buildings, at the surrounding mountains, at the shivering vulpine, with a vicious iciness inherent in every drop. The wind wailed as it wound sinuously through the trees that surrounded the plateau that Alex was curled up on, looking down on the city. The temperature had clearly been dropping for some time. It kept dropping.

He gasped, scrambling up hurriedly, his limbs shaking and his ears drooping with alarm - and spluttered as another wave of sleeting water drenched him, soaking him to the skin, and his exhausted memory conjured up a bewildered answer.

"Oh..." There didn't seem to be much else that he could say.

Alex swallowed, wiping the water from his eyes, and stared hard at the city below. He knew that it was about an hour and a half of hard, rock-strewn hiking to get back - and that had been this morning, when it had been cold and crisp, slightly overcast, but clear and relatively dry. He'd trekked up here in the pale sun of the early morning sun, taking a feeble satisfaction from the physical exertion as the strain of his muscles distracted him from... no. Don't think of it. Even now, bleary eyed and confused, dripping with rainwater and beginning to shiver uncontrollably, he felt his thoughts convulse in horror at the idea alone: dark feathers, a voice so smooth and tender, warm, musky silkiness - and those eyes. Always watching, golden and blazing and burning and gloating at him and laughing and-

_ _

"No!" He took a step forwards, stumbled and slipped on the wet rock, and promptly fell over, uttering a surprised wail. Alex realised that he couldn't feel his toes, that his teeth were chattering so hard that his vision was starting to blur, and as he moved to pick himself up, his head spun and he collapsed again, whimpering quietly as his muscles started to ache from the shivering. So cold.

Thunder rolled in the distance, as if grumbling it's vindictive amusement.

He'd been coming up here more and more often now. There was something desperately secluded about the mountainous plateau: isolated and alone, an open-air sanctum for his grief. He'd hike up to the rocky outcrop early in the morning, not taking anything but some lunch and a bottle of water, and simply collapse on the hard stone, letting the misery consume him entirely for hours on end. The surrounding trees would ring with the weak echoes of his sobs, curled up with eyes screwed shut and shoulders shaking.

After his tears had dried, however, he'd actually feel quite a bit better, and for the first time in months, he'd been able to sleep properly, reclining on the sun-warmed granite, still except for the occasional whimper. The nightmares still came, but they were almost bearable now, and when he woke, he'd feel actually rested.

Had he been healing?

The eyes smirked cruelly behind his mind, remembering his agonies. No. Just a brief respite, so that the next time will be all the sweeter.

_ _

No! He couldn't think of that - couldn't, because to think is to return to that dark, luxuriant embrace, crying into the musky blackness as his killer's murderous talons caressed his trembling form gently, a tenderness utterly at odds with the huge monstrosity that enfolded him... no! Alex groaned as he tried to lever himself up, rubbing his paws up and down on his bare arms - bare? What the hell were you thinking, you cretin - in an attempt to shift some of the numbness. It didn't work.

He froze, his eyes widening, as he realised the danger at last.

"Oh no. I don't... I can't..."

Hypothermia. It seemed so ridiculous that he laughed, a tremulous giggle that had nothing whatsoever to do with true mirth. Die like this, in the cold of the storm? Maybe that was better. A death that happened peacefully, that only came for him once. Just slip into the darkness, and maybe he won't be able to bring you back... Isn't that your only hope now? That you might be able to die forever?

"NO!" Alex spat the word out bitterly, slamming a fist into his temple. The pain dizzied him, but it sharpened his mind too, lifting some of the fog of chill numbness. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't let himself die. No matter what... he couldn't... he just couldn't. The fox stumbled to his feet, dimly aware that his ears were ringing, and took a step forwards, towards the edge of the trail where he had walked up to here, still dripping. A flash of lightning split the sky in two. It hurt his eyes, and he found himself wanting to close them, to block out all the light and the noise and the horror. He was so exhaustedly tired of all this. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep forever, shelter from the storm that was tearing him apart. Sleep...

"Oh, no. I don't think so."

And suddenly, Alex wasn't tired any more.

Pure, heart-stopping terror can do that to a person.

He could almost feel the spurt as adrenaline exploded into his bloodstream, tearing his heart rate up to the speed of horror. A rumble of thunder slammed in his ears, deafeningly loud amidst the staccato chorus of the rain, but could he hear it? As that soft voice echoed away into the deepest recesses of his mind, seeding fear and despair in every corner... did anything else matter now?

A single tear mixing with the downpour of all the rain, he looked slowly around, dreading what he would see.

There was nothing.

Rain buffeted the fox's skull, but nothing moved save for the roiling clouds above and the wind-lashed trees around him. He hesitated, his breath coming shallowly, and stood there, alone in the middle of the plateau as the storm churned overhead and his heart screamed in his ears. The vulpine felt his gaze darting over rocks, and trees, and still nothing, not a whisper, not a feather. He slumped forwards, almost falling straight over. Alex collapsed to his knees, his shoulders heaving, and felt his tongue mumble his delirious relief, his head hanging.

"Just your imagination, okay? It's not - h-h-he's not... he's not here-"

"Aren't I?"

He tried to look up, the scream about to erupt from his throat, and Damian smiled at him from inches away, his eyes of golden flame and incandescent cruelty smouldering with delight, and reached out to caress the tip of his prey's ear with an impossible tenderness.

All that escaped the fox's lips was a choked whimper.

The gryphon gazed deep into his wide eyes for a moment, remaining utterly still as a dark talon tickled the tufts at the tips of his quarry's trembling ears. Then he spoke, savouring every syllable, his eyes half-closed with pleasure.

"Hello, Alex."

And the calm was finished. The real storm broke.

Alex screamed, scrambling away on his hands and knees. He couldn't even think: his entire mind aflame with a silent howl of terror that had no words, for there was no space for words in this sudden explosion of despair and fear. He staggered up, slipped on the cold slickness of the stone, and fell over with arms and legs flailing, his head about to crack hard into the rocky ground, and the huge gryphon pounced and caught him with an avian roar of pleasure, protecting him from the hard stone even as he crushed him into his silky fur. Alex shrieked with anguish, trying frantically to push away until his shivering muscles ached, but the gryphon didn't even register his struggles. Damian sat down languidly, wings spread above him to shield them both from the rain, and hugged his plaything close, purring low in his throat. The fox whimpered at his touch, burying himself in the thick silkiness of his murderer's feathers as he felt a small, shocked sob tremble through him.

And then a traitorous gasp of relief escaped his amidst whimpers, and his limbs clutched at the gryphon's chest, pulling him inadvertently into Damian's silky fur. It was just so warm, and he felt the icy chill in his bones begin to recede at last as the warmth spread through him. His predator dipped his sleek head to breathe in his scent, nuzzling at his dripping fur, and a soft growl was all that betrayed the cruel ecstasy Alex knew his murderer was feeling.

"Please..." he whispered, once his teeth had stopped chattering, not daring to look up. "I don't... I - I can't..."

"Wait..." The gryphon's claws gently stroked over the sleek contours of his prey's body. "I can't begin to say how much I've ached for you, little one. Give me just a moment to feel you again..." Damian purred softly with a terrible, ravenous pleasure, his cruel talons so gentle in their caresses: for the moment. Alex didn't dare look up, feeling a dry, almost mechanical sob shudder through him as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the warmth and the terror for a moment.

