Welcome to XG: Decimation!

[Sabretooth]

[In from lurking outside]

It was time.

Mystique should’ve done her job by now and locked the mansion down, not to mention disabled the security systems. So it should be a fucking walk in the park to get in there and find Red. Creed was giving himself an hour, give or take, to get her and get out. Any extra mayhem was entirely bonus.

Hoping out of the tree he was in, he casually strode across the road and right up the gate. With a hard push he was through, and there was no sound of alarms or X-freaks coming to welcome him. Creed made a mental note to not gut Mystique the next time he ran across her. Hell, he might even owe her for this, and didn’t that just make his fucking day.

Still, it was all about the present now. He walked down the drive like he owned the fucking place, laughing at the continued absence of anything but his own noises. They’d never know what hit them, at least until he was through.

The front door was the best place to start. Claws out he raked his fingers across it, leaving a distinctive pattern cut into the wood. That was just a start. Sure, he had a goal, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun along the way. There was nothing quite like putting the fear of Sabretooth into people to make him feel alive. Except maybe fucking with the Runt, or his little hangers on.

It was even open. Stupid trusting fucking naïve Xavier and his blind little soldiers, always expecting the best from people. Never expecting that one little shot in the dark, or that one twisted heart that could rip them apart from the inside out. He almost considered it his duty to remind them that they were only flesh and blood and pain and fear at the end of it all. Practically a public fucking service.

This was going to be so much fucking fun. Maybe there’d be at least one student for him to terrorize in person, or one of the adults left behind. It’d be boring if he didn’t get to menace at least on flesh and blood frail little thing before he left, other than Red. Not that he’d menace her too hard. She needed taking out and taking out fast if he wasn’t going to get hurt.

“Hello,” he called, “anybody home?” There wouldn’t be, or at least there shouldn’t be. He’d watched the Runt head off with his little gaggle of students and their minders, he’d watched the Cajun and his pack follow and he’d heard the rumble of that jet of theirs leaving earlier. The place should be practically fucking deserted. Red was still there though. He’d seen her briefly in one of the windows. The plan was a go.

[Sage]

The first three times that the alarm notice popped up on her screens, Sage had just closed them down and ignored them. There were no explosions, no sounds of gunfire, not even a warning tone being broadcast down the halls. If it was an attack, she’d know about it by now.

When the fourth alarm notice popped up, she made up her mind to find and horribly torture whichever student had gone and triggered one of the subbasement alarms, and then mangle whoever wasn’t switching it off.

A few seconds later when the sixth alarm notice popped up, she put her conversations on hold and tried to shut the alarm down remotely. It didn’t work, so she accessed the cameras.

Nothing.

Elevator controls were locked when she tried those too, and then her internet connection died.

A swarm of horror movie clichés buzzed at her as she made her emergency plans. If there was a good reason for the alarm and the apparent lockdown, a room on the main floor with only a wooden door protecting it was not going to be the best place to be, and she needed to be out fast. She took the gun from the nightstand and tucked it into the back of her belt- there was no time to dig out her holster and get that all prepared.

Her best escape plans left her with two options- the grounds, or the basement. The grounds seemed like the better of the two options. They provided much more cover, there was more than one way out of them, and they weren’t underground. They also had the stables, which were solidly built enough that she could barricade herself in, and the carriage house, which hopefully should still have some connection to the outside world should she need to call back the others.

How convenient. All bar one or two of the useful team members are out doing something else when the alarms go off here This is why we need to hardwire ourselves into the system…

Moving as quietly as she could, she dragged her spare laptop [not the good one, not if there was any chance it could be used as a weapon] out from under her desk, and picked up Bast. The kitten had been uneasy, pacing and fidgeting instead of settling, for nearly ten minutes. Long before the alarms had gone off, she’d been uncomfortable, Sage realised.

“I’ll listen to you next time…” Sage muttered, opening her door as quietly as she could and slipping into the hallway.

She planned to head either out of the main doors and to the stables, or out through the kitchen and into the grounds and take the long way around. She had barely gotten alongside the dayroom when a voice she’d only heard on recordings echoed around the hall.

“Hello,”

“anybody home?”

Sabertooth…

She held her breath and turned as silently as she could, tiptoeing back down the corridor towards her room. Her heels sounded frighteningly loud, even though she knew that the average human shouldn’t even be able to hear them. There had to be some way of raising the alarm, and she’d have to, since she knew for a fact that there was no way she could take him on in combat unless she was armed and had the drop on him.

