she's a l o o s e c a n n o n {stigmata&massacre}

[`` massacre.]

! massacre !
When you scream
It sounds like a lullaby
When you beg
I get all gooey inside

Metallic clouds of gray drifted over the vast sky, clogging out the sun's bright and inviting rays. The smell of rain clung to the wind that swept through the long, green grass and twisted around the few trees in the area. The breeze ruffled the dappled pelt of a certain bitch, her paws kissing the soft ground delicately with every step she took along the dusty white path. Her graceful stride ceased as a pair of beautiful blue eyes examined the sky from below, a slim muzzle lifted into the air to catch the scent of a storm on it's way. She hadn't had the chance to fall into the warm embrace of sleep quite yet, as the feeling of tiring had yet to approach her. Instead, she had chosen to leave the territory of Sha'Moore, the city's most cold and cruel pack around that she had the honor to belong to, and explore the other areas around the city, where she thought she could perhaps find excitement somewhere in the dark recesses of Citagazzi. Instead, and to her misfortune, her paws had carried her here, where it seemed there was no other dog to be seen. Why had she gone here in the first place? Hadn't she gone looking for excitement?

She knew there was a storm slowly approaching, which would be followed by the rumble of thunder and the endless pouring of rain. She had to find somewhere to take shelter before it hit, and knew that the trees in the area were numbered and therefore would not be enough to protect her from the harsh winds and cold water that fell mercilessly from the sky. If she couldn't find somewhere to stay, she knew she would be able to handle it. She had been in tougher conditions, after all, but still had the urge to at least try and find somewhere where she could reside. But so far, it didn't seem that she would have much luck finding a den to stay in until the storm passed. Her legs began to move again as she continued on her journey to who-knows-where, as even she herself did not have an exact destination. She let a soft sigh of frustration escape those parted jaws, glowing orbs setting ablaze blue fire to anything she cast a simple glance at. Or at least it seemed that way. There wasn't even a hare or a mere squirrel to keep her entertained with, as they had all gone to prepare for the upcoming storm. As usual, her mind began to wander over morbid thoughts that took her from reality. Thoughts of what she would do, if she actually had a hare in her grasp. Her eyes glazed over...

First, she would pull out all it's soft and fluffy fur, much like her own.
Leave it bare. Naked. Ugly.
Then, she would dig her long claws into it's flesh,
singing to the tune of it's helpless squeals.
Leave it scared. Hopeless. Pitiful.
But she would soon get sick of it's frightened screaming,
and dig her claws in deeper, splitting the skin.
Leave it pleading. Begging. Crying.
Blood would blossom from the wounds like red, red roses.
Leave it scarred. Bleeding. Dying.
Those words would explode from her mouth.
"Fucking disgrace, at least die with some dignity!
You...you and those alike are disgusting..."

...she was suddenly thrown back into the real world, to her disappointment. Snapping back into reality, she blinked her vivid eyes, erasing the empty glaze look. She cast her glowing orbs around at her surroundings, remembering where she was, and then turned her piercing gaze to the sky once more. I should head back, she thought grimly, and turned around.

Word Count: Enough.
Muse: Ehh.
Comments: n/a

[``SUBdue™]

Slim frame whizzed through the tall grasses of the meadow, spindle thin forelegs and hind legs stretching to their capacity to lift the aerodynamic frame off the ground, for at least a good measure before small paws slapped against the earth again in order to send the beast airborne yet again. At a full sprint, this Saluki beast was more than capable of getting lift, with legs that were like springs and a body that was so thin, it could have been mistaken for a greyhound. What gave his breed away was his tall, lanky body and the thin, slender skull which tapered down into a slender snout and a tail and ears that held frayed tendrils of fur. On top of this, there was the fact that he was two toned black and dark beige and those eyes which were so dark brown they looked black. This by far was no greyhound nor fancy fru fru dog but a vicious psychopath who was sprinting through the meadow after another victim who ran just a few yards ahead of him. As he weaved back and forth like sailing shark chasing down his bleeding prey, the maniac mumbled to himself, his maw foaming and those black eyes flicking to pure white as his frenzy grew more and more savage with desire and lust to gain hold of his quarry.

