FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Arching Angels pt. 3

To the End.

“Wake up . . . . Waaaaake uuuuuuuuup." Distant voice echoed its call in his mind, eyelids opening to a dim sun peaking around to the sacrificial chamber. Scent of a bonfire akin to torched oak rife across the dragon's nose only served to help slow his spinning mind. Back lain flat upon the same, familiar tree slab, the very same one he woke upon every time he experienced what most would call death. Bits of charcoal crackled under the dragon's back as he sat up, swinging his legs off the slabs side. Head pounding with a former lifetime's worth of memories as a fresh brand on his mind, giving quite the lovely partnership to an accompanying brand new body. Looking to each hand flexing it as the voice called again out off in the distance.

“Do you, ever, shut the fuck up?" He growled callously, knowing very well the full weight of the deity he vocally challenged, grabbing his grease-slicked coat, thumping a smoke between his lips and trudging off. Emerging from the burrow he found an altogether different world, the sky was black which seemed to endlessly rain ash. Eye's trailing up the pale world tree above him,

“Trippy." Ezekiel muttered appreciating the dead still silence of where ever the hell he was. Not a soul in sight, dead calm stretching off into the never-ending horizon. Looking down to his right hand, flexing his digits watching dozens of razor wires swirl up from the wrist. Repeating the same action with his left, reveling as blood trickled from both while raising them overhead, lashing them forward to split reality in twain. Two gaping black voids hung before him, each offering their own sordid destinations.

Zeke looked each one over, sneering in disgust knowing that he'd have to go through both. Slowly growing to grin, realizing that if he had to go through with each, he may as well enjoy himself. Clenching his left palm and jamming it through the matching portal, he opened the claw set to latch onto something quite solid. The dragon gripped it tightly as reality began to pixelate and blur.

* * * * *

Left hand path

On the eve of a warming spring eve, its sky was clear save for a brightly established full moon which gave light to a large empty plain. Save for a few rolling slopes and trees, all there was to see being a single newly built apartment complex. No doubt a city bigwigs attempt to gentrify the open eyesore landscape afflicting most of the highway in every direction.

Atop the southwesternmost building, cornering its third floor, a bedroom window hung open giving any onlookers a sultry view. Air rife with coitus as it wafted freely, a male dragon with blood-crimson scales enthused in his rabbit counterpart, their loins joined in a sticky, lovely embrace. White fur lined every inch of her supple curves, soft paws tugging at the stitching of his right arm, a jade crystal hung nestled safely betwixt two rather large breasts.

“I'm so happy you came back, Daddy." Whimpering, half ashamed and fearful of the wrath of her betrayal, grabbing a scaled wrist and holding it tightly to her chest.

“It's okay Bunny." Low and gruff, his words came as audible solace accompanied by a wing draping itself over her side. Ezekiel's claws traced light circles around the Jade causing it to glow and warm in tandem with their heartbeats.

“It's beautiful." Bunny watched as it glowed brighter and warmer, the apple of her eye.

“A gift, between Master..." He started,

“. . . And Pupil." Bunny finished meekly, shamefully recalling her blasphemous act watching as the crystals glow waxed and waned in pace to their rhythm. Two draconic claws came together, pressing gently on the crystal at first, slowly growing uncomfortable as it embedded her fur. Smoke and the stench of singed hair quickly outpaced their musk, Bunny began to kick futilely until it broke skin. Tranquilized in an instant, the crystal continued onward as a lump of hot coal burning its way through flesh and crackling bone driven under Ezekiel's claw.

“There are places even I can't reach however, you can go everywhere." Growling into her lifeless ear, claws pressing the searing crystal to rest right next to her aorta. Image of her dragon's presence fading in mind waking the next morning to wonder if he'd existed last night at all.

One Week Later

Quigly's, a repurposed gymnasium bought and cleared out by a local gathering affectionately calling themselves “Harlequinn's rise". Utilizing nightly gatherings to reinforce their faux narrative of family, indoctrination, and unity advertised as neo-faith. New members being ushered to the front, standing before rows of dozens of already inline minds, forced to recite the line “I will smile with you." or else be yeeted into the streets as an errant vagabond. Yet, swaggering past all the reshaped pawns walked a curvacious lop, a BBW baring her signature center purple stripe down the back. Following in order with the rest of the night's devotees, eyes faded a soft hollow brown, attending smell catching more attention than anything. Nose drawing on the lovely aroma of a two-week-old corpse walking past, turning more and more necks as the front row of initiates filed to formation.

Each declaring their name, everything they'd shed by joining, and everything they'd hope to gain. One by one running down the line until it happened upon our rabbit. Her very skin looked a dire moldy white, afflicted by a rotten hue of light brown and sagging slightly off the frame. Composure shrinking the longer she stood, wrists and ankles twisting themselves inwards. Neck popping uncontrollably, rolling sideways and back upright, eyes set loose in their own sockets devoid of pigment.

Upon the mainstage before which they all assembled, stood a larger-than-average man-sized slug, luminescent tar black skin waving off a pyrotechnics show of alluring, hypnotic colors. Lips among other visible highlights hung a steady neon sky blue, eyes and brow slinging any sign needed to help one join the ranks. Yet despite every color pattern shown or motion writhed the new rabbit's eyes remained untethered. Growing frustrated he leaned forward, casting a gaze deeply upon the new girl who seemed to merely twitch, his lips puckering forward salaciously,

“And a mighty welcome to you! Young initiate, what might be your benefit of my presence?" Lips parting slightly, giving all onlookers a window into the most feigned smile one could observe. Lop merely twitching in response, eyes rolling upward until the sickening pop of her ocular nerves snapped, waterfalls of severely dehydrated bronze urine splashing their way down both legs to pool beneath her.

“Oh dear." The slug uttered, initiate's fur seeming to yellow as he watched, growing taught on her frame. Sounds of denim tearing ripped freely as bone began popping through each shoulder, body shivering while contorting in an attempt to utter her words,

“I will . . I . . will . . . . I . . . will . . . ." Her voice deepening with each attempt, becoming more beastly and demonic by the very word. Neck snapping to spin a whole three hundred and sixty degrees, jerking upward slightly as her eyes rotated upon the slug again. Physically reeling within himself as his new disciple crinkled in her own skin.

“I . . Will . . Swallow . . your SSSSOOOOoooouuuuuuuuUUUL!" Bunny bellowed, skin shredding in an instant, innards and rotten fur launching themselves in a landmine arc covering the immediate four rows of members, sprinkling the outer dozen in bits of rabbit. Devil red dragon peeling himself loose, writhing freely from an exploded lago torso, stepping out of the legs as one would remove overalls. Slug man raising an arm, finger outstretched in exclamation and panic,

“D-moooooooon! Come my followers, let this fool find out in exsanguination!" Ezekiel stood proudly, shit-eating smirk plastered across his maw, smiling wider than one could've thought. Wrists flinging a single long strand of razor wire in a curving arc from the wrist slicing cleanly through the immediately ensuing five rows, heads separating from necks in a macabre display of symphonic unity. Blood showered the already crimson scaly completely head to tail in warm liquid red. Hundreds of shiny silver-bladed wires crept from each darkened corner, snaking their way up the walls, locking every door, and assaulting the lights which began to flicker.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." He stood with a grin, neck fountains pulsing erratically as they showered the feet of further pursuers. Waving on with a mischievous smile, Ezekiel stood with open arms welcoming everybody who would lash at him, only to be caught not several feet out from where he stood by several or so freakishly long strands of bladed wire bursting forth from between his ribs. Silver serpents dancing freely through muscle and fur, breaking skin as sea serpents break the ocean's surface. Binding some as grotesque living rose bushes, attackers only tending a garden that steadily grew.

Slugman watched while follower after follower was ripped to ribbons or strung up, before all he saw was an old gym wearing the entrails and fluids of his communion as decoration alongside a fresh coat of paint. Bodies hung up on old hoops, mats, and bleachers, rivers running from the now shredded assembly greeting their lecherous leader. Nothing besides pure frustration curdled up from within our living neon sign, perching himself down on the stage's edge, addressing the vile red cunt directly.

“Alright, what do you want?" Calling Ezekiel as he spun on bootstrapped heel amongst a dozen or so bloody fonts, almost slipping on coiled intestines. The dragon composed his scaley self, fresh crimson dripping from every nook and horn, casually waltzing his way over to stage side, propping himself up with both hands and sitting next to the slug.

“So, are you gonna kill me too?" Slug feeling oddly confident in his awkward jab, drawing a slightly confused look.

“That's right, I know all about you. Machine butchering your fae lover over petty squaller only to have bared THE son." Smiling, confident he'd verbally subdued his assailant, Ezekiel merely pulled the infamous saw from his nether and placed it between them.

“What? Are you gonna saw me up just like the satyr?" Scoffing, in a worried boast. The dragon looked back with a warm smile, shoving the saw his way,

“No, you only saw up the ones you love." Smiling even wider with a soft cadence,

“No, I simply want this to end, I couldn't, the satyr wouldn't, so I offer up the chance to you. End this disgusting ceaseless curse called existence. At the very least, I welcome your attempt." Brow cocked in an unsure slant, raising the brutal war crime of a machine in his black velvety hands.

“I'm not afraid of you." Slugman boasted, unsure of the sky lizard's intentions, dragon skipping off the stage to grab the saw's chained blade and rest it between two flat palms against the collar bone ridge up over his shoulder.

“Good." He smiled holding it over his left trap,

“I just want this to be over. Pull the rip chord and hold that trigger, she'll do the rest." Otherworldly soft warm glow pulsing from the smile on his face, one of sincerity. Without hesitation, our would-be cult leader grasped the shitty little T handle, laughing maniacally as the little red saw in his greasy hands roared to life. Chain bar carving a gruesome path through the dragon diagonally from left lat muscle, with blood, bone, and muscle callously hucked everywhere in a thundering roar.

Ezekiel slung his head back, arms held out at a cross, Slugman grinning as he plowed his way to the halfway mark within the dragon's sternum, the saw oddly stalled out. Hung dead silent, the slug's cackles slowed to a halt just as the saw had. Noticing the odd presence of forearm-sized teeth protruding and outlining the path he'd cut through the reptilian hide, he pulled on the rip chord again and threw full weight into it, blade moving as bits of chip scored dragon began to fly once more,

“IM NOT AFRAID OF YOOOouuuuuuUUUU!!!!" Yelling in a lusty call, his tool worked its way down to Ezekiel's pelvis before stalling again. In the still silence, dark maddening cackles crowed from the site of vivisection. Slugman looked inward upon the gash he'd created, splayed stomach and intestines blended up as the cavity were rent in twain. Everything inside slowly began to spin, disappearing down into an empty endless black void, Sluggo had been so enraptured at this unknown that the feeling of someone physically next to him went unnoticed until a warm chuckling breath crested over him. Sluggman looked up, Ezekiel stared back down into his very soul with the intensity of a thousand suns, hidden behind those glowing eyes.

“Good, fear ruins the taste! BAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA!" Cackling as he grabbed Slugman by the sides, scales over his left pectoral ripping open and blinking as a newly revealed eye spun to focus on our succulent gastropod. Whole torso splayed a full ninety degrees, ribs breaking themselves free to angle downward amongst the much larger teeth of the maw lining his open halves. Kicking and screaming with a horror-filled face, Slugman disappeared down to the waistline in the initial chomp. Muffled screams matched only by a second deafening crunch, lower spine and pelvis immediately pulverized, limp legs pulled in one final bite. Still lifeless feet sliding over the abdominal teeth and crudely cut scaley lips to disappear in silence.

Ezekiel uprighted himself, admiring the large teeth now lining a mouth-like line diagonally sealing his chest and abdomen. Looking down into his new pectoral eye, it merely looked back up.

“For someone so fearless, He, did not, taste good." The yellowed new vestige blinked twice staring back before rolling dead center and shutting its lid.

“Alright, I don't know what the fuck that was about but ok." Pricking a claw on one of the Kraken beaked-sized teeth protruding from his belly line, he could feel the pressure exuded on the tooth and the prick of its tip on his digit.

“Okay........" Jumping in his own scales as the sudden slop of a loose torso fell from the ceiling and landed just behind him. Ezekiel turned to admire his mess, wires receding to their corners leaving nothing but a wonderful gory parade that drew a smile.

“Hmmmmm." He thought for a minute, whip snapping a quick inhale to fill his lungs and unleash a shower of jade-green fire that sucked up the very light around it. Curving in an s as he hosed everything in sight with a few quick sweeps, view left crackling or sizzling as bodies and bleachers burned. Nodding with an even bigger smile filled with accomplishment,

“Much better." Swiping the saw off the floor before turning to exit, the closest set of doors near him swung open with just a simple nudge. Clear sky over a brick alley greeted the man, turning to let a long silver snake double wrap the handle, snapping free from his wrist. Sounds of muffled fire alarms rung securely locked behind the double doors, their cracks pouring with smoke,

“There, all done." Ezekiel turned, smiling as he recognized someone just outside the exit, unmistakable double click of a revolver's hammer adding to the area's chaos.

“Oh! Hey Chur-" Booming battery of a gun echoed its way out of the alley, freshly painted with the contents of our dragon's skull.

* * * * *

Right Hand Path

Night falls upon a dreary little Irish town, stone buildings and guide walls dressed in the cool glow of a full moon. All silent and calm save for a lone fox in priest's garb, hands tucked in his pockets, tapping the cobblestone toward a local pub. With deep breath he drew in the cool night's humidity, even someone as collected as Church felt unnerved by the coming events. One hand perching itself on a taverns door, Church sighed knowing full well the carnage that was about to ensue, not because he was about to slaughter a whole bar, but the awkward conversation to follow.

Foaming ale, stone soaked in spilt whiskey, cigars, and farmer's BO hit him all at once as the place hung itself at the outsiders appearance. Church shuddered, snout crinkling in offense,

“I've smelled death, orgies of blood, shit, and rotting corpses but MAN... You fuckers stink." Reaching into his coat, Church withdrew a polished revolver chambered in .45 long colt, lining its sights up with the barkeep, he squeezed off a round. Not a sound was heard besides dozens of chairs scraping wooden floor as the keeps body wound itself up, spinning violently, wrapped up in a lathe-caught fashion while folding into his own sternum. Bits of shattered bone, and distended bloody muscle excessively flung about painting the meticulously organized bottles and everyone sitting barside before swirling into a black hole no bigger than a fist. Everyone's faces turned back to the fox who now grinned quite the malevolent smile,

“Who's next?" Waving his bushy tail in elation, ringing another shot down the main sitting area, catching four people as they began to shower the floor and their fellow patrons with brutally shredded bits. Sounds of their friend's crippled bodies snapping and contorting, seemingly sucked down a drain made midair, screams of agony driving the last few mad. Three farmers scared pissless ran toward Church but instead made a break for the door just passed him, although try as they might, it seemed to be jammed. Church chuckled to himself,

“Oh noooooo~ That, is, unfortunate." Chiding, the slow ominous steps of his heel clacking the wood floor drawing near. Stopping maybe 6 feet away, he raised his pistol, lone digit cocking the hammer,

“What to do, what to do, now that, I have, eternity, with you." Smiling even wider, showing off a muzzle's worth of stained sickly yellow teeth, yet suddenly he froze, what he'd said dawning on him.

“Why did I say that?" Church asked himself, bewildered beyond disbelief at his utterance, trigger finger slamming the hammer down upon the cowering sods. Sounds of peasant slurry briefly occupying the empty void in his head,

“Hai Church!" The higher treble inflecting a fool's welcome drawing his view to the bar, there sat coyly, was the quarry he sought to converse with.

“I should've known it wouldn't take long for you to slip out." Ezekiel, smiled patting the bar seat next to him, turning back to the bar keep, and holding up two fingers.

“Two beers please!" He called, looking around at the fresh paint dripping off of . . . everything.

“Oh, it seems you've killed everyone already. No worries." Zeke lept over the bar, ass bent with tail raised while both claws wrangled a pair of fresh whiskey glasses and an uncorked bottle. Grunting triumphant as he sat back pouring two tall whiskeys, sliding one over to his lupine compatriot.

“You take yours neat right? I don't think this place has I-uch." Church cut him off, the muzzle of his revolver tucked snuggly against the back of Ezekiel's throat.

“Shut. Up." The dragon merely smiled, slowly pushing the whiskey over guided by two claw tips, neither one taking their eyes off the other.

“Pitty. I didn't think the soul-swallowing perk of my pistol would mean I'd be stuck with you as long as I drew breath." Church plucked his gun out of the dragon's maw and holstered it, free arm raising the whiskey to his lips, letting the sweet barrel burn run its course.

“Well, not for nothing but you can't really kill the speaker, or any of the Maw's pawns." Drinking several gulps from his glass, ears perked back in an awkward, embarrassed fashion.

“Pretty much forced to walk eternity consuming life wherever we go." Church stared off, Ezekiel's words landing with dull thumps akin to rocks thumping sand.

“Tell me something, why didn't you perform the ritual with me? Why wasn't I there? Why don't I walk as you do now, Ezekiel." Church sipped a bit while Zeke's claws rubbed up over his snout and face to grasp the ears, his muzzle angling upward.

“Truth be told, I didn't know what to expect, merely that everyone in the order was misreading its texts. The ritual on the main chambers wall? A literal fucking translation on how to convene with The Maw yet no one ever seems to ascend. Why might that be? Hmm? Seems like it might be by design save for the poor fuckers like us." Zeke ran on into a pause looking to Church for some indication of thought only to have a paw wave him onward.

“And you? You're the only being I ever felt any connection to, the only source of relatability in this life. I view you as my brother, knowing full well neither of us knew real company other than eachother. And knowing what I know now . . . afflicting you with this? Wouldn't make me a very good brother." Ezekiel looked up toward Church, a rare sense of earnesty in his eyes.

“So what is it like? Meeting our god, being a plaything?" Church's snide tone really driving home a special distaste. The dragon swallowed half-cocked, abruptly stringing his thoughts,

“The Maw . . . . its nothing more than a giant, tiel, starfish lined with building-sized teeth. Its voice, so much more than just a voice, it doesn't just speak . . . it's voice is a presence, it speaks through you. And you listen." Claws finnicking around in the air to better help emphasize his thoughts,

“Its tentacles constantly wriggling their will into your mind, ceaseless whispers influencing every word, action, or thought you have. . . and with just the right level of immortality." Church began cackling meniacly,

"You deserve it. Every goddamn second of it." Every word landed in stride tailed by a cackle, laughing echoes met with a smile and a blink.

The distant call of whistling objects wrote themselves into earshot, ear piercing crescendo showing with multiple earth-rumbling crashes. Dirt showers rattled the bars roof, as several more whistles crashed through the ceiling. Wood, dust, and dirt clouded around them as multiple headless suites of stainless knight armor sized for ogress stood, wearing chain mail and baring angelic, white feathered wings, their pole axes raised at the pair. Suddenly, placed back to back, the fox and dragon found their differences set aside, each picking their quarry carefully per half the bar. Each thirteen-foot suit aiming an axe tip toward Church,

“What do they want?" Church raised his revolver at the blueish pair filling the front exit,

“We've come for the speaker that hath bared the son." The dragon at his back sunk into a glancing grin, ears perked straight up. Oddly disarmed, Church turned toward Ezekiel's visage,

"Zeke . . you didn't." Look of utter disbelief turned toward Ezekiel whom merely grinned wider with sickly happiness, ears sticking straight up.

“Congratulations Church! You're an uncle!" He held his arms out wide only to catch a view of his fox sticking the muzzle of his revolver in his face.

* * * * *

Narrow Path

Tossed on his back, under the all mighty tree raining ash, three voids loops now hummed before him, one off to his left, the second to his right, and now a third hung dead center. Dragon stood to look over the new reality loop, nothing special stung him until the all too familiar song of his son's cries called from within, without hesitation he jammed his fist in. Reality blurring into stirred hues, the very memory of time itself becoming diluted, slowly reassembling as vine-wrapped gravel beneath his steel toes.

It was a cemetery, the very same cemetery he'd seen and been to annually for as long as he could remember, lake surrounding a small modicum of graves tapered even tighter on this snugly plotted sect of land and highway. Lone hilltop cherry blossom in full bloom, spewing soft pink pedals across every inch of hallowed ground, chilling calls of a distressed infant haunting in echoes across reality.

“Oh christ, here again? Nicky???..." Ezekiel called, looking around not a moment later he was answered with the same shrill haunting cry of his spawn coming from just over the main hill. Thumping the ground a few dozen times gave a view of Lady liberty coddling his young behind Church holding nothing but a weighted burlap sack. Under the blessing of a full moon, the lake stood still, hybrid Baphomet spawn wriggling in the arms of a polished valkyrie warrior's armor. Church stood grinning a most satisfied grin, hucking the sacs contents akin to a bowling ball rolling a strike as a disembodied head tumbled to the dragon's feet.

Slowly, the hefty thunk of a beast's head tapping his boot rang home, looking down as a set of lifeless eyes paired back up for a dance of memories that flashed before him. Love, lust, anger, and ambition, all slurred together between satyr and dragon culminating in a blinding rage that wiped Ezekiel numb. The very crimson draining from his scales leaving them a ghostly white, red escaping to fill the sclera of his eyes, spooling each iris to a deathly pus yellow, the lake that surrounded them red, the very craters of the full moon itself seemed to bleed.

Their quarry disappeared, Church and Lady Liberty paused, a firm pair of rough claws grabbing them from behind,

“What to do, what to do, now that I have, eternity, with you." Zeke's claws dug at each nape,

“Let me show you the god you worship." With a dragon standing between, reality snapped at the very call. Three mere average mortals stood bare naked floating still amongst the deafening depth of the cosmos. Galaxy-sized Lovecraftian starfish casually existing, Lady Liberty and Church crumbling to a knee as The Maw spoke through their very being, as a force merely passing by. Deafening message clear and absolute,

“Conquer, consume all with avarice in my name." Very lifetimes passed in the matter of half a minute, worlds converging in the name of pettiness, the three now humbled, back at the gravesite. Liberty and Church collapsing off either side of Ezekiel, single scaled wing catching Liberty and his child, Church slapping the dirt.

“Your honor of once being a Valkyrie, is no longer recognized." Pulling Bunny's Jade from a pocket and holding point out, he drove the end seering a daimond with three vertical lines in Liberty's mask, just center above the brow.

“Now go, rebuild the order with what you know, and raise him as you did me." The plague yellow eyes stared through her and his son just as easily as the Maws voice, wing leasing them into waiting void portal, snapping them up. Church shuttered within himself, eyes searching dusty gravel for some sense,

“Now . . . . ." Zeke turned with a growl, straightening Churches confusion, everything seemed clear in the fox's mind, even the strands of razor wire wrapping around his ankles. Cackling as he thrashed back and forth trying to find anything to hide up in his paws, pulled and uprighted before Zeke, hung upside down. Laughing in crass chuckles with arms strapped in a straight jacket pattern, Church swayed gasping for air,

“You, Haha, you, Hahaha, you weren't kiddin, THIS IS A GAS! HAAAAAAHAHA." Pulling a baseball-sized rock from a pocket and doing his best, the fox swung with both hands, rock catching Zeke in the face, again in the neck. Each gushing smack splattered a little more until only a mauled jaw bone and spine stood amongst twitching muscle, yet the wires hanging him never wavered. The headless scalie only raised his right hand,

“ Heh, you can't kill me." Church began to cackle again, the wires hanging him recoiled pulling upward in a large curving arc over Ezekiel and slamming into gravel. In one motion every bone in the fox's body was shattered, most organs hemorrhaging yet that didn't stop him from holding up a middle finger and smiling. Several dozen more arching slams splattering fur and blood a bit more with each ground-thumping swing, alternating with the occasional swing against a nearby tree. Slowly dragging the bloodied mess back up in front of him, fully reformed skull looking over the no longer recognizable pulp that used to be Church. Dropping the mess into a sloppy puddle as it began to reform, reassembling into a fully formed fellow deviant, sitting upright on the ground, he began to chuckle.

“Hehe hahaha, HAAAAAAHAAHAAHA, haha I told you." Mocking as Zeke paced around behind him, claws slipping through fur just under the ears, curving around and inward grabbing just on the insides of the lower jaw. Ezekiel leaned down to speak in an ear, thumbs backing his grip on the skull just behind both ears,

“I know, welcome to the first of many deaths. . . brother." Zeke ripped backward, putting a foot in the middle of Churches back and torquing with every bit of strength he could muster. Cackling again as bone popped under splitting flesh, each second the fox folded a bit more in half until giving in one swift motion. Each claw set left holding one half of a fox pelt and assorted ligaments while the foreground was showered in freshly expelled fox innards and splintered pelvis, tossing the paired halves before him. Shambling and shivering, Church cackled even as a freshly skinned mess, his fur blanketing his back from the sheer impending cold he felt, eyes catching Ezekiel pacing around him.

“Cold?" Zeke growled watching the fox enter early stages of hypothermic shock, skinless muscle and bone grinning in a nod right as the dragon stood right in front of him. Eagerly whipping up a puffed chest, Ezekiel unleashed a torrent of glowing jade fire that sucked every decimal of light out of existence. Shimmering shades of green flickered and danced as they consumed bits of lupine body, turning it to nothing more than a pile of ash. The dragon turned, all alone again on a smooth-as-glass lake with the smell of burnt fur and barbecue permeating everything on the lake's center aisle.

One deep breath later and the serene calm of a blood-filled lake highlighted by a similar moon was all that accompanied Zeke this night. Turning he saw the severed head of his lost fae partner, walking over he picked it up, looking at the twisted amalgamation he'd bred in the pursuit of something greater. Lifeless greyed eyes starring back at him as it hung by one of the four horns in his claws, overall form warped by the twin that had escaped his very scales. Grasping the severed neck with both hands, pulling the slack-jawed cold lips to his own, Zeke planted a very deep kiss, tongue slithering its way passed the lifeless cold one to peak out and wiggle against his own palm supporting the spine. Lips splitting with a supple sucking pop, Zeke withdrew the head to an outstretched arm's length,

“Back to the earth with you." He growled letting the bit of slop hit dirt, stepping forward to stand over and curb stomp a boot through it. The shattered skull disintegrated immediately into a pile of writhing bugs and maggots under his heel, Zeke raised and stomped his boot a dozen more times until he went to pull up, and have his heel felt stuck.

“The hell?" Looking down he saw the maggots had exploded in an all-consuming white that not only clung to his leg but seemed to spread upward, making everything it washed over disappear. Zeke waived a claw through where his boot used to be, even grabbing the base of his nubby shin as the white moved upward. Pulling back his hand as each claw that touched it began fading out into nothing, realizing the breadth of his situation he tumbled over, looking to his severed leg as the white ate its way down to his other foot.

“Oh, thank christ, it's over." Ezekiel muttered happily, looking over to the gentle hill-lined tombstones waiting to greet him, reading off their names one last time as the white worked its way up his neck.

“Joe, Gunner, Danny, . . . Blu. I'm coming guys." Laying on his back, weightless and free, as the happiest, he could ever be, the black of his eyes turning pure white.

“Ughh" Zeke sat up, the very solid pounding of his head still being a thing, eyes shut half perched over himself sitting on ass.

“Welcome to Hell." Low deep, and gruff, a familiar voice called, Zeke cracked an eye to view a stout shorter gentleman dressed in a white suit, tattoo's peaking out from the collar and sleeves.

“You know you've made quite the mess? Kickstarted the apocalypse, summoned my son's soul into the mix, and to top it all off, you get to fix it, but far after it gets to fester." Zeke shot him a “fuck you" look as thousands of wires erupted from his back lunging for this cunt in white. Just as this cunt was about to wear a new steel suit every wire stopped just half an inch shy as this fuck smiled in reply, holding up a hand with every digit outstretched.

“And you get to fix it, but not until you watch it grow into the hell you've ached for. Five years, you have to watch, five years is your sentence. Enjoy~" Zeke shot up from his spot lunging for a swing at the suited figure, disappearing just as his balled-up claws would touch him with a legion of wires singing right behind. Shouting,

“THAT'S MY SON YOU CUNT!" As he swung into the blurred image, landing on the floor made of endless white, looking around he saw nothing but a blank void. Hearing a faint cackle from behind he turned to see a loop, shining through a vision of his son growing into a young man, unable to say or speak to him. Caught as a hellish observer, constantly screaming, unable to be heard, his spawn going through hard times, training under Liberty.

Eventually, apathy consumed him, laying back after countless days raising his palm while looking through on young Nicholas. Wires filling his palm in the shape of a young masculine Baphomet in the making, twisting and writhing in hand to imagination. Composing dozens of images and scenes between claws, he soon grew to know what he was capable of, looking from both hands to the world loop. Ezekiel grabbed the loops edges and raised it to his face smiling fanatically, a song beginning to blast across all reality.

Moral: While it is absolutely vital to assimilate the shadow, for those who recognize they have one. You must never let it, or your demons, consume you. Whether it be addiction, depression, anxiety, manipulators, make them your bitch, make them your friend, but it's your life, not theirs.

Credits

The Speaker: ESD Arts

Eldritch Abomination: Teach

Bunny: “Oh Heather, my heathen."

Church: Boobs

Pup: Some bitch I'd gift a toothbrush to, fun though.

Sluggo/Club singer: My favorite big guy