Put Bast down, get a bigger gun and at least two knives, and see if someone didn’t leave a cell lying around. He can interfere with the mansion phone line all he likes, but he can’t block a cell… and if not, we’ll have to take him down on our own…

This appears to be one of those rare times that telepathy would be a blessing…

[Sabretooth]

He stood for a moment after he’d called out, just listening. Nothing. Not a fucking peep from anybody. Perfect. He had the whole fucking place to himself. Sure, it meant that he wasn’t going to have any fun, but he’d get in and out quickly.

Except…

He heard heels clicking on wooden floors, and a barely noticeable hitch of breath. Aw, wasn’t that sweet. Somebody didn’t want to be the welcoming committee. Where was their fucking team spirit, their Xavier Dream hello, their spine? He’d have to dig around, see if he could find one. When he caught them, that was.

Moving almost silently he turned and moved towards those footsteps. Fuck it. Screw quiet. “Hey, girlie, I can hear you,” he shouted, switching into a run. Just a few steps and he caught her arm, jerking her back and spinning her around. Ah. The mansion’s little computer bitch. Now she could be fun.

His foot crunched on something, and he ground it down without a thought. He was far more interested in what he could smell, and what she was holding clutched to her chest. Hand tightening on her arm, he ignored her fucking feeble attempt at fighting back, and reached down to pluck the kitten out of her grasp by the scruff of it’s neck.

“Ain’tcha cute, ya little fluff ball.” Damn thing was cute, nothing but a ball of fluff, and he resisted the urge to purr at it and pet it and call it George. It probably had some fucked up ‘cutsie’ name, or some shit like that.

“Let’s put ya somewhere safe,” he said, ignoring the bitch he still had in his grasp. He might be an animal, but he wasn’t a fucking monster. Two rules, that’s all he had. He didn’t hurt kids or pets. Hamsters didn’t count, fucking evil little furballs. Gently he put the terrified kitten in the large goldfish bowl shaped plant pot, making sure that it wouldn’t get underfoot and accidentally hurt while he was there. Poor little thing was just a kit.

“Now,” he said, slamming the computer bitch back into the wall as she went for the kitten, “as fer you.”

[Sage]

For a long moment, Sage was certain that she’d gotten away without being heard. There was no further noise from their uninvited guest, and Bast seemed to appreciate the severity of the situation enough to stay silent in her arms. She was almost to her room when she heard the thudding steps come up behind her.

“Hey, girlie, I can hear you,”

He grabbed her by the arm that was holding the laptop, and it was either hold on to that, or hold on to Bast. Bast won, and the laptop thudded into the floor and got trodden underfoot.

She tried to break his grip around her arm so that she could hit him, and when that failed brought her knee up into his stomach. She almost went for his balls, but something told her that he wouldn’t be nearly as forgiving as some when it came to that.

He ignored her, and snatched Bast out of her arms. She froze, imagining the worst. If it came to it, she decided, it would be better to close her eyes and try to block what she was going to hear. There was some data she definitely didn’t need.

“Ain’tcha cute, ya little fluff ball.”

She opened her eyes and stared as he looked at Bast for a long moment, and then turned away from her. She didn’t dare hit him while he was still holding the kitten, just in case. Moving very, very slowly, she began to go for her gun with her free hand, praying that he wouldn’t notice until she had it under his chin.

“Let’s put ya somewhere safe,”

He dropped Bast into a decorative flower bowl, and Sage braced half a second before he slammed her back into the wall, sending waves of agony up the hand reaching for the gun.

“Now

“as fer you.”

She kicked him in the knee, and was rewarded with the wet crack of a joint bending in a direction it was never meant to bend. The grip on her arm tightened though, instead of loosening like she’d expected it to, and her hand began to tingle.

One hand badly bruised, one numb…

She struck him as hard as she could in the neck with the heel of her free hand, throwing her weight forwards in an attempt to grab her gun before he could recover.

Blowing his brains out against the wall will probably earn us a medal. Or get us run out of the mansion by a mob… who knows…

[Sabretooth]

The black-haired bitch used his moment of distraction to kick out at his knee. Stupid fucking bitch, all that computer mind and she didn’t know he healed. Stupid… he roared as it connected properly and he felt it give under him. Bitch had hurt him. Only course of action was to hurt her back. He tightened the grip on her arm, trying to squeeze the life out of it, and flexed his claws. Fucking bitch.

She didn’t seem to take to it too much, instead throwing herself at him like he was the next hot thing. Sure, it was an attack, but the way she moved and that top, well, he wasn’t complaining. Hell, if he hadn’t been on a timetable, he’d’ve taken her right there on the floor and left was remained for the X-freaks to find.

Too bad he had a time limit and if he was gonna play he’d want to do it right. Right always took far more time but it was the only way to get the sweetest screams, and nothing tasted quite like the tears of a violated frail. And the blood, there was always blood, and fear made it so much spicier.

The bloodlust swam at the edges of his vision. He could almost see it now, her broken body under him… With a growl he forced it back, just in time to see her go to aim a fucking gun at him. Where the hell’d that bitch gotten that from? L-space? What with her being a computerised library, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Or it could be that back arch, the one with the sweet spot that if you put pressure on in just the right place give a lovely, wet crack. Such a sweet sound that.

As she brought it round to bear, he plucked it out of her fingers much like he had the kitten, lifting it up high above her head. It was almost too easy. Even in those fuck-me yes, please heels she was wearing, she was still shorter than him and she leant into him as she fought to grab it back.

“Give me back my gun.”

“Well ain’t you bossy,” he sneered at her, waving the gun gently out of her reach. “An’ short. Fuckin’ frail.”

[ooc: Sage NPC’d with permission throughout the thread]

[Sage]

She managed to draw her gun, and got it almost under his chin. Her hand was shaking again, but at that distance she wasn’t too worried about trying to aim. It would be near on impossible to miss him. He leered at her, and she felt the rage rise. He’d broken her laptop, damaged her hands, touched her cat and now he was staring down her top. It was going to take a very long shower to get rid of him.

How dare he…

And then the gun was gone. She tried to reach for it once and he mocked her, holding it up at arms length, far beyond her reach. She was tall, for a woman, but not that tall.

She knew that demanding it back was futile, but did so anyway, for effect, and to distract him.

“Well ain’t you bossy,”

She grabbed for the gun again, positioning herself perfectly to smash his knees again, force him to bring the gun down to a level that she could reach it.

And this is why we should be armed at all times, no matter what some people think…

“An’ short. Fuckin’ frail.”

She grunted as she threw her whole weight into hitting first one knee and then the other, two short, sharp stabs with one foot that would hopefully be enough to either get her gun back, or at least give her time to get away from him and find another weapon. Or get her shot, depending. As he began to go down, unable to stand on two reversed knees, she braced her free hand and punched him hard in the stomach, struggling to free herself from his grip before she got dragged down with him.

It occurred to her that calling for help might have some limited effect, as she knew for a fact that Forge and Ororo were still in the mansion, somewhere, as were two of the children. However, it would probably give the bastard what he wanted, and if the children were the ones that heard her? She couldn’t allow Kevin to kill him, and what could Cessily honestly do against a monster like this?

Besides, he probably wants us to…


[Sabertooth NPC'd with permission.]

[Sabretooth]

He wasn’t expecting the kicks to his knees. He’d’ve thought that the bitch would’ve learnt the first time. You didn’t hurt Victor Creed and expect to get away with it. Hell, you didn’t hurt him and expect to walk away afterwards. Not with all your fucking pieces attached and your blood in one place.

The strikes were hard enough to make his knees buckle again, and this time he went down. Even he couldn’t stand with two fucking destroyed knees. Sure, they’d heal, but not fast enough to keep him standing.

“Fucking bitch,” he roared as he went down, falling forwards to take her with him. There was no way on this fucking Earth that he was going to let her get away, not now, not without dishing out some retribution. Let’s see how she liked having her kneecaps kicked in. He’d even do it slowly, just for shits and giggles.

She went for the gun. That he had been expecting, and it only took a moment to toss it down the hallway. “Let’s see ya get that now, bitch,” he snarled at her, moving to kneel now his knees had healed and making sure that he didn’t let her up at all. She was fucking his now and she’d play by his fucking rules. The red rushed in at the edges, and he let it. Stupid fucking computer bitch was fucking things up and that had hurt.

“This coulda been nice an’ easy for ya, frail. I woulda just asked ya a simple question, an’ you’d answer an’ I’d leave enough of you that you’d still be recognizable. At the rate yer goin’, they’re gonna have ta clone what’s left, just ta make sure it’s you.” He growled again, and then slapped her, hard. Stupid fucking bitch. Sure, he liked it when they fought back, fuck, he preferred it, but that didn’t stop his knees from fucking hurting. And pain always stopped him thinking straight.