Sharp dentes cracked together as he smacked his muzzle together as his hunger grew more and more desperate. "Lowly scum! Get back here and face me! You dare spy on me and provoke me?! I will KILL you all dammit!" His eyes went white again and his snout cracked together with such violence he chipped one of his eye teeth. His chest heaved and shuttered with each measured breath he took, choking as he drew in dirt dust or pollen that was taken too harshly into his windpipes. Blood pooled at his maw corners, mixing with the white bubbling foam and making it turn a noxious color of pink. It casted to the ground each time he hit the earth or splattered onto the tall grass or weeds nearby as his body was sent into a violent jostle each time he bounced back up into the air. His quarry was sought each time he rose up over the cat tail high grass, causing him more fury as he saw how far ahead of him his prey was.

"I will get you! Don't you think for a moment that I won't catch you and rip your frickin heart OUT!" He chortled a short giggle that sounded like a giddy psychopath's chuckle and rolled his eyes as he crashed through the grasses. Little did he know that he was also gaining upon another canine in his furious chase. Closer and closer he was getting the the open field where the grass was much shorter than the mess he was currently dashing through. Once, he was out in the open, his quarry would have no where to hide nor no way to escape for this beast was much faster upon the even plains. His mouth frothed as he panted, taking in gulps of oxygen to enrich his blood with that fuel that kept his legs pumping under his lithe carriage. The tall grasses and weeds whizzed by him, some slapping him in the face whilst others cut into his tight hide.

As he rose over the blades he saw that soon he would be hitting the open field and his adrenaline piqued, sending his heart to pump extra hard and give him that extra boost he needed. A satanic grin spread across his muzzle, causing it to part and reveal his daggers, covered with a thin coat of saliva. As he smashed through the final layer of long grass, that wicked grin remained plastered on his face and was worn as he tore across the open tundra after the small poodle. His eyes flashed as he locked onto her fleeing form and laughed wickedly. "You are good as DEAD, bitch!" His chuckling continued to roll from his chords as he went full out sprint after her, his eyes targeting her little white tail. Suddenly, she weaved but it was a little too fast and the poodle slipped on something and went crashing to the ground, letting out a pained yelp. It was then as he watched her body smack against the ground that he caught a glimpse of another canine moving about nearby.

He slammed his paws into the ground and skidded to a violent stop and slowly crept up to the poodle. As he did, he glanced at the other canine every now and again, watching her location. It seemed she was heading out but, this beast wasn't about to have a possible audience member leave, especially one who was so beautiful. His dainty paw was placed firmly upon the poodle's head, keeping her from getting back up. She screamed and struggled trying to make her escape which was entirely futile. He turned his slender skull and locked on to the fleeting form of the other femme, calling out to her. "Awwww, come on now, doll. Don't leave when it was just starting to get interesting." He grinned from cheek corner to cheek corner and waited for the female to turn too and come to him like they all flocked to him like tainted sheep to a devil shepard.

[`` massacre.]

! massacre !
When you scream
It sounds like a lullaby
When you beg
I get all gooey inside

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Creamy white, dappled paws padded swiftly back toward the city of Citagazzi. Quickly but not without grace, those legs pushed and carried her forward toward the stunning bitch's home effortlessly. Her muscles rippled under her pelt as she strode through the fields, but indeed this lean husky mix was far from bulky. As silent as a shadow, she continued her trip without making a single noise, not with her silky, charming voice and nor with her small, light paws. Her vibrant blue eyes glowed fiercely as storm clouds rolled in to further block out any remaining rays of light, brilliant enough to make any dog stop and stare. In fact, she had had many a dog do double-takes of the stunning bitch, and if she thought them worthy enough, had the honor to be used by her for her own selfish needs before being carelessly left and erased from her mind, if not murdered. They never meant anything to her, and in fact, were only considered mindless, gullible idiots. She would, in fact, be considered as elegant and as beautiful as a ghost, but unlike most ghosts, has caused uncountable deaths in the past, present, and most likely future. If you were lucky enough to escape from her greedy claws, however, the best you would get away with was severe harm. For this clever, cruel mastermind was none other than the one and only Massacre. She isn't the average monster of Sha'Moore, despite what you may or may not think at first. She has different tactics, different moves, a different mind lost in different thoughts.

Massacre isn't necessarily insane, no. But rather she finds enjoyment in slaughtering her own kind, which nearly no other dog can seem to understand. Misunderstood? Perhaps. If they'd only let her show them the feeling of being alive when another's blood reaches your lips, or perhaps the overwhelming excitement when you rip through the ribcage of your victim and fasten your glistening teeth on it's still-beating heart. When you feel the beating of the organ stumble and weaken, and with the simple snap of your jaws, collapse. The blood from the first crime you ever committed will always stain you. Some try to forget, to clean and purify themselves once again. But no matter how hard they try, it never goes away. Some accept it and seem perfectly fine in the eyes of others, but inside they're struggling, screaming. Then there are the ones like Massacre, who found that they enjoyed the taste, the feel, the sight, and who were scared at first at the idea, but soon accepted it and realized that the guilt fades in unison with the heartbeat of their next prey. Oh, how she simply loves the excitement of the chase. And how she loves, when she'd rather not get her paws dirty, the minds of gullible dogs, which are so easy to unlock, so easy to reach, knowing they only want one thing. She tells them what she wants, a simple thing, in return for their sick desires. She remembers a particular time...

"It's simple, baby. All I need is one little thing," she hesitated, and her voice quieted to a whisper as she raised her muzzle to the foolish dog's ear. "...and then I'll let you have what you want." A smile spread over her lips as she stepped away to look at the handsome dog before her. What a shame that he was so stupid to fall for her perfect lies. He smiled a wicked smile directly back at her. "Well then, if you put it that way...what exactly do you want?" Massacre's blue eyes twinkled mischievously, before parting her jaws to speak. "I need you to do something for me...something I'm sure you've done before. There's a certain dog that I happen to find very...annoying, I suppose you could say." she smirked, "I'll show you to him..." Her victim didn't need more than a second to decide on what he should do, with the beautiful dog standing before him that seemed so honest, so truthful to her word. "Don't worry, darling. I'll be sure to make him sorry for whatever he has done." his lips curled over his teeth in a grin, revealing sharp fangs that glistened with saliva. "And I'll make him regret messing with you." ...that night, after she had made sure he had done what she had ordered, Massacre killed him.

"Awwww, come on now, doll. Don't leave when it was just starting to get interesting." words entered her bushy ears, surprising Massacre. She turned her head calmly toward the direction where his voice had flew from, and her icy orbs caught like a thorn on a black and tan pelt. Her eyes followed the strange scars which were laced upon the stranger's pelt, which just happened to make him more attractive in Massacre's eyes. Drawing her gaze away from the scars, her glowing blue pools drifted slowly over the black eyes he possessed, then down to the victim he had pinned under him. How could she have missed such an exciting chase? Oh well, she knew perfectly well that the show wasn't quite yet over. A grin crept up upon the dappled bitch's slender muzzle, her eyes flashing excitement. This could be interesting, she thought, and then realized that perhaps this day wouldn't be so boring after all. Giving herself a quick grooming by swiping a splattered tongue over her already-soft, clean fur, she returned her gaze back to the handsome saluki and the helpless poodle, giving him an innocent yet subtle smile before trotting toward him on dainty paws which had killed so many. She was prepared for anything, lacking the knowledge of what the stranger may or may not do, as she obviously hadn't met this certain dog before. Massacre approached him calmly with a steady pace, her sexy bodice trembling slightly with the excitement and a mischievous, drop dead gorgeous smile plastered on her face as she awaited the reaction of this rather interesting stranger.

Word Count: 1,003 words.
Muse: Good.
Comments: n/a

[``SUBdue™]

Smile widened further as his doll turned to his voice then came dancing over to him like a puppet pranced for his puppet master. He watched her as if she were a delicious peace of meat, slathered with blood, entirely fixated on her as her curvaceous body as she floated closer. His compact paw pressed harder onto the poodles head as he shifted his weight onto her skull, smiling a twisted smile as he heard her yelp in pain. His slender skull dropped down to her ear, where he whispered malevolent tones into it; letting it burn her canals with terrifying promises of what was to come. "That's it baby, scream so more so Stigmata can get his play toy for tonight, for the screaming only attracts her like blood attracts a shark to a kill." His dark eyes lifted just as his doll pranced over the last few steps, his head soon rising to greet her face to face. Brutally tattered and torn this saluki beast was with cuts, gashes, wounds and those satanic markings along his torso but, it seemed his doll was possessed or rather obsessed with the deeply dark and dangerous. Seeing his fortune couldn't have been any better in finding a twisted doll for this puppet master to play with, the black and tan saluki grinned from muzzle corner to muzzle corner.

"Come closer my beauty. Come help me slaughter this bitch, my doll. it will please your puppet master." He spoke to her as if he already claimed her on some level, his deviant mind racing at a thousand miles per hour as he watched his sweet treat. He felt the poodle bitch struggling some more and his jowls parted and went screaming for the side of her face, only to strike her with a savage wound upon her muzzle. She yelped and swore at him but he only chuckled as he pulled away. He admired his work, fascinated by the deep puncture wounds he left behind, now oozing blood and a liquidy yellowy, pink residue from the holes. He had hit something major, a sinus cavity or perhaps a airway passage; one of the small tubes that brought air to her lungs. His chuckling deepened as the bitch wheezed and coughed, sending blood to spray from her nostrils and trickles of blood to seep from her mouth.

His paw pressed down on her head harder, so hard he heard the sound of her cheek bones crackling. She screeched and tried fighting him off but, he only added more pressure until she stopped flailing about. The message received, the beast took off some of the pressure, just a small enough amount where she would feel it but not exactly thoroughly enjoy it. He glanced up to his doll and beckoned her over, cooing to her in deep masculine tones that would drive any femme batty. "Come doll, come and take your turn playing with my toy. I promise I will share it with you." He kept his paw on top of her skull until his doll came over to him and placed her paw on top and only then would he release his hold. He was not stupid enough to release it beforehand as the bitch could escape them and well, that wouldn't be very much fun without a toy to rip apart.

[`` massacre.]

! massacre !
When you scream
It sounds like a lullaby
When you beg
I get all gooey inside

Massacre closed the distance between her and the scarred stranger with a few last steps, a warm smile spread across her muzzle, but a wicked spark in her vibrant, blue eyes. She stopped a mere three feet away from him, glowing orbs dancing around his body as she examined him close up. My, my...what a handsome one we have here, she thought, a quiet giggle escaping her maw. She tore her eyes slowly away from the lean body of the saluki, her gaze drifting over to the struggling form under him. Her optics seemed to freeze over as they settled upon the poodle, like a pair of daggers carved from ice. I never liked poodles, she thought to herself with a smirk, before turning her slender head to the stranger once more as tempting words poured from his throat, headed directly toward the dappled bitch. "Come closer my beauty. Come help me slaughter this bitch, my doll. It will please your puppet master." Then, with the quick parting of his jaws, she watched as his fangs sank into his helpless victim's muzzle. Her eyes followed his movements closely with interest and something like admiration, shivering with enjoyment as he pulled away and left blood spurting from the poor bitch's muzzle. The yelping that sounded from the poodle's jaws was like music to her ears; it was the best music you could find around. At least it was for Massacre. She could hear the saluki's chuckling in the background, but all her focus was put into the screaming victim, for the moment at least.

"Come doll, come and take your turn playing with my toy. I promise I will share it with you." Massacre blinked her blue eyes rapidly, suddenly remembering his presence. She hesitated, smiled, and parted her jaws to show long, sharp fangs just begging to meet the poodle's flesh. "My pleasure." she answered, revealing the silky voice that had been hidden inside of her. A beautiful voice and a beautiful bitch, what a perfect combination, most would think. She padded the few feet needed to fully reach the stranger and his victim, glancing at the saluki before brushing up against him softly, then placing her paw right next to his upon the poodle's fluffy head. Not a moment after she had placed a dappled paw firmly on her head, the small white paw of the poodle shot up to strike Massacre in the muzzle, but she wasn't fast enough. Massacre pulled her head back, her eyes following the dull claws that just barely missed her face, before her bared teeth went shooting toward it and closed around the brittle leg rather neatly. She could feel her teeth split the skin and taste the blood that rose to the surface of the multiple puncture wounds sliced into the flesh. But Massacre was yet to be satisfied, feeling that her punishment wasn't enough. She pushed her fangs deeper into the screaming bitch's leg, squeezing her jaws together until a crack sounded from between her teeth. The dappled bitch finally pulled back, blood dripping from her maw and onto the poodle's face as her shadow covered the victim like a veil of darkness.

She watched the bitch beneath her witness the pain from the wounds inflicted upon her, struggling and yelping pitifully. Leaning in, her piercing eyes stared right into the poodle's miserable brown orbs, as if digging into her soul. "If you ever dare to underestimate me again, I will tear your pretty little face off. Got it?" she whispered, a wicked grin slapped across her muzzle. They both knew quite well that, whether or not the poodle decided to try and strike Massacre once again, she would end up suffering one way or another. Except the possibility that if the poodle did actually try another futile attempt at escaping, the suffering could worsen, and it most likely would. Her life was now in the cruel hands of the two bloodthirsty dogs before her, whether she liked it or not, and nothing could possibly change their minds about ending the bitch's heartbeat once and for all. And she just happened to fall in the merciless hands of these two, who would slowly and painfully crush her, until she couldn't take it anymore and her heart gave away. In fact, their victim was probably wishing for death more than anything right now. Wishing that the wounds would continue bleeding until she had lost enough blood to where she would fall into a never ending abyss of complete darkness, and never awaken again. Then, she would, in a way, win the fight, as Stigmata and Massacre would not be able to get their way, as it is nearly impossible to play with a broken toy. But no, the wounds inflicted upon her would not be enough to kill her, to her misfortune, and with the realization came a cry of misery exploding from the poodle's jaws.

The cry for help further widened the grin upon Massacre's lips, and without removing her paw from the poodle's head, she turned her gaze toward the black and tan saluki, soft words flying from her mouth like a flock of doves. "I feel rude and selfish keeping her all to myself. Why don't you come over here and help, darling?" She had no need to be impolite, as she was a guest and had the privilege to join this handsome stranger in his wonderful game tonight, and so with the simple shaping of her lips into the sweet smile that nearly every dog fell for, she invited him closer to further help with the destruction of his rightful catch.

Word Count: 943 words.
Muse: Good.
Comments: n/a

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[``SUBdue™]

Stigmata shivered and let out a maniacal chuckle as his doll sauntered over to him and placed her paw upon the poodle's head. Briefly, their paws touched before he removed his own and the beast grinned from ear to ear, all to thrilled to have his dark gypsy playing so well with him. Dance for me doll, dance for me and make me smile. His snout hide wrinkled as his nostrils flared heavily, drinking in her intoxicating aroma which was like the sweet smell of blood to a tiger. His eyes rolled and his muscles went taut as the doll teased and taunted the djin like a dancer teased her male audience. He wanted badly to take her down and do as he pleased with he held himself back, wanting to see what his dark doll could do to this poodle; to see her work of art when she was finished. If his doll was anything like he master, she would torture the poodle slowly, making her scream for death just so that she could have mercy from their sick desires; escape the horrors of being tormented while still alive and feeling. However, they were all so stupid for it was the screaming and begging which wanted them to torture them that much more and prolong their death further. Didn't they realize the artist they were dealing with here? These were no nansy pansy Van Goh's here, tossing around bright colors and ripping their own ears off when frustrated that the work didn't turn out just perfect. These were the Hannibal Lecter's of art, the ones who loves slaughtering their artworks and making them grotesque and hard to look out without feeling a gag reflex.

He shuttered at her touch as he stepped back far enough to give her room but, close enough where he would see and even feel some of the action a blood splattered onto his lean body. Oh, how he lusted the feeling of still warm crimson liquid splashing onto him and the sound of organs ripping from their sockets and the smell of caverns being shred open. It was all ecstasy to the male and he could barely keep himself at bay long enough to let his little doll play before he dove in head first. Just wait, just wait a little longer and then she will be yours. He told himself this repeatedly as she stood like a queen over the poodle, claiming her kill like a lead bitch claimed her right of passage. Her voice taunted him, making him shutter again. He spoke back, revealing a voice that was equally dark and sensual, heightened of course with those rich masculine tones. "No, it is my pleasure, doll. I do hope you will play with me when you are finished." His lips peeled back, flashing her a sadistic grin and his eyes took on a feral glint as he watched like she was a piece meat dangling before his hungry gaze.

Suddenly, the poodle bitch launched her paw for his dolls face and he was about to discipline her savagely when his doll caught the leg in her mouth. He watched in silence and deep interest as she clamped down on the leg, drawing blood. However, his dark puppet was not satisfied, and clamped down harder yet, crushing her bone. The sound of it was music to his ears and he chuckled darkly, as the bitch yanked it back, finally understanding the terms. He smirked, thoroughly enjoying her new partner in insanity and thinking maybe they should stick together. What was a dark puppet without, his equally dark doll; they were a perfect team; a perfect match like the satanic Joker and deviant Jester. This was a new concept to the dark saluki as he never opened his door to any other but, rather tortured and killed everything in sight but, this was a exciting discovery; an absurd but exciting twist of nature, like a lioness taking in a pronghorn calf as her own. In one moment, you wonder why the lioness does not simply kill it but, are deeply fascinated by the reality that this is really happening before your very eyes that a killer is tending to its prey like it's part of the pride.

His prey moved her muzzle down to the poodle and gave her a terrifying warning which the master only chuckled more deeply too. She was too good to be true and he knew at an instant she would become his; that she belonged to him. He stepped back over and possessively placed his paw over her own and leaned up against her. His muzzle snapped around and he sent his teeth gnawing harshly into her scruff, and growled lowly as he did thus, claiming her roughly. However, he did not send a punishing wound to her, letting her understand that he was allowing this one warning and one alone that she best comprehend his claim. Next time, if she dared undermine him, she would pay the brutal price. His maw parted slowly, and he spoke in dark tones to his sweet doll, answering her sensual words. "Only if you insist, doll. Stigmata can share. What is your name, doll for you are mine now, and I yours. We are a match..a team." He chuckled darkly again, his body shivering with his delight at finding someone he could share his dark obsession with. The devil finally had his mistress; his deviless that would share in his dark existence and now Citagazee would truly be in terror with this deadly duo on the loose.

[`` massacre.]

! massacre !
When you scream
It sounds like a lullaby
When you beg
I get all gooey inside

The black and white bitch turned her cold eyes down toward her prey as she felt the stranger's paws cover her own upon the poodle's soft head. She felt the black and tan saluki gnaw into her scruff, not bothering to be gentle, but Massacre was all too used to pain. Her bushy ears swiveled around to better face the scarred stranger, finding his words as they twisted around her luxurious fur, which was gripped between his ivory daggers roughly. "...Massacre. My name is Massacre." the dappled bitch replied after a moment's pause. She seemed hesitant at first, but then that devilish grin she constantly wore returned back to her inky black lips. She was beginning to like this stranger, whether he was sane or not. Though, she would not let herself fall too hard for the so-called Stigmata; after all, love always ended up being brutally shattered and therefore was completely and utterly pointless, or so she believed.

Word Count: n/a
Muse: low.
Comments: unfinished; sorry,
my muse isn't that great at the moment.