"No!" He yelped with rage, scrabbling weakly at the gryphon's iron grip, and bit his tongue hard with anger at himself. He couldn't surrender. He had to, to try to keep going. He - he had to.

"Yes." Damian murmured softly, nipping coyly at one of the fox's ears with a soft purr in his low voice. "You have to keep trying, don't you, Alex? You can't just accept your fate like this. You have to struggle. You have to have hope." Alex cracked open a tearful eye to find the gryphon's unholy eyes inches away, the blazing gold transfixing him so much that he couldn't even whimper. Damian smiled tenderly, and whispered sensuously, his musky, exotic sent washing over the fox and making Alex moan with terror, "And that's why I love you so much."

"No... I.... just - shut up..." he wailed, the sobs now starting to come freely. "H-How can... how can y-you do t-t-this to me?...Just... how?..."

"Sssh, little one." the impossible creature interrupted coolly. "I have a question or two for you as well." He clasped one smooth-scaled claw around Alex's chin, gently but firmly pulling him up to look eye to burning eye. "Alex, my dear... what were you thinking? Outside, in this storm? Wearing only that?" he nodded at the fox's sparse apparel, still dripping wet, and added, "Ah. Of course. I'm so sorry. Let's dry you off a bit, shall we?"

"Wha-" and then Alex stiffened with terror, feeling th gryphon's talons tear roughly across his back, millimetres from the flesh that he knew from experience would part like water, staining his virgin fur scarlet - but the razor-sharp claws only grazed his skin, ripping through his flimsy shirt like paper. He squirmed uselessly, trying to deny Damian anything he could - but there was nothing, it seemed, that could fall into that category. The fabric was tossed aside in shreds, baring his chest. The soft white fur was still damp with rain, but then the gryphon clasped him to his great chest again, the luxuriant warmth soaking into his fur. He groaned with pathetic relief, feeling the numbing chill in his ribcage flee him at last, and tried again.

"Look... please. Don't - you don't have to, to d-do this..."

"Nonono..." a dark claw snapped around his muzzle, clamping it shut. "You haven't answered, Alex. Why in the world were you out here?"

"I don't - "

"Alex." Damian's growl rumbled through his entire body - although the fox was already shaking with fear and suppressed sobs - and he raised his head, ears drooped and trembling. The gryphon tutted lazily at him, his voice quiet and friendly. "You haven't answered. That's discourteous. If you continue to be so, I will respond in kind, and we will be forced to have this delightful conversation minus one - or more - of your limbs." Alex stared at him, open mouthed, and Damian raised an eyebrow in response, one claw calmly reaching out to grasp hold of the fox's left arm. Alex swallowed, and he knew that the killer was being entirely, mercilessly honest. His voice trembled.

"I... I d-don't know why..."

Damian seemed to relax slightly, his claws returning to their patient caresses of the vulpine's trembling fur. It was almost... soothing, and Alex realised with a spurt of self-loathing that he was arching his bare back against the strokes. He snarled with futile rage, squirming away, and his tormentor chuckled softly, nuzzling his still-damp chestfur with a satisfied purr. "I know you don't know. But try to put it into words. Just try... for me, little one."

How could his voice sound so tender? Alex felt bile rise in his throat, but choked it back down as he pummelled his unwilling tongue into halting, hesitant speech. "I-I don't know... it just seemed like a place where I could - where I could just - "

"Where you could give in." Damian took a deep, hungry breath, massive lungs working beneath his dark chest, taking in the scent of his quarry. His smooth voice shivered slightly as he spoke again, the cruel joy inherent in it so great that it seeded a crystal tear at the edge of Alex's blue eyes: diamond on sapphire. "A place where you could stop fighting, where you could give in to the misery entirely... where you could accept that your life is a hollow lie: a facade lived only for my depraved pleasure."

The vulpine opened his mouth, but no sound came. "I don't want to..." he whispered at last, the storm around forgotten in this monstrous peace. "Just...please don't..."

Damian ignored him, a soft purr rumbling through his great chest, and began to nuzzle his shoulders, his hooked beak snuggling hungrily into Alex's snowy fur. The fox whimpered, shying away -

• and then he felt it.

He hardly dared breathe, lest his captor catch hint that something was amiss. Alex swallowed, trembling in the gryphon's brutally gentle embrace, and shifted his legs, very, very slightly.

Yes, it was there. Pressing lightly against him through the pocket of his sodden trousers, forgotten for months in the haze of grief and rage and pain. But there. So close.

Slowly, he inched his paw towards his pocket, taking a fearful glance at the gryphon - but Damian hadn't reacted, his blazing golden eyes closed as he purred, nuzzling the vulpine - tasting his scent after so many months, Alex thought bitterly, relishing the feeling of his soft fur after so long. He hesitated, remembering all the telepathic abilities the monster had displayed before... but surely then, Damian would have moved to stop him. Instead, the murderer simply growled low with pleasure, snuggling his plaything with an almost birdlike chirp of satisfaction. Alex remained frozen for a moment, trying to gauge the gryphon's knowledge... but surely he would have at least reacted. Yes. Damian must be unaware. The fox choked down his whimper, and edged his hand closer.

It had been a moment of wild fury, months ago, during a spate when he'd been unable to sleep, unable to think, unable to do anything but pace up and down, fists clenched, blood boiling with hopeless rage, feeling sick, sick with the dull, red-hot anger that burned slowly throughout his entire body: exhausted, but too scared, too livid, to possibly go to sleep. He'd raved at the silent walls like a lunatic, drunk on anger and hopelessness, his thoughts chasing themselves in vicious circles that returned always, always, to the same, utterly inevitable conclusion: he was doomed. Utterly.

And then he'd seen the paper. The latest updates on the Mr Knives case, apparently - he had followed it with interest for a while, professing a desire to take a closer look at the Authority's justice system, but knowing in his heart that in reality, his head was filling with ludicrous fantasies of the tall, slender wolf - Finnley Sharpe, his name had been, had been - replaced with the massive, dark-feathered form of his murderer...

Of course, he knew the idea was ridiculous. You couldn't try to take the idea of "justice", a staple and pillar of the Authority's ideology since the Founding itself, a concept that was society, that was civilization, and hope to reconcile it with this titanic mythological beast who read his thoughts and moved faster than he could blink and snapped his bones like twigs in the wind and knew him, knew him perfectly. Knew him better than he did. And this horrific creature had murdered him, slowly, intimately, excruciatingly, four times over (and soon to be five, cackled his own mind with a horrible masochistic glee as he blinked back fearful tears), and he'd seen those eyes, burning and blazing and golden as the sun, and knew that Damian felt not the tiniest shred of remorse.

And then he saw the word "Knives" in the headline, in print big and black, so brutal in it's subject... and it had struck a high, hard chord within him. And with a snarl twisting his slender muzzle, he had reached into the kitchen drawer, and took one, clenching his fist around the handle so hard that it hurt.

Alex had half expected the gryphon to appear, to attack him: furious at his prey's impudence at defying his fate... but there had been nothing. It didn't matter, because a few moments later he had almost heard it as the switch clicked deep within him and he slumped against the wall, beginning to cry once more, his rage forgotten under the delirious grief and hopeless misery.

But not before he'd dropped the blade into his pocket.

And now...

The fox swallowed, and cautiously slipped his paw inside, expecting at any moment the soft voice of his tormentor, hardened in anger and cruel intent... but Damian simply growled softly, his beak still nuzzling his toy with a tenderness born, the vulpine knew, of ravenous hunger. Alex closed his fingers around the handle, warmed by the heat of his body - and by the gryphon's body warmth as well - and shifted it slightly. Yes, it was there: he could feel the blade pressing against his thigh. He didn't dare to look down at it.

"Aw..." Damian murmured, chuckling softly as the fox stiffened with terror - oh god he knows, he knows everything - but then he continued, "...no more pleading? Come now, Alex. Indulge your only hope: my... mercy." The gryphon snickered coolly as he spoke, and Alex tried not to think about what he was doing, imagining the monstrosity prying open his thoughts and seeing his fear... but Damian was still. The vulpine trembled, one paw clutching the knife and the other clutching at himself, shivering as the air's cold dampness struck those parts of him not pressed against the warmth of the gryphon's silky feathers. "I... I hate you... s-so much..." he whispered weakly.

"Oh?" Damian eyed him playfully, his terrible orbs of incandescent golden sadism seeming to laugh mockingly at him. "Well, don't worry. I love you, Alex. So much. So much that I can't possibly let you live." He waggled a dark eyebrow, and dipped his massive head to nuzzle hungrily at the fox's bare white-furred stomach, purring low in his throat as he tasted his prey's scent.

"Y-Yeah?" whimpered Alex, his voice shaking with terrified emotion. He stared, biting back a sob, at the point where the gryphon's huge skull melded smoothly into his spine, enveloped with sleek black feathers, and clenched his fist. A sudden explosion of brilliant lightning sent it into black and white shadows, illuminating everything and half-blinding him. Alex swallowed, his eyes squinting through the tears, and whispered, "W-well... now it's... it's your bloody turn!"

And with a speed born of all-consuming terror, his hand whipped out, clutching the blade - glinting dull grey in the light of the storm - and he stabbed it down, with all his strength, straight into Damian's neck. It sank in to the hilt.

The gryphon screeched, rearing up and slamming the vulpine's body down beneath his massive claws - but Alex barely noticed the pain and grazes. He stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, up at his tormentor, his thoughts paralyzed with terror and hope and confusion, watching the monster roar again, head arched to the churning skies above -

• but it was not pain.

Damian was laughing.

He shook his head, splattering water everywhere - but no blood, not a trace of sanguine liquids - and uttered another great howl of laughter, his massive shoulders shaking with cruel hilarity. Alex stared up at him, horrified and terrified, not daring to move, and the gryphon kept laughing, his great tufted ears slicked back by the rain, shuddering with glee.

Slowly, the great cackling whoops subsided, and the killer grinned, sitting down lazily - trapping his stunned prey again upon the cold, hard stone- and winked down at him.

"Oh, little one. That was utterly magnificent."

_ _

Alex stared at him, feeling the tears beginning to flow but - they were lost amidst the rain that poured down over the both."H-how... y-y-you can't..."

Damian shrugged, still grinning with a hideously euphoric playfulness. "Take a look at the blade, Alex." he called out over the rain, chuckling as Alex blinked in confused terror and realised that the knife was still clutched in his paw. He swallowed, and, shaking with bewilderment and fear, brought the knife level with his eyes - but even before he looked, he could feel his mind hissing at him: "glinted dull grey"? You know that knife, Alex. It's steel, and it shines like a mirror. It's not dull. It's not grey.

_ _

The knife was curiously light in his hand, the blade a dull, gunmetal colour. And it was plastic. Alex stared at it, and the gryphon carefully reached down with one claw and tapped the blade on the point, chuckling playfully as it slid into the handle - hollow, allowing the wielder to plunge it convincingly into an opponent's back or chest (or in this case, the gryphon's neck), but with no harm caused - and with a spring inside that pushed it out again with a slight boing noise. It was the most hopeless sound Alex had ever heard in his entire life.

He gazed numbly at it for another full minute, unable to speak, before he realized that there was a small label dangling down, fluttering in the wind.

King's Theatrical Supplies, it proclaimed proudly. "Bringing the story to life". And next to it, in an absurdly elegant copperplate hand, was written:

I'm afraid not, little one.

The fox looked at it, and felt the tears begin to pour down his face as Damian lifted him up into his warm embrace again, whispering tenderly into his shaking ear.

"I replaced it the same night that you put it in there. I knew you had it in your pocket the moment that you realized, Alex. I let you dream... just so I could annihilate it all." He chuckled gently, pressing his plaything's body against his luxuriantly feathered chest, and added, "Please, try and kill me again sometime. It's absolutely glorious."

And only then did Alex begin to sob.

***

What is time to one such as I? I do not age. I do not eat, or sleep, or breathe. I certainly do not get bored. In all essential respects, I suppose, I am immortal. A year's or even a decade's passing will affect me not. Time is powerless to change me...

But not now. Here, as I feel the fragile form of my victim, huddled and weeping in my careful embrace, every second that goes by pains me. For every second is an inferno of dark ecstasy, warm and trembling amidst the storm, and when it is gone... then I know that I am one step closer to the point where my joy and pleasure, my lust and my hunger, grow too strong to resist. And then it will all end.

So I savour these moments of hideous calm, as my prey cries weak, hopeless tears into the silkiness of my feathers, like no other in my considerable life: for they are simply the most exquisite and the most perfect moments I have ever experienced. The rain beats down upon my wings, pattering onto my sleek feathers. Lightning paints the sky brilliant white and grounds a mere five hundred or so feet from where we are huddled, our forms pressed close enough for his pure fur to meld into my midnight feathers. Thunder roars it's fury across the mountains, clashing with the very air itself. But in the eye of the storm, I hug Alex close and feel myself groan quietly with sheer, all consuming ecstasy.

The little fox shifts in my arms, shuddering with the force of his sobs, and buries himself in the musky warmth of my chest: deep enough into the thick feathers and fur to hear my growl of pleasure that drowns out the crack-boom of thunder, and deeper still, the great slow pulse of my massive heart. I probe his mind, feeling my mind and body alike shake with pleasure as I glimpse it's beauty, and dance through the terror and hopelessness that smoulders within it. He is not just beautiful, in this state of fear and anguish. He is beauty.

Another jagged scream of lightning strikes a mountain a few miles away, blinding the world in dazzling electricity... but neither of us are looking. Alex is still crushed into the warmth of my chestfur, and I have closed my eyes and flattened my ears, the better to appreciate every nuance of his shivering little body, snuggled unwillingly into my fur.

"P-Please...I... I'm b-begging you..."

He doesn't dare raise his head, knowing that I will hear anyway.

"Just don't...d-don't do this... please..."

Playfully, I decide to try something new. Alex has never disappointed me before, after all: what more surprises can his ravaged soul hold?

"Why not?"

***

Alex blinked in confusion, and looked up at his tormentor. He felt his ears flatten themselves against his skull with terror as his plea stuttered again. "...I - I don't - "

Damian smiled playfully, and suddenly Alex's world blurred as his tormentor tossed him away, a full fifteen feet onto cold, wet stone. The fox howled with pain as he smacked into the ground, and the rain started to pour down on him, soaking his fur once more. The force was unbelievable, knocking all the breath out of him, and as he tried to stagger up, failed, and slumped to the ground, he realised that he was starting to cry. The tears were washed away by the rain.

"I-I don't understand? What... what do you m-m-mean?"

Damian shrugged, sitting back on his massive haunches and towering over him, apparently unheeding, or even unaware, of the downpour that soaked his dark feathers and silky fur - although he seemed to be taking care to shield his great chest from it: keeping it dry for the next attack, the vulpine realised with a whimper - and spoke, his terrible eyes burning low with an impossible, alien intensity. "I'm listening, Alex. Try and convince me. Try and appeal - " he snorted, a harsh, avian caw of derisive laughter "- to my compassion."

"I... I don't... Wait... Will you really... let... let me g-g-go?" He wasn't noticing the pouring rain either now, or the chill that was setting into his bones, or even the lightning that grounded blindingly on a mountain a bare mile away. His eyes were wide with desperate hope, and the gryphon chuckled tenderly.

"If you can convince me to." Damian grinned roguishly at him, and went on, "However, just a slight note of warning: you can't. I promise you that there is nothing, nothing at all, that can persuade me. You're doomed, little one. It's inevitable."

Alex felt his mouth open and close a few times, but there was no sound save for that of the storm.

The gryphon looked at him for a moment, his great, tufted ears flicking with cruel delight, and murmured, "But you're still going to try, aren't you? No matter what I do to you. No matter how much you suffer... you have to try. You can't accept that your fate is so utterly hopeless. You can't accept that I can be so merciless... and that's the truly perfect part. It's your struggles, your begging, your desperate need to live that makes this all so delicious. So come on, my dear. Plead with me. Die as only you can: exquisitely."

"I - I don't - " but already, Alex knew that the monster was right. He just had to, had to try anything. Anything he could. The fox felt his voice tremble, and realised that the cold was beginning to seep into his body again, icy rain dripping down his slick fur like a thousand tears of misery.

"Please... I mean... what have I done to-to deserve this? What... what have I done that's s-so wrong? I was just... just an innocent young man... I never tried to - "

"Oh, come on." interrupted the gryphon languidly, his foreclaws folded together like some impatient headmaster. "That's no good. It's your innocence that makes you so magnificently perfect, Alex: the simple fact that no, you have not done anything to deserve this. You have done nothing that is wrong, and I know that even more than you do. It just makes the pleasure more exquisite." He winked. "Try again, little one."

"I-I..." Somehow, this seemed worse than the terrible musky warmth of his predator's fur: Alex found himself starting to shiver, huddled and alone as he faced the impossible beast that had murdered him, like some surrealist's debating club - and of course, he hadn't prepared any notes. "I... I don't... look, just... don't you feel guilty? Don't you care at all about everything you've done? I mean, you-you've ruined my entire life! Y-You're... you're a m-monster..."

The fox was starting to cry now, he knew it, his tears lost in the rain. His predator smiled gently, his blazing eyes unknowable. "Indeed I am. Go on, perhaps? ...or shall we see how many of your bones I can break this time before you become too delicious to live?"

"No!"_Alex felt his arms clutch around him, trying to comfort him - and protect him from that which he knew he couldn't fight: those claws, huge and scaled like some lizard and tipped with those cruel talons and strong: so, so strong, a strength that could not exist in any sane universe. "Wait... please, oh god, please... I don't... Look... what about my _life?"

_ _

Damian didn't answer, his head cocked and his eyes slightly narrowed. The vulpine swallowed, but now he felt the anger building in him again. Rage that had smouldered and bubbled for months on end, rage at his lost life, at his doomed soul, at everything that he would never have. "You don't care, d-do you? You don't give a fuck about m-my life! I had so much I wanted to do! I had everything, everything to give this world.... and you've just - you evil-"

"Alex." growled the beast, his smooth voice oddly terse, but Alex couldn't care, as all that he had suffered over the past year of terror and torment, all the bitterness and hatred that he felt within him every day and all his hopeless horror came pouring out in a half-snarled, have sobbed frenzy of words.

"And more! What about all the things I'm never going to do? I wanted to travel the world one day, for the Catalyst's sake! I wanted to have children, to t-teach them all about this beautiful planet! Hell, I might have got off with Tanya before!" Oh god, Tanya, always so kind and gentle... and now you're breaking her heart by dying like this, Alex. Everyone suffers. Everyone dies. "We might not have been able to have cubs, but... we could have adopted! We could have found a breeder - we could have LIVED! I could have lived! And you, you evil... you've taken it all!"

"Alex!" Damian snapped, suddenly agitated. "Listen to me, right now-"

"I WILL NOT FUCKING WELL LISTEN TO YOU!" he howled, feeling every hair on his body standing on end. With pure rage, presumably... because Alex had never felt so furious in his entire life. "I can't die like this! I have a life, for god's sake, I have a soul... what world is this if no-one, no-one, can possibly stop me from dying like this! I hate you! I hate this! I don't...I...I WANT TO LI-"

And a blast, a streak of white-hot _incandescenc_e that seared out from the sky with blinding speed, a streak of light that was heading straight for him with a roar like the death scream of an angry god. He choked, stumbling back, fury subsumed by fear, as the lightning speared down towards him-

-and a screech, a streak of midnight that slammed into him with all the force of a titan's blow, smashing him to the ground faster than he could blink. A blur of black feathers that towered over him, a blink of blazing golden eyes, widened in an emotion that he could not comprehend-

The lightning struck.

Damian screamed.

This time, the pain was real.

It was a scream that sent a shockwave erupting over the entire plateau, the sheer force - whether physical or psychic - actually ripping trees apart and flinging stones into the air for fifty feet all around. Alex was tossed about beneath the gryphon like a doll, curled into a terrified ball as the ground itself shook beneath the apocalyptic roar: the Last Day, when the planet was torn apart by that legendary quake of utter devastation, had begun again. He was certain that one of his eardrums had been punctured. The air rippled around as the gryphon reared up, two and a half tonnes of dark fur and feathers and muscled frame clawing at the air as a thousand worms of blinding white light seared across every inch of Damian's body, his wings outstretched to a bone-cracking extent, still roaring an impossible roar of agony that went beyond sound, went into a scream that echoed and rebounded within Alex's very soul - and with it, a blur of blinding sensations that lasted an eternity of one torrential second:

_ _

Him. Alex. His life in an instant, his youth and adolescence, his hope for the future as he grew up. His beloved friends, his adored family - but for every happy moment, he felt the cold calculations of the gryphon as Damian plotted his prey's terrifying demise, watching unseen from places he couldn't possibly have hidden in without some enchantment over Alex's mind, watching and waiting for years on end - and then the ecstatic, horrific day of reveal. His terror and his dawning realization: that he would die at the hands of this impossible monstrosity. Every pain and doom he had experienced in perfect, crystal clear detail, paraded before his mind's eye in macabre precision.

_ _

And more. He saw others, dozens of other innocents who had died inside the gryphon's ravenous stomach. Dress styles of all ages for the past five or six centuries. All species. All ranks and places in society. And all innocent. All begging him - Damian - for mercy, for pity, for anything other than the death and terror he promised them - and every last one failed.

_ _

They were strangely dull, however - the ecstatic fear and despair was weak, compared to the blazing inferno of cruel pleasure that the monster had felt at his death. He was Damian's finest, his most perfect -

_ _

And more. Deeper, trapped in this one moment as the gryphon's scream of agony wrenched open his (who's? who was who in this blinding surge of memories?) dark, misted soul. He saw a world - another world, a world with no Sentients like him, a world populated by creatures as mythical, as impossible as the beast himself - and each and every one locked in a deadly unending battle for supremacy. No civilization. No peace, or faith, or understanding - they were intelligent, but they lived every day for the sole purpose of living the next, at the expense of all others. A world where there was only... the Hunt.

_ _

And more.

_ _

_ Deeper._

_ _

Fleeing. Terror, lungs- weak, young, pathetic - straining as he fled through the forest, his feathers slicked with the blood that had coated the claws of the murderer of his family, knowing it was toying with him, knowing it could finish this any time it wanted, but not yet, little one. I want you to scream first -

_ _

Even while crushed and dazzled by the tsunami of memories that were not his own, Alex could see the dark and terrible parallel. He whimpered blindly.

_ _

And then he saw it, afloat in a clearing, defying all that he thought he knew. Flames of blazing violet, hearts of obsidian black, smoothing to reveal a pool of fire... that beckoned to him. He could feel it. He could sense it.

_ _

He had seconds to live.

_ _

He leapt.

_ _

And more, instantly so much more. Pain. Pain so unimaginable, so impossibly excruciating that Alex knew that if he ever, ever experienced it in full he would have been driven utterly insane within a billionth of a second. Even as he felt it now, from a distance, detached from the alien mind that had gone through that agony, he sensed himself howl, his very soul contorting in agony at the mere memory.

_ _

And nothing.

_ _

And he woke.

_ _

He was. I am. Damian.

_ _

A name of terror. A name of cruel insanity. A killer of the beautiful. A destroyer of those he loved.

_ _

(And more, beneath the roaring tide. A whisper, a weak, weak, mumble, which was that smooth, terrifying voice that had heralded so much pain - and yet was not it. A simple phrase, but one which rang out above the cacophony of madness with pure truth, and then vanished into the darkness.

_ _

I'm...

So...

Sorry,

Alex.)

(And then it was gone.)

_ _

-and he gasped, his head still ringing from the deafening power of the roar. Less than a second had passed. Alex was still lying, flat on his back, his body freezing in the icy rain and the chill wind. The massive gryphon was hunched over him, his beak mere inches from the stunned fox's chestfur. Damian was utterly, totally motionless, his eyes closed. The storm growled overhead, but faintly, as if all it's fury had been spent in that one cataclysmic strike.

A moment passed, and the beast looming over Alex did not move an inch. The vulpine swallowed, trying to squirm away, and then he realised that Damian wasn't even breathing. He choked down a whimper, trying to lever himself out from under the gryphon - and with a blur of darkness, an avian claw was suddenly gripping his arm. Hard. Very hard. The fox whimpered, trying to tug at it with all the effectiveness of a sandcastle holding back the sea.

Drip.

_ _

It might have been rain. But he knew it wasn't. Alex blinked confusedly, pawing at his suddenly damp shoulder - and it was stained a deep scarlet. Blood.

It was not his blood.

"You... you're hurt."

"It was, by my estimation, four hundred and thirty three thousand volts." Damian spoke quietly, nothing moving except his cruelly curved beak, his eyes still tightly shut "On this stone surface, with nowhere to earth the electricity. You would have been dead before you hit the ground." He smiled slightly, not opening his eyes, as the fox squirmed beneath his iron grip and more of his own blood dripped down from the massive, angry scar that tore through his sleek fur, running along his entire body from temple to tail. Alex could see the coiled, streamlined musculature of the gryphon, he could see pale flashes of tendons and scraps of bare skin - and everywhere blood that was washed away by the rain, now seemingly subdued into a lighter drizzle, all it's strength leeched from it by that one cataclysmic bolt.

The beast paused, and, his smooth voice cold and calm, murmured quietly: "As it was, it was simply... excruciating."

"N... no... wait..." Alex groaned, certain that he could feel his bones shifting inside his arm. "I don't... what was that? I felt.... I felt..."

The gryphon looked at him blindly. "What do you think, little one? It was me. It was the creation of this monster that stands over you. Everything I've done. Everything that has been done to me."

"I... argh..." he moaned in pain as the horrific claw tensed slightly, crushing his arm. "Oh god, oh god please...no, wait. I heard you. You..." and suddenly he felt sorrowful tears welling up in his eyes, "...you said you were sor-"

But before he could finish the word, the gryphon's arm suddenly twisted round, hard, and he felt his bones snap inside the flesh of his arm. And he screamed out loud.

_ _

"AAAAAAAAHHH-"

_ _

Another claw snapped around his muzzle, choking his scream so that all the disorientated, terrified fox could do was sob silently, and look up, trembling from head to foot, as Damian opened his eyes at last.

And then he tried to scream again, the agony forgotten. As he looked, and could not stop looking.

Alex had seen the gryphon delighted at his struggles and pleas, and playful - the "playfulness" that had broken his bones and caused him more pain than he could believe. He had seen him laugh, cruelly amused at his prey's pathetic attempts to fight back. He had seen him tender, loving and sincere, whispering gently to the fox as he detailed Alex's impending death. He had even, he realised, seen him worried, maybe scared, in that one instant just before the lightning struck.

But he had never seen Damian angry.

It was utterly, heart-stoppingly terrifying.

The fox stared up, whimpering in his throat, as the golden orbs caught fire with pure rage, and tried to whisper a plea for mercy, for pity. But even if he could have spoken, he knew that the monster would not have heard.

Alex's ruined arm spiked again. He moaned through a jaw clenched shut, tears blurring his vision as the gryphon spoke. Damian's voice was low and ice-cold, almost a feral snarl.

"You sent me back, Alex. You sent me into that hurricane of agony again. I swore that I would never, ever experience that again... and now you sent me back there." He lowered his head to meet Alex's eye, so that the fox's world was consumed by a searing golden iris that blazed furiously at him. "If you were anyone else in the whole of creation, I would murder you right now. I would rip out your heart while it was still beating."

His claw loosened just an inch, letting Alex gasp in some air at last, and the fox swallowed back his misery and mumbled a response. "Wait... please, don't do- "

"BUT..." the gryphon cut him off sharply. "You're you. My little one. My prey. And you will not cause me pain. You are my plaything, Alex: your life lived only for my cruel pleasure." He sighed gently, the incandescent rage in his eyes seeming to recede slightly. Alex felt his lips forming soundless begging, and the beast frowned thoughtfully, looking down at him with head cocked, the anger still ablaze in his eyes... but tempered now with the terrible loving cruelty that Alex had come to dread. He felt his breaths coming fast and weak: utterly, utterly terrified. The massive gryphon smiled slightly, as if enjoying the sound... and then Damian pulled him tenderly into the warmth of his chestfur, chuckling as the fox slumped into the warmth and started sobbing in earnest, clutching his ruined arm close to him as he wept. Not just because of the pain: but because of what those eyes promised him.

More was coming.

"N...no... god, p-please... Please... just d-don't..."

"Don't what?" The gryphon cackled softly, his voice somehow simultaneously livid with rage and lovingly tender. Damian hugged him close, warming his frozen fur again with a soft purr, protecting him from the storm even as he murdered him... "Because what I am going to do, Alex, is swallow you whole." He winked at the fox, who stared up at him, visibly terrified by the fatal phrase alone, and whispered lovingly: "But this time, it will not end there."

Alex blinked, the confused and terrified blink of someone who doesn't understand. Someone who doesn't understand because every cell in their body is screaming the answer at them, and it is just too terrifying to take in. "W-What... what do you m-mean?"

"I won't embellish it this time."Damian murmured, a claw fondling his prey's skull as Alex broke down again, the vulpine's voice descending into incoherent sobbing. "It will not end there, little one. Because you won't just pass out from fear or oxygen loss: I will not let you. Instead... Well, little one, I may be an otherworldly monster to you, but I can promise," His voice regained it's cold, darkly furious edge, "that my stomach functions in exactly the same manner as every other creature on this planet."

Alex stared at him, eyes wide and slowly filling with silent tears. The gryphon smiled back, winking playfully.

"What I mean, Alex," purred his torturer, nibbling playfully at his ears, "is that I'm going to telepathically stimulate your exquisite little mind and keep you fully awake as I digest you." He felt the fox stiffen, trembling all over, and smirked. "You see? That terror. That mind-numbing horror. That's what makes you perfect, Alex. That's the reason - "

"Wait!" Alex felt his voice tremble. "N...no... oh my god, please, no..." he couldn't summon the strength for any more words, and collapsed into the warm, dry fur, sobbing as his arm sent pulses of agony racing up his shoulder and his mind seized up with horror. "Look, I, I'm s-sorry, okay? I'm s-sor... I'm so sorry if you h-hurt, but, please... don't - "

"No. Little one." The gryphon cut him off sharply, his voice slipping from gentle to curt and livid with fluid ease. "It's not punishment. Don't try and paint me as some mad wretched creature who thinks that it was your intention to do this, and that it was your fault." The edges of his beak, hard and set angrily inches from Alex's terrified eyes, twitched slightly, as if in cold amusement. "I know that you would have done it anyway, if it had been under your control. I know how much you hate and fear me for what I've done. It's actually..." he chuckled, suddenly demure and loving once more, "...well, rather... adorable, really. But, and this is the point: it wasn't under your control."

"I-I don't - "

"Simple. As far as I am concerned," Damian hugged the fox close, purring softly, "you cannot do anything worthy of "punishment". That would mean that you had done something wrong. And that is impossible. You are perfection, little one. There is nothing that you can do that I don't find... simply mind-searingly, exquisitely beautiful."

"B...But..." Alex moaned weakly, his broken arm melting into a dull, horrible pain that throbbed agonisingly with every beat of his fluttering, thrumming heart, "...why are you ... going t-to..."

He couldn't even form the word on his tongue, let alone speak it. Damian smirked.

"I suffered that agony, Alex, and maybe I suffered it because of you. But all that means is that now, as I feel your screams within, as you flesh sloughs from your very bones... I will enjoy the pleasure of vengeance, of returning the pain, as well as all the other innumerable ecstasies. Do you understand?" He growled contentedly as his victim tried to squirm out of his claws, sobbing feebly into his dark fur - to no avail, of course. "I'm glad of what happened. It simply makes me enjoy your pain even more."

The fox couldn't even open his muzzle, his jaw slack and unresponsive as a strange roaring noise consumed his ears. He could remember that hot, crushing darkness now: slick all over, slumped and sobbing with total hopeless despair and anguish. He remembered how he'd almost been glad of the dull, doomed oblivion of unconsciousness, despite - and almost, to his miserable shame, because of - the fact that he knew that it might be the last thing his precious life ever held.

But now, it would not end. All he had was agony.

"You... you heartless, evil m-monster... you can't do this..."

"Oh? Is that your beloved Authority's "Justice"? The innocent cannot suffer, the weak cannot be crushed, the cruel must face trial?" Damian laughed coldly, nuzzling his prey once more with a soft purr. "I have seen more of this world than you can imagine, Alex. And I can assure you that this utopia is not everything that you dream it to be."

"W...What?" Alex knew he was procrastinating, that he was clutching at straws. He knew he was trying anything to prolong his last seconds of life. He knew that Damian knew that too, and was delighted by it all. But he... he didn't understand. What in the world was that supposed to mean? "What do you m-mean? I don't... we've been going well! T-the Authority has been - "

"-lying to you." the beast responded curtly. "There are secrets buried in this world, Alex, and even I don't know what they are and why they were buried. Frankly, it doesn't interest me. Everything is you now. Everything."

The fox slumped, clutching feebly at the warm fur and feathers of the gryphon. His arm sent a massive jolt of indescribable pain welling up all around the fracture, making him keen weakly with agony. "N..no... wait. T-this world? You... I-I saw the... other place. You're from another p-planet..."

"No. Another universe. You saw it, didn't you?"

I saw you flee, he thought in answer, but didn't dare say. I saw you lose everything like I have, at the hands - claws - of another creature far more powerful and cruel than you. Why... why can't you just understand how much it hurts?

_ _

"Excuse me?"

Suddenly, the pain of the vulpine's arm was forgotten.

Alex screamed out loud as he felt a knife of pure pain rake through his mind, tearing him to pieces. His working hand clutched frantically at his skull as it twisted savagely inside his soul, sadistically slowly, blinding him with pure agony. He screamed again and again, vision dimming under the mental assault.

And it was gone - instantly, leaving him gasping and sobbing, collapsed into the gryphon's embrace. Alex shuddered, slumped and hopeless, as Damian spoke, not daring to look up, still clutching at his impossibly unharmed skull - how could the beast inflict such excruciation and leave not even a blemish?

"Do you not understand, Alex?" He tensed and trembled, whimpering quietly and clutching his fluffed tail with pure fear as the gryphon spoke, his voice languid and amused.

"You don't need to say anything for me to hear. I can read every thought you've ever had. I know what you're thinking for every second of you're life - and I know what runs beneath the surface, what glimmers darkly in the depths of your subconscious and your memory. I know everything, everything about you. You can't hide, Alex. You can't run, either. You can only try to... and that will never, every succeed." The monster laughed, the chuckles shaking his whimpering plaything like a doll, and continued, "And as for that memory...." with brutal strength, he tore the fox's head up to look him in the eyes: suddenly blazing, golden and furious, "it is nothing. It is what I was. It is not this creature that holds you, and do not expect any of my mercy just because you've glimpsed it. I am changed... I...I am... Voidtouched." The gryphon narrowed his eyes, his great beak clenched, and Alex realised that was Damian was breathing heavily. The huge bellows of his lungs snarled beneath his dark chest, and his prey whimpered, trying to cringe away from it, but he was imprisoned, trapped in this lethal embrace.

"I-I don't... "Voidtouched"? What... what do you mean?"

"I passed through." replied the gryphon simply. "I suffered that agony and survived. And I was... rewarded. If you can call it that."

"R-rewarded? Rewarded... by who?"

Damian seemed to hesitate, his terrible eyes darting. Rainwater dripped from his ears, making it look like he was about to cry... but then the monster's ears flicked, and his voice became that dark, purring whisper again.

"I...I don't care. It doesn't matter who or how, little one. It doesn't matter. We've toyed for too long already." He grinned cruelly, his slick tongue flickering out to wet the edges of his beak. "How long do you think you'll last, as I break you down entirely? How much agony will you suffer before you reach the point where your mind simply shuts down, unable to cope with the pain?"

"I...I...please... oh, god...n-no..."

"Sssh...little one. Let's find out, shall we?"

He dipped his dark head, nuzzling coyly at the vulpine's soft fur, still slightly dampened from the rain of the storm - which had retreated by now, as if not daring to disturb such passionate cruelty. Alex felt sick - and then he choked a scream as the same wet, soft tongue darted out, tasting him for the first time in so long.

Damian didn't so much as roll over as simply collapse onto his back - still holding captive his little plaything, of course, laying Alex to rest on top of his colossal chest - as a moan of impossible pleasure rumbled out from his throat, his eyes half-closing with joy and hunger. For what seemed like hours, the gryphon didn't move, his claws forming a cage of smooth scales and vicious talons around the fox, as he lapped at the vulpine's fur, licking it with unbelievable tenderness. Alex felt the snarl reverberate through his body, and closed his eyes, crying feebly. He didn't want to see death coming for him.

Minutes ticked past, and Damian simply licked the hollow between his neck and his shoulder, groaning softly at his taste: the gryphon's ecstasy seemed so strong Alex was certain he could actually sense it, a physical force, like some obscene heat that thrummed from the killers chest and leeched through his very soul.

Then Damian smiled softly, and simply whispered, "You thought I was blaming you for that agony? In that case... I forgive you, little one. With a kiss."

Alex looked up, and the gryphon leant forwards, kissing him delicately on the forehead. And slowly, loving, his beak opened wider and wider, and spread over the vulpine's entire head.

The fox couldn't summon the strength to do more than simply slump, feeling his predator's slick tongue embrace his head, lapping at his tears and drenching him again, in a another dripping storm - composed, this time, of lashings of thick, avian saliva. He started to sob, feeling his body twisted round on his stomach so that he lay on the gryphon's chest, the better to slide into his maw. He couldn't struggle. He couldn't control his fate. He couldn't do anything -

"No!" Alex couldn't think like that. He had to live. He had to.

_ _

"You... you can't..." he whimpered, but his voice was drowned out by the killer's ecstatic snarl of delight. Alex tried to pull back, tugging weakly at Damian's silky fur, but his only result was to intensify the gryphon's growl of pleasure. The fox slumped again, crying feebly...

... and then, as Damian swallowed once, pulling him inside with a hungry growl, he raised his head and his sensitive nose caught a faint scent, through the exotic, horrific muskiness of the gryphons maw.

Acrid. Chemical. Faint... for now.

Acids.

"OH GOD, NO! NO, NO, NO!"

_ _

Suddenly, ice-cold shock thronged through his thrumming veins, washing away his hopeless exhaustion with pure terror. He screamed, thrashing around as his head was crushed into the monster's yawning abyss of a throat, and tried to pull back, howling. His uninjured arm lashed out wildly, blindly, at Damian's head, bouncing off the hard beak and sleek feathers with a cruel chuckle from the gryphon himself as he swallowed again, slowly, taking his time as he savoured his prey's struggles. Alex felt bitter tears leaking from his aching eyes as his shoulders were pulled in, crushing his arms... against his side.

Against his side.

The broken bone tore.

_ _

He shrieked out loud, every muscle in his body going into spasm under the sheer force of agony. And of course that twisted the ragged splinter that had been his arm even more, so that Alex slumped again, hating himself for his weakness in sobbing, hating his traitorous arm for undermining his desperate struggles, hating above all, with a raging terror, the cruel beast who was doing this, his frequent moans and snarls of pleasure making his enjoyment of the situation very, very clear indeed.

"You..." he broke off as another swallow brought him in to his waist and his arm flared up with a howl of raw, searing agony. "Y-you evil... please... look, I saw you, fleeing. You understand how painful this is, don't you? You don't - you don't have to..."

Don't try to use that against me! snapped the gryphon inside his head, splitting his skull with sharp, clear pain - a terrible, agonising pressure that sent a thin fountain of blood trickling from his nose... dripping down the dark tunnel that was Damian's hungry, hungry throat. Don't be so pathetic, Alex. I understand the pain you're feeling - but that is because I know you perfectly. Not because I felt it once - that was not me. That was before, do you understand? Do you? The gryphon gulped, hard, angrily, and the muscles around Alex's dripping form clenched with unbelievable, agonising force. He tried to scream, but his lungs were crushed, leaving only a feeble keening sound to escape his throat.

"You... you're evil..."

Yes. The delighted purr had returned to Damian's mental voice. You have no idea, little one. What you saw... it was just a taster. I am your nightmares. I am your darkest fear. He swallowed again, pulling the fox's thighs and fluffy tail in with a needy moan of total ecstasy, and whispered silently, I am Damian. How much terror can that name cause in you before even magic cannot repair and resurrect your ravaged soul, do you think? How much agony?

_ _

"I... I don't..."

Shall we find out?

_ _

He swallowed again.

***

Down.

Down, down, deeper within. And I can feel every exquisite second of him.

I purr with pleasure as my hungry beak claims another few inches, dragging the vulpine in nearly to his knees: close now, close to the final, fatal gulp.

Ah... but not fatal this time. Not for a while. Even before I dive into it, I can sense the raw, white-hot terror that pervades every inch of Alex's beautiful mind. Does he want death, as the one escape he can imagine? I cannot retrieve a conscious answer from the exquisite inferno. He's disorientated, terrified, and in searing pain - and he knows that it will only become worse.

He is perfect.

I swallow again, lazily, savouring the blissful contraction and relaxation of muscular flesh as the fox's knees are claimed at last, instantly set upon by my ravenous, ever-caressing tongue. His taste seems almost more intense than before: perhaps due to the rainwater still dampening his fur, marinating him in the fresh juices of the sky itself. The world bends to make Alex ever more perfect, to increase my cruel joy at his devouring. I pause for another moment, simply licking repeatedly at the hollow behind his right knee, making him squirm with ticklish agony, a macabre, mechanical giggle bursting from his throat - that morphs almost instantly into another sob. But I keep lapping at the same spot, my slick tongue chafing it raw with tenderness, moaning softly with pleasure: my voice both telepathic and physical.

For, after all, it is the fact that Alex represents the pinnacle of adorable beauty in both aspects that is his crowning glory. The little fox tastes unbelievable, squirms like nothing - like no-one - I have ever felt inside my throat before, and his terrified, innocent mind... takes my unneeded breath away. The merest glimpse makes my heart stumble and flutter - and to my embarrassment, it has actually stopped once or twice during over our glorious encounters. That is the ecstasy I feel: so much that were it not for my... unusual constitution, I would have died a thousand times over from Alex's beauty.

Can he really expect me to deny myself such pleasure?

After a few more licks that make the little vulpine jerk and writhe magnificently, stretching the crushingly tight confines of my lustful gullet as hard as he can - although not hard enough, of course - I return to my patient, savouring gulps, taking him in inch by glorious inch. Alex starts to cry again, still struggling with all his might. All it does is tickle my throat, fluttering and filling and stretching... so delicious that I groan out loud with the pleasure. He is everythi-

With a slight glop sound that resounds deep, deep within my dark-feathered body, the little fox's head stretches open and passes through the valve into my belly.