“Now where’s Red?”

[Sage]

“Fucking bitch,”

She was hoping that he’d release his grip on her as he fell, but instead he just held on tighter and dragged her down with him, using her to break his fall somewhat. The impact left her stunned for a moment, and then she saw an opportunity and went for the gun. If she shot him from this distance, sure, she’d end up with a face full of gore and a little deaf for a while, but it had to be worth it if it stopped him from doing whatever he had planned.

As for went for the gun, he seemed to have the same idea and tossed it down the hall, well beyond her reach, and probably out of the range of an emergency scramble should she get free of him.

“Let’s see ya get that now, bitch,”

She moved as fast as she was able, as soon as he began shifting his weight, and slammed him as hard as she could in the nose, feeling the bone crack under her hand. It brought a moment of satisfaction, and then panic when he barely even flinched. She struggled, desperately, and found no way out from under him.

We’re going to die. Horribly. Slowly and painfully and just like we always feared, we’re going to be alone. No team this time to rescue us from our mistakes…

As he began to speak, she closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. His blood dripped onto her face and neck, but she ignored it. As her heart slowed almost back to normal, she looked up at him and deliberately meeting his eyes, clenching her jaw and forcing herself to stop shaking. There was no way that she was going to get away from him, and so her energy would be better spent in ways that didn’t piss him off.

We can at least cling on as long as possible…

“This coulda been nice an’ easy for ya, frail. I woulda just asked ya a simple question, an’ you’d answer an’ I’d leave enough of you that you’d still be recognizable. At the rate yer goin’, they’re gonna have ta clone what’s left, just ta make sure it’s you.”

The slap caught her across the cheek and made her ears ring. One side of her face was suddenly hot and stiff, and her eye watered. She kept her gaze steady, determined not to give him anything. She could practically see the rage rising and his control beginning to slip. It was almost tempting to make him kill her, get it all over with.

“Now where’s Red?”

Wait, that was what this was about? It was something of a relief to know that it was nothing personal. She’d just been the first target. The nearest thing with a pulse. She swallowed, took a moment to clear her throat, and then said to him as calmly as she could manage, “I’m not afraid of you.”

From the outside, she was fairly certain that it looked that way. She wasn’t shaking. She was barely even tense. Her voice had been soft and clear and steady. He might even believe it. Even if he didn’t, it bought her time.

He won’t buy it...

[Sabretooth]

She broke his nose, and he just ignored it. He had her now. Pinned underneath him, weaponless, she was fucking caught. He could only hope that taking Red down was as easy. The blood dripping onto her face left pretty patterns and he was so fucking tempted to lick it off and then bite, bringing more to the surface, and maybe a scream as well. He bet she screamed sweet.

Instead he slapped her, hard, for being such a stupid fucking frail. It could’ve been so fucking easy. If she’d just told him what he wanted to know, if she’d just fucking given in and stopped fucking fighting, she wouldn’t be in this mess. Stupid fucking frail.

The slap made her open her eyes, and she just looked at him, eye watering and face turning red. He’d smeared the blood, and he wanted to paint with it, draw pretty patterns on her skin while she screamed for him to stop. It’d been far too long since he’d done that. It took time though, and that was one thing that he didn’t have, so he cut to the chase.

“Where’s Red?”

Was that a sigh of relief? Computer brained bitch really was messed up if she thought she was off scott-free just because he wasn’t after her. Not that anybody would want to be after her, unless the Hellfire Club suddenly decided they wanted to take on the X-freaks to get back one of their lost and broken little toys.

Shaw didn’t have the balls.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Now that made him tip his head back and roar with laughter. He could smell it all over her, vaguely spicy and just a touch bitter. Didn’t matter that she’d slowed her breathing down, or that her voice was steady. He could smell it, and it was getting him off.

Leaning down he gave into that urge to lick his own blood off of her face, and caught some sweat with it. Salty goodness, close enough to tears that he could imagine what those tasted like if he tried.

“Liar.” It was all he said as he pulled away a hairsbreadth, making sure to catch her eyes and let her see exactly what she was doing to him. Frail had a sweet fucking body on her, that was the damn truth, and he ground down a little where he was pinning her. If that didn’t loosen her tongue, then it was time to start putting the squeeze on.

