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Everyone else.... enjoy!

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Lucas sat at the bar in the Lake Tavern. She was alone. As was common in these days. She sighed to herself and ordered another drink. A martini. Her mind whirled with the images of the night before. Her husband holding her tight. The feel of his soft, mousy fur made her shiver involuntarily. She smiled to herself as she accepted the martini and took a delicate sip.

She wasn't like most animals. In fact, she wasn't an animal at all. Her father was a great timber wolf, a king who ruled the immortals. Her mother had been a common human street whore, living in the human world, giving sex for money anytime she could.

Lucas looked more like her mother. She had fair, human-like skin, and soft, blonde hair. She stood upright and had the face of a human. But there the resemblance to humans ended. Her eyes were the auburn brown, almond-shaped pupils of a wolf. Her teeth carried her own set of canines. Looking at her, she seemed like some exotic human from the other side of the world, but the wolf spirit lingered inside her chaotic mind.

The musk of lingered beer filled her nostrils suddenly as a man sat next to her. She rolled her eyes, but paid the man no mind. After all, this was a bar. Drunks were commonplace here.

"Tell me, lady. Wha're ya doin' 'ere all alone?" the man slurred.

Lucas was quiet for a moment until she realized the drunk was talking to her. She turned to face him, her wolven eyes barring into his soul. "That is not your business, good sir," she said, her accent a mixture of German and Cajun French.

The man laughed uproarously. He was a clean-shaven, handsome gent, but one could easily see he was truly drunk. His hair looked to be plastered on his head and he sweat profusely. "Per'aps th' lady would like me to buy 'er a drink?" he asked.

"No..." Lucas started, then stopped. She regarded the man momentarily. Then, she smiled. The chaotic swirl of her mind began to work. "Yes, actually. I could use another glass," she said, her tone becoming seductive.

The man smiled stupidly and told the bartender to refill Lucas's drink. They sat for a while, talking. Well, the man talked and Lucas listened. She did not care what he had to say, but she did not want to reveal anything of herself. So, she pretended to listen, all the while, her chaotic mind swirling with ideas.

Finally, the man asked the question she had been waiting to hear all night. "Would ya be interested in comin' to my place?"

Lucas smiled. "I was hoping you would ask."

Again, the man smiled his smile and stood up, using the bar to support him on his feet. Lucas stood up as well and bid the bartender a good night. The bartender nodded and watched as the two stumbled out into the night.

It was a dark night. The clouds were bunching up, therefore leaving no moon to beacon the night. No stars twinkled in the sky. The wind played with Lucas's hair and ruffled her slender crimson dress.

She led the drunken man down an old, beaten up path, far removed from the tavern and civilization. Her thoughts echoed her chaotic desires and she turned to him suddenly.

The man looked around. "Where we at? This ain't m' house," he observed.

Lucas smiled and drew a long dagger from her revealing bosom. "You are correct. I never agreed to go to your house," she said, reminding him of just that.

He looked at the jeweled dagger curiously. Never had he seen such a wickedly crafted weapon. The hilt was decorated with human skulls, fine obsidian and rubies stood in the eye sockets. The blade was slender and wickedly curved, designed not just to stab, but to sever the insides of the victim with a single twist.

"Wha' tha' fer?" he asked.

As an answer, Lucas howled like a wolf and lunged at the man, driving the dagger deep into his chest and twisting viciously. Her eyes held a hunger that could only be quenched with his blood. And so, his blood spewed before her, covering her. Not satisfied, the female took out another dagger, a common looking one, and began to sever his head from his body. All the while, his blood soaked her skin and dyed her hair. The dress was already red.

She took the man's shirt and wrapped the head in it, using the shirt to carry the head home. She silently entered the castle, not wishing to be noticed with the bloody shirt. She tip-toed into the Unicorn Hall, the area of the castle that she and her husband had rooms in. She knocked on her husband's door.

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Fievel sighed as he took another puff of his joint. It had been so long since last he had tasted the sweet taste of marijauna. For a while, years, he had been forbidden to touch any drug. It was a rule his brother, Will, made sure to keep.

He smiled. Yet another battle the brown mouse had won. He set the joint in the ashtray by his bed and turned on the TV. He was bored and had a hard-on. He cursed under his breath for not ensuring one of his wives would be free, or more to the point, any female would be free.

He casually flipped through the channels, lingering for a short period on a few porn channels, but not finding anything of interest. "Damn homos," he cursed quietly. Seemed the day was National Gay Awareness Day. Every porn channel was packed with gay porn. Fievel cursed his luck.

He looked at his door suddenly when a knock could be heard from it. "Who is it?" he asked, pissed at being disturbed.

"Your loving wife," was all he got for an answer.

But it was enough for him. He yelled for her to enter, but was struck speechless when she did. There stood Lucas. Covered in what had to be human blood. And she held a bloody rag in her hand. He studied the rag curiously. It contained something in it, though he wasn't sure what it was.

"I have a surprise for you," Lucas said, holding the rag before her to hand it to him.

Fievel got up and took the rag from his wife and carefully opened the package. He breathed in the aroma of human blood, savouring the acidic smell. He looked in to see the head of a nameless man. He gazed up at his wife, his eyes filled with love. "You got this... just for me?" he asked, feeling the blood soak his furry paws.

Lucas nodded and smiled evilly. "Proof of my first kill, my love," she stated, leaning into him and planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Fievel dropped the head into a chair near his door and pulled his wife in for a longer kiss. He peeled away her dress, letting it fall to the floor and touched her blood-covered breasts. He then grabbed her hips and wrapped them around his waist, to bring her to the bed.

Lucas worked at Fievel's already unbuttoned pants, helping them to slide to the floor. She allowed the mouse to carry her to the bed and place her on it.

Fievel pressed his cock into Lucas's vagina with a fierceness Lucas hadn't experienced before. He began banging into her, humping her hard. The female thought she would faint from the rough treatment, but somehow she managed to hang on. She knew it would only be time before Fievel would slow down.

But he didn't. He pressed on and on. His speed picking up and his thrusts pounding into her body, her mind, her soul. This was the essence of chaos. This was what Lucas had been longing for all day. And she savoured it. If though she felt she would be ripped in two.

Fievel growled a unmouse-like growl and bit into Lucas's neck, holding her as his cum filled her body. He quickened his pace, wanting to make sure his cum went far into her body, wanting to ensure she took the seed he was giving her.

Lucas gave an animal-like scream, her wolfen voice being heard throughout the castle like a banshee. Fievel let Lucas go and rose above her, his cock planted deeply inside of her. He gave a sadistic laugh and was soon joined by Lucas's own chaotic laugh.

Finally, as Lucas had predicted, the mouse fell to the bed. Worn out from his rough bout. She caressed his cheek as he fell to sleep. She waited until his eyes were closed before she too, fell into the darkness...