The pleasure. The ecstasy. I cannot form so much as a thought. I cannot even support my legs. Instead, I simply collapse onto my great muscled flank, wings folded and crushed beneath me on the cold, slick stone, unheeding of the discomfort: all my senses are directed inwards, to experience every nuance of Alex's agony. My head is outstretched, accommodating his slender, delectable legs - with just the tip of the fox's tail and his flailing feet peeking out. My midnight-furred throat bulges and ripples below with his struggles, the fox's screams muffled, but oh-so- cruelly, deliciously audible.

_ _

" Oh no. No, no...Please..." Alex has realised where he is now. He twists blindly as his shoulders start to slide into the pitch dark chamber - empty and inert for the moment: after all, nothing has entered my stomach for the past months... since his last time.

Perhaps it remembers him.

Already, I can sense the smell of acid filling Alex's trembling nostrils starting to grow in strength, as my belly gears up for the considerable task of digesting almost 130 pounds of still-living vulpine - but I close my eyes, flicking switches within my own mind. My gurgling stomach quiets, it's walls slick with all manner of internal fluids, but no acids yet. It will take a while before my little one starts to burn. Good. I want him to experience my final swallows first.

"NO!" He screams again, clawing wildly at the dripping walls of my stomach, pushing back, trying to resist the gentle, firm gulps that feed him in, tail and toes sliding fully into my throat: the fox claimed at last. So slowly that the pleasure is almost painful, making my stretched throat reverberate with purrs of dark, cruel ecstasy.

Oh yes, I whisper playfully, feeling him stiffen deep inside, his arm flaring up with agony. You can't just deny it, Alex. You can't do anything except scream.

_ _

"Y-you murderer..." he whispers, shaking with terror and broken sobs as he slumps into the floor of my belly, curling up into a tight ball, shivering in the small space. His tail wraps itself around his thighs with terror, snuggling up to him like a beloved cuddly toy: a useless attempt at comfort in this alien world. His calves are still in my throat. For a moment or two, I simply keep them there, playing with them from outside, swivelling my neck to rub against the delectably soft bare flesh of his pawpads, rippling and contracting muscles to squeeze them - provoking a squeak of pain from the trapped, sobbing vulpine who lies huddled in the very literal belly of the beast: all his hopes gone, all his life spent.

Almost. Time to scream, little one.

I swallow, slowly, powerfully. One last time. And I pull him - exquisitely and tortuously - inside me entirely, growling gently with pure ecstasy. The fox is mine at last. At last_. Oh, Alex. I've missed you so, so much. The longing burns my heart._ He mumbles something in response, weak and delirious with despair, and I ignore it entirely.

"G...Go to h-hell, you monster..."

Sssh... you're not dead yet, are you? There's so much more I can do.

_ _

And I flick the switches back on. My stomach starts to work again. With a gleeful vengeance.

"Little one?" I speak with my tongue now, my throat finally clear, and I know that he hears me from inside, moaning in terror. "Just remember... I'm doing this all because I love you."

"No." Suddenly, Alex's voice is bitter, but unshaking. I smile curiously, laying back lazily, and listen with head cocked in interest.

"I don't know what fucked-up sick pleasure you feel at this... but it's... it's not love. You... you're an evil monster. I... I hate you. I ha-"

He freezes, huddled inside my belly, and a whimper escapes his shocked lips.

It's started.

I smile, and dive into his delicate mind, ready to watch the fireworks.

***

A weak gasp was all he could muster as the sudden, sharp pain hit, prickling at his back, at his paws, at his trembling tail. He remembered it: before, when he'd... died. Acids starting to turn a living, breathing, person into so much nutrient-rich soup. But then, he'd fallen into craved unconsciousness and inevitable death before it started in full.

Not now. Now... he took a shallow, gasping breath: and the air was thin and weak, musky and chemical and acrid and humid inside this impossible monster's belly. Thin and weak, offering little sustenance, and certainly not to someone in the grip of a full-on panic attack. But Alex's head didn't start to spin and grow dark. Indeed, he instead felt - above the intensifying tingling all over his fur, making him whimper - an odd sharpening sensation of clarity, as if he'd just downed two cups of strong coffee. He felt alive and alert.

Death would be better now.

"Oh... god. No. Please. I-I'm sorry - "

"I told you, this isn't revenge for what I sacrificed for your life. It's because I want your pain. That's all, little one. Pain and terror... that's our zenith, you see. That's when we're truly together."

The loving tenderness of Damian's voice was lost. Alex gasped with shock as he felt the muscular flesh around him ripple and come to life, pummelling and squeezing him all over. The pressure was bearable at first... but it grew stronger, crushing him into a tighter and tighter ball. He groaned, his lungs filling with stale, acrid air as the gryphon's eldritch mind kept him awake and his acids... began... to...

...Pain began. On a whole new scale.

The first scream took the fox by surprise, as if his own throat had realised before the rest of him. It was weak and quavering, seemingly as stunned by its existence as he was.

"Argh... oh god... P-please..."

Less than a second later, he screamed again, and this time his body had caught up. It was long and loud and lusty, and it wasn't enough. The agony was unbelievable, a flame that licked over every inch of his raw flesh, and it only got stronger. Alex screamed again, starting to squirm like a lunatic. It hurt so, so much, and he sobbed through his howls, feeling the first slickness of his blood starting to trickle through the half-dissolved skin.

_ Aw... does it hurt, little foxie?_ the gryphon purred inside his head, his smooth voice rising over Alex's increasing frantic screams. The fox roared his terrified hatred in response, and promptly slipped over, into the growing pool of acid, blood and... liquefied bits of... him.

The muscles crushed and massaged every inch of him, rubbing whole patches of his flesh off. Agony was everything. Alex wailed, his mind unable to think, unable to control his limbs so that he writhed until the fracture in his arm splintered, slicing flesh apart from inside - but the pain barely registered in this inferno.

"P... PLEASE!" he screamed out loud, every muscle in his body seizing up with unbelievable excruciation. "OH, MY GOD, PLEASE... D-D... Damian...please don't do this... I -"

His tongue froze in his muzzle, stunned at it's actions, and even the ripples and squeezes of the gryphon's greedily sadistic belly seemed to slow. Alex screwed his eyes shut against the pitch black and cried choked, howling sobs that shook his whole ruined body.

He had never dared say the name before, not even inside his own head. It had been a word of pure terror and screams. It had been everything he dreaded.

The monster answered, as he felt his muscles start to dissolve under the acids' relentless assault, screaming until his throat must have bled from it.

Yes. I am. Do you fear it, Alex? Do you see it for the horror, the evil the name alone is? He sounded almost regretful.

Almost.

_ _

Do you see what a vile creature I am?

_ _

Alex howled until his lungs had expelled all the dead air he had breathed in this hell, and then he tried to utter a plea, but no words came. He fell, slumped in the pool of acids, and closed his eyes. Death was near now, and with it came a promise of peace.

For now.

He fell slowly forwards, into a blackness more complete than even the monster's pitch dark belly, and felt himself relax, his lips somehow whispering dead words.

"You can't be... you said... I-I heard ... you said you were sorry..."

You said you were sorry...

Then nothing.

TheGuyWhoKnows 2012-06-10