“Now where’s Red? Don’t make me ask too many times, frail, ya won’t like the consequences.” He squeezed her arms where he’d captured them, digging his claws in deep enough to start the blood welling gently to the surface.

[Sage]

He laughed when she told him that he wasn’t afraid, and if his intention was to scare her further, it worked. She felt the panic begin to rise hard, harder than she’d felt in years. It was even clearer now that she was going to die. She was already dead. There was nothing left now after this. Despite her best efforts her throat began to get tighter, her skin prickled with sweat, and her eyes began to water.

He leaned in close to her and licked her face, licking away his own blood and her sweat, grinning manically. His breath was hot and foul but she didn’t dare move. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, she just stayed still and stared.

Stay still. Don’t move. Don’t look away. Nothing that could upset him.

He pulled back slightly, but not nearly far enough, still grinning. She felt the shakes return, and the first few tears made their way down her cheeks.

“Liar.”

He deliberately caught her eyes, and then ground down against her hard. Her breathing caught and she whimpered, too terrified to struggle. The tears began to run freely, and her mind began to swirl. Right then, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to remember where Jean was, even if she knew.

“Now where’s Red? Don’t make me ask too many times, frail, ya won’t like the consequences.”

She began pulling together an answer out of the swirling streams of panic in her mind. It would be simple enough. She was in the basement. The basement was locked down. He had no way to get in there. He would almost definitely murder her in a fit of impotent rage, but it made it less likely that anyone else would get hurt. Maybe Jean was actually in the basement.

We should be doing better than this. We should still be calm.

Concentrate.

He started to dig his claws into her arms, and the pain added itself to the panic and threatened to throw her into an emergency shutdown. She contemplated it for a second. It would be easier- she’d die without ever feeling it, but it also came with risks. Sometimes, she babbled when she was shutting down. It left far too much open.

Concentrate…

She grasped at the vague strings of data knotting themselves together in her brain, and pulled. They spun apart and reformed, and she focused in on them. The pain got worse, and the desire just to tell him where she’d last seen Jean got stronger.

Concentrate…

She started calculating traffic patterns in Des Moines, combining the DNA of several of the X-men that she’d collected samples from over the years to produce potential offspring, translating ‘Essays on Cricket’ into every language she was fluent in and estimating the number of hairs Bast had shed over her bedroom since she’d found her.

Despite this, her lips started to move. Despite it all, something in her said, just tell him. It’ll all be over. We get what we’ve wanted for so long…

She gritted her teeth, and then began to speak fast, mumbling the words out and running them together, but keeping her mouth to busy to tell him that she’d seen Jean outside.

“This is the air, that is the glorious sun, this pearl she gave me, I do feel it and see it, and though tis wonder that enwraps me thus, yet tis not madness…”

Shakespeare. Emma would be proud…

[Sage is quoting from the beginning of act 4, scene 3 of Twelfth Night.]

[Sabretooth]

She was ignoring him. She was fucking ignoring him. Him. Victor fucking Creed. Frail obviously didn’t have a brain in that thin little skull of hers, not if she was doing it deliberately. Maybe he should find out. Smash her skull in and poke around in there, paint the walls with that instead.

He took a deep breath, scenting her fear and despair. Sweet, and enough to bat back the urge to rip her to shreds there and then. He had a fucking mission and she wasn’t going to get in the way of that. Nobody was. Nothing ever did when it was the Runt’s birthday. Not even a sweet fucking frail who was starting to piss him off more than was healthy.

Then her lips started to move, and he leant down a little to watch them. Was she finally gonna tell him what he wanted to know? ‘Bout damn time if she was. Fucking X-frails. Too fucking stubborn for their own goods, the lot of them.

“This is the air, that is the glorious sun, this pearl she gave me, I do feel it and see it, and though tis wonder that enwraps me thus, yet tis not madness…”

He listened as she started reciting and bit back a laugh. Shakespeare. She was fucking quoting Shakespeare at him. What the hell was she on, and where could he get some? That had to be the good shit if she really thought that standard interrogation procedure was going to save her. Or maybe she thought he wouldn’t understand it and the big bad kitty cat would get confused. Stupid fucking bitch.

When she took a breath, he leapt in. “Where’s Antonio then? I could not find him at the Elephant, yet there he was, and there I found this credit…” He shook his head and laughed.

“Shakespeare ain’t gonna save ya, frail. Not even Twelfth Night.” He grinned. Stupid bitch had underestimated him, and it was gonna cost her. He hauled back and slapped her again, this time from the other side, giving her a matching hand print on her other cheek.

“Last time. Where’s Red?” He roared that last part right in her face, patience starting to wear thin. He was all for playing with his food, but he had a fucking time limit and it was ticking away. She didn’t answer this time, she was expendable, she was breakable and then she was dead. He was through fucking around.

[Sage]

For a few moments, everything was pure, blissful silence. She was alone, in her own mind, with the data. Creed’s voice was gone, blocked out, ignorable. The data from her senses was being caught by background processing to be analyzed later, when it was safe. She couldn’t see him or feel him or smell him around the orchestra of perfectly constructed algorithms she’d encased herself in. It left her physically vulnerable, but it was a necessity. Much more having to listen to Bast crying and yowling for her and she’d have cracked.

Concentrate. Don’t think about the kitten, except as numbers. Just numbers. An unstoppable flow of numbers…

Gentle plans began to formulate. Conversations formed and re-formed, potential threats and bribes and bargains, ways of getting him to put her down and walk away leaving her alive. She almost had something concrete when a red flag popped up from her background processing. He was saying… something. Quoting…

It took a moment for her to put two and two together. He was reciting the same verse she was. There was a moment of surprise and confusion as she shed the comforting data immersion and focused back on the grinning man-mountain in front of her.

“Shakespeare ain’t gonna save ya, frail. Not even Twelfth Night.”

His hand cracked across her face before she had time to respond, making her head spin and her ears ring again. Bast yowled desperately from the flower bowl, a sound that made Sage ache to the core. She looked across the hall, trying to see the kitten and reassure herself that she was still safe, but Creed got in her way.

“Last time. Where’s Red?”

She flinched deliberately when he yelled at her, glancing up at the ceiling quickly before finding somewhere else to put her eyes. She was fairly certain that Jean wasn’t upstairs anywhere, but if he decided that was what she meant, then it might just save the redhead’s life.

“Settling for Logan’s sloppy seconds?” She asked, calling on her conversation with Remy the day before to help her out. “Upset that you’re not his type?”

She glanced over towards Bast again, and managed to see her out of the corner of her eye, cowering behind the plants in the bowl and yowling. Creed looked very, very unhappy as she finished speaking, and she braced for impact as he growled.

This is going to really, really hurt…

[Sabretooth]

She flinched as he yelled, and he grinned again. That was better. Finally the bitch was learning. Now all she needed to do was tell him what he wanted to know, and they’d get along just fucking peachy. Or some shit like that.

And what was that. A look, barely there, up towards the rest of the mansion. Could just be a reflex, or the bitch could’ve just given him what he needed. Either that or she was trying to throw him off the scent. Without an actual answer, he couldn’t tell if she was lying or not.

Guess its time ta put the real squeeze on.

“Settling for Logan’s sloppy seconds? Upset that you’re not his type?”

He saw red, pure bloody red, and wasn’t even aware of the fact that he was growling, getting closer, practically close enough to rip her throat out with his teeth if he wanted. She’d just implied… Fucking stupid fucking cunt. She had a fucking deathwish, and if that was what she really fucking wanted, then he’d give it to her.

It was going to be a bloody fucking death, full of pain and screams and begging and blood…

Fucking bitch.

He roared, slamming her back into the floor, ready to start tearing her to shreds.

Only the fact that she wasn’t moving stopped him.

“Fuck.”

He slapped her again, just to be sure, and when there was no reaction whatsoever he rocked back onto his heels. She was still alive, he could hear her heartbeat, but she was out fucking cold. Bitch.

There was no point killing her if she wasn’t going to react. No point if he couldn’t get those screams and that heady scent. With another growl he stood, ignoring the mewling screams of the kitten, and looked down at her.

Fucking bitch had spoiled all his fun and she hadn’t given him jack shit about where Red was.

He kicked her, hard, just out of spite, and then turned his attention towards the stairs. He was going to have to do a floor by floor search if he wanted to find her, and that was going to cost him time.

Stupid fucking bitch.

The residents of the mansion had better hope he didn’t run into any of them, or there was going to be more than a little trouble coming their way. Unless it was a student. Then he could have some fun.

[And Creed is out to Little Red Hiding Hood and the Big, Bad Cat]