[MS] Like a Dog lyrics
Dec. 17th, 2008 12:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alloces[Set in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
wayward_au. Stolas = ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
demonbureaucrat. Follows THIS and THIS.]
It's If you treat me like a dog // And keep me locked in a cage // I'm not relaxed or comfortable // I'm aggravation and shame
“I think we should find an orphanage.”
Stolas had this knack for bringing out the worst in people. Naturally, that talent transferred over to demons as well, Alloces especially. Alloces knew that he was preying on the anger and tension, and the fact that Alloces hadn’t been in a good massacre in over five hundred years, and that his hands were aching to tear something apart. Alloces knew that Stolas didn’t like being told to baby-sit, so he was going to make this trip as pleasurable for himself as possible. Which, naturally, meant him using every opportunity that didn’t involve his powers of persuasion—that was the kind of thing that could get him killed when Alloces was out from under his control—to try and get Alloces to see things his way. But there were points where Stolas took things too far, even for Alloces.
He turned back to the demon with a glare, and Stolas just shrugged in response. “What? You need to do some killing, I need to do some soul collecting—two birds with one rather large, bloody and incredibly muscular stone.”
Alloces made a sound that was something akin to a low growl, before turning away from him. “I said I was looking for a fight—not to play games.”
“Oh, come on,” Stolas rolled his eyes. “You’ll still enjoy it. Just think of the terror on their little faces as you run in and start tearing them limb from limb.”
They’re children. It was Avnas’s voice in the back of his mind, a memory from another time, a time when they had watched the world drown, innocents washed away with the guilty as the wrath of the supposedly omnipotent father. He knew preying on children was wrong. She had always steered him away from the children—focus on the adults, the ones who could fight back. But he could feel the hints of civility slipping away. She wasn’t here to guide him—in fact, she was probably had been left to burn away to nothingness on holy ground, and he couldn’t even go back to get her.
When it came down to things, he couldn’t feel her. He wasn’t sure if that was because of the spell, she was being hidden from him, or because she really was gone, but none of the answers were helping him any. They only made his blood boil more, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand without feeling some kind of blood between his fingers. He did know, however, that if Stolas kept pushing him, that blood might be his.
He turned on Stolas with narrowed eyes. “I wouldn’t kill a dong on orders. What makes you think I would slaughter children to make myself feel better?”
Stolas paused on that for a moment, processing the words and then tilting his head to the side slightly. “What if you think of them as bait?” At that, Alloces seemed confused—bait for what?—before Stolas placed an arm around his shoulders. “Think about it—an entire orphanage of innocent children slaughtered, and the police can’t even begin to find any leads. Nothing but traces of sulfur. Who do you think will come then?”
It took a moment for the answer to dawn on him, his eyes widening in realization. “Hunters.”
“Exactly,” Stolas grinned. “I’ll get my souls, you’ll get your fight. What do you say?”
Alloces was quiet for a moment. He knew it was wrong. He knew that this wasn’t what was expected of him. But he was really starting to not care so much. There was a voice inside, screaming for him to kill, and Stolas wasn’t backing down on his options. He was trapped—and there was nothing he could really do about it. “Fine.”
“Good,” Stolas replied, a sinister grin crossing his face. “I know just the place.”
***
Saint Catherine’s Home in Idaho was small as far as orphanages go, but he could hear the sound of plenty of children waiting inside. He could hear the thud of the little heartbeats against their chest, feel the blood pumping through their veins. It was late when they arrived, and most of them were asleep, not suspecting a thing. He paused, knocking at the door and waiting for the nun to come to the door.
He knew that Stolas was lurking in the wings somewhere, waiting for his moment to swoop in and do what he did best, but until that happened, this was Alloces’ show. The door opened slowly, and the nun clutched at her nightgown slightly, looking him over cautiously as she did.
“Can I help you?”
Alloces paused for only a moment, blinking his eyes so that they flashed blood red, and then looked up at her with a smirk.
“Run.”
801 words
wayward_au. Stolas = demonbureaucrat. Follows THIS and THIS.]It's If you treat me like a dog // And keep me locked in a cage // I'm not relaxed or comfortable // I'm aggravation and shame
“I think we should find an orphanage.”
Stolas had this knack for bringing out the worst in people. Naturally, that talent transferred over to demons as well, Alloces especially. Alloces knew that he was preying on the anger and tension, and the fact that Alloces hadn’t been in a good massacre in over five hundred years, and that his hands were aching to tear something apart. Alloces knew that Stolas didn’t like being told to baby-sit, so he was going to make this trip as pleasurable for himself as possible. Which, naturally, meant him using every opportunity that didn’t involve his powers of persuasion—that was the kind of thing that could get him killed when Alloces was out from under his control—to try and get Alloces to see things his way. But there were points where Stolas took things too far, even for Alloces.
He turned back to the demon with a glare, and Stolas just shrugged in response. “What? You need to do some killing, I need to do some soul collecting—two birds with one rather large, bloody and incredