VERSE TEN: THE PRINCIPLE OF EVIL MADE FLESH

Manchester. That place had been good to them, hadn't it? Not-Damon though so.

They'd spent the better part of two decades there, at least. There had been a lively scene in the local bars and pubs; enough casual hedonism to keep the other inhabitant of the fox's body from even attempting to assert control with any regularity. And distractions aside, the town had been ripe with other opportunities...

Most recently there had been the darling Miranda, of course. What had happened to her was unfortunate. Even un-Damon had grown to love her, after a fashion; her demise had been the inevitable collateral damage that so often came with a turn. Before Miranda there had been the delightful, disposable feline fuck-toy, Konstantin. And earlier still, there had been one incident in particular...

Damon had gone to the market for some banal reason or other. Not-Damon couldn't be bothered to recall the specifics. What it could recall, however, was what else had happened that fateful day. Again, there had been that unmistakable scent-that-was-not-a-scent...

It was stronger than the trace aroma Miranda had always had. Hell, it had been even more potent than when they'd encountered Konstantin, whose more vibrant aura had helped un-Damon swiftly seize control of their body from the fox. This earlier occasion it had been much stronger. So strong that the mere recollection of it made it seem real, as if those events were unfolding all over again.

At the time, the potency of it had been unimaginably intense. The transfer of control had ripped through Damon's body like an elemental force, shunting the mewling fox's soul aside so that un-Damon could assert dominance with the merest suggestion. It had been...intoxicating.

A dozen people were killed in an instant. The power that surged through Damon's body had been immense, almost uncontrollable...and certainly unmistakable.

"No mistake: one of them is here," Damon's voice rasped as the fox stood uneasily. Un-Damon noted the crater sunken in the floor where the tiles of the supermarket had cracked and buckled under the strain of the turn. Foul vapours rose from the gaps in the floor and the air was heavy with the stink of sulphur. The heat radiating off of Damon's body was intense, and not-Damon turned one of the fox's paws in front of their eyes carefully to watch the air shimmering around it. It took actual _concentration_on their regenerative abilities to keep the fur and flesh from burning right off of the vulpine's physical form.

A number of bystanders had not been so fortunate. Strewn around the epicentre of the crumbling hole in the floor were blackened skeletons, their bodies immolated beyond recognition. The heat had smelted the surrounding displays, shelves and part of a nearby freezer unit as well; twisted glass and steel glowed orange as it sagged against the floor. Not-Damon stepped over a puddle of something molten and drank in the frightened surprise on the faces of everyone nearby, or at least those who had been too stunned to bolt in fright.

Delightful.

Some store staffer came running down a nearby aisle with a fire extinguisher. A fire alarm and sprinkler system should have started, but the electromagnetic disturbance caused by the power radiating from Damon's body had likely killed all the electronics for half a block in every direction. The retail warrior stumbled to a halt, mouth agape when he caught sight of un-Damon standing amidst the smouldering carnage.

Smoke roiled around the fox's nude form; his clothes had burned away. A wicked grin split Damon's dark, pointed features.

"Is it you?" Damon's voice crackled like hot coals at the heart of a fire. Before the store employee could utter a response, however, the fox had leaped upon him. It was a trivial thing to hoist the ferret off his feet, no matter how he squirmed. One quick whiff at the young lad's chest told the un-fox enough, however.

"Sadly, no," it lamented before channeling the barest hint of its power through its fingertips. The mustelid's fur caught flame immediately and the rest of his body swiftly followed suit. He went up in a flash-fire, the writhing and shrieking cut tragically short as skin and flesh and fat melted like candle wax. Even bone turned to charcoal briquettes in moments as the young lad's skeleton crumbled in the fox-thing's grasp.

The stragglers had started to flee, by that point.

That won't do.

Not-Damon propelled the fox's body in a headlong sprint to the front of the supermarket well before any more than a few individuals had time to shove their way through the doors. It sank talons gorged on supernatural power into the floor in order to skid to a halt and cast about with Damon's keen golden eyes for a means to stop the flight of its prey.

The storage shelves by the checkout had done the trick. With a fierce snarl, not-Damon impelled the fox's form to heft one here; send another rocketing across the floor with a kick there. In short order a log-jam of sorts was created around the exits to the store and only one or two people had been crushed in the process.

Un-Damon made its way over to one of them - a rabbit - groaning pitifully, pinned beneath an upturned freezer display. The little lady was too weak to do any more than paw at the fox when he lifted her head with a sharp tug at those long ears in order to sniff her hair.

Again, no.

With contemptuous ease the fox-thing snapped her neck and stood, whirling on the frightened, writhing masses it had trapped in the store.

"Where the fuck are you!?" roared the fox among hens. People screamed. People panicked. People bled.

They milled about like the frightened prey they were before an apex predator beyond their ken. Some of them trampled or clawed at each other to get away. Some of them hid. A few even tried to attack un-Damon head-on. All of them died.

Some were caught in the fox's grasp and burned to cinders as the ferret and those caught in the vicinity of Damon's transformation had been. Some of them not-Damon ran down and tore apart with tooth and nail. Most of them were put to the sword; it had been easier that way, and there had been too many distractions to enjoy any one at a leisurely pace.

The dark fox had stalked down every aisle and throughout the whole of the store including the back rooms and offices, blocking exits where it found them and butchering frightened shoppers and employees alike. As enjoyable as it had been, by the time five or ten minutes had passed un-Damon had slaughtered dozens of sacrificial lambs and still seemed no closer to the one it sought.

But damn it, the smell was still everywhere! It reeked over blood and bowels and even the rank stench of the skunks not-Damon had cut down.

The fox-creature booted a door off its hinges as it returned from the back-room of the deli where it had set aside a few choice cuts of meat for later. A frantic rattling echoed from the front of the store, grabbing its attention. By the time the vulpine monstrosity arrived to investigate it caught sight of a pudgy young badgeress desperately attempting to scrabble through a hole in the makeshift barricade by one of the exits. People could be heard shouting words of encouragement to her from the other side, but the hunter couldn't catch sight of those attempting to aid the flight of its prey. No matter.

The good Samaritans did appear to get a glimpse of un-Damon's approach, however. Somebody shouted a word of alarm and the she-badger looked back in time to see the black fox stalking toward her: sword trailing viscera on the tiled floor, dark fur matted by crimson stains, trailing red paw-prints in its wake. She yelped and slid back to the floor, scrambling to run away somewhere, anywhere.

Not-Damon grinned and vaulted over one register to catch her trying to rush past another. It snarled, claws sinking into the scruff of the badger's neck as the fox hauled her backward and heaved the young woman bodily onto the nearest counter.

"N-no! Please!" She yelped in a blind panic. Damon's nostrils flared, pointed muzzle hovering a few inches from the frightened creature. The fox-beast breathed a sigh of disappointment. Another dead end. The meat squirmed again unpleasantly and whimpered some plea or protestation. Un-Damon snarled in frustration.

"Shut up and BLEED, you wanker!" it cursed before sinking its vicious, toothed sword into the young woman's torso, piercing her heart. She bubbled, sputtered and squirmed a few moments more after that, but with a pitiable groan her body did at last go slack and bleed out over the register stand. Not-Damon sighed in annoyance, unable to truly savour the moment in light of how fruitless locating the source of that stink had been.

It briefly contemplated relieving some of that stress in a carnal manner on the still-warm body of its latest victim when the faintest of whimpers caught its attention. The fox-creature went statue-still, ears twitching alertly 'til it heard it again, accompanied by the quietest of whispers:

"S-see? He's probably gone back to look for the others, now's our chance to-"

Un-Damon threw itself forward and leaned over the counter housing the register. The fox's long, silver hair cascaded to the floor as the creature hung upside-down over the stall, peering beneath it with a manic grin as it caught sight of two children - a wolf-lad and a skunk-girl. The latter shrieked.

"There you are! 'Ello luvs!" Not-Damon was undeterred by the scream, but it recoiled instinctively as the pre-pubescent wolf-child threw a surprisingly strong fist into its eye. "Gah! Fucking cunt!"

The black-furred fox turned away with an exacerbated sneer. It kept the swelling of its injured eye at bay with some concentration, and when it looked up both aurulent optics locked on to the sight of the children fleeing in a mad dash. A single unnatural leap took the vulpine villain through the air to land before the frightened young ones on all fours in a flourish.

"Ohoho, got some fight in you, eh?" It taunted, flashing its disturbingly sharp teeth in a smile.

The young wolf couldn't have been older than twelve; he'd had steely fur, a freckled face, brilliant green eyes and an unruly mop of tawny hair. His stride had faltered when the fox cut off their path, but he stood his ground and balled his fists, whereas the little mephit just fell flat on her bushy tail.

The skunk girl had been a tiny thing - no older than eight - with wide, frightened eyes. They'd been green as well. Her long hair was a paler brunette than the almost-black of her pelt, and the tail on which she'd fallen had almost been as big as the rest of her body. Both of them looked delightful. But more than that...

"Sorry, but you're not getting out that easily," the fox-thing shook Damon's head and chuckled, rising to a hunched crouch, looming over the little ones without getting all the way to its feet.

"S-shut up!" the wolf-boy snarled, ears flat as he bared his teeth. "I w-won't let you near her, you sod!" He'd had spunk, at least.

"Ahahaheh! Ohhh, no? What are you gonna do, then, eh? There isn't anything you can do to save her, you little git," the fox jeered, in part to torment them, but also as a matter-of-fact. Its golden, predatory eyes flickered to and fro, taking in the carnage of the marketplace around them. "No more'n'your mum, anyway," it added with a sneer, recalling having cut down at least one grown lupine that might have been the lad's guardian.

The taunt had done the trick, at any rate.

The young pup snarled and rushed forward, no doubt intent on clashing with the beast-in-fox's clothing in the manner of prey driven mad by fear of predation. Not-Damon simply ignored the incoming blows and seized the whelp by the throat, hoisting him off his feet. He squirmed and fought, of course, but it was a trivial matter to keep the thrashing youth held aloft.

"Oh no you don't, little one. Now then..." the fox trailed off as realization dawned. It brought the boy closer for inspection; the young fellow's struggles had weakened as he'd been simultaneously throttled and scalded by the callous paw 'round his neck radiating its foul energies. Damon's muzzle nudged at the little bastard's face a few times, sniffing and causing him to flinch. Un-Damon had to sniff again to be sure over the noxious reek of young girl's skunk-stench, which was all over both children.

"Oh, well well," the fox-thing rumbled as it cracked Damon's face wider in an even more unhinged grimace. It gave the boy a lick across the snout to be sure. _"Mmm, there's no mistake..."_It turned its attention next to the little she-skunk who had yet to move from the floor; she remained paralyzed with fright, weeping into the end of her tail. She squealed when the fox hoisted her up into the air by the scruff of her neck, too old for such rough treatment. Not-Damon didn't care, of course. Another quick sniff confirmed its suspicions.

The bringer-stink clung to both of them so closely they couldn't have been anything but the sources themselves. It made sense, given the power that coruscated almost uncontrollably through the fox. It laughed.

"Yes, you reek of it, both of you!" Un-Damon crowed triumphantly. The wolf gurgled through his constricted airway and the skunk wailed pathetically. The fox, for its part, carried on. "Two-for-one! It's better than I could've hoped! Hahahah!"

It was impossible to wipe the grin from its sharp muzzle by that point. Not-Damon owned the giddy expression instead, drawing both children nearer, as close as it could get the struggling striplings to its face.

"Two more to go," the fox said pointedly, uncaring whether they comprehended. The skunk-girl had shut her eyes tight while she whimpered and the wolf-boy's own eyes were bulging and bloodshot as spittle flecked at the corners of his mouth.

Un-Damon sighed and strode back to the registers, dragging both of the children along the floor by the respective hand-holds it had on them. Upon reaching the registers it tossed them roughly up onto the counter. It maintained a firm grip on the stunned little ones to keep them from getting any bright ideas, but then the fox-creature stood before them and lectured like a patient mentor.

"Now, children, I need you to remember some things for me. Can you do that? You seem like bright little fuckers; I think you can. Now...remember what you saw here today." The vulpine paused to look around at the grisly scene, and the petrified children's gaze had followed its own, if only briefly. It looked back to them with a smirk and they closed their eyes tight.

Sirens were wailing outside by then, and there was some commotion on the other side of the makeshift barricades at the doors. The fox-thing sighed impatiently and hastened to its conclusion.

"Remember what you've seen," it reiterated, "remember what I did to your parents; to everyone else here. But above all else, remember one thing: this was your faults!" The children whimpered and the fox cackled hollowly, tossing its head back in genuine mirth.

Then it released them. The fur on their necks had all but burned away, replaced by angry, blistered skin, but it was hardly anything they wouldn't survive. And though the little wolf-fellow had nearly lost consciousness from the throttling he'd received, not-Damon had hardly been concerned. Kids bounced back, after all.

Satisfied that its work was done, the dark fox had retreated to the shadows, wraith-like, and leaped into the exposed metal beams of the ceiling overhead.

"Remember!" It howled, cackling as the skunk-girl began to cry anew. Like a nightmare the fox all but vanished, leaving only the ringing echoes of its rasping voice behind. "Remember, remember, ahah...HAHAHAHAAAH!"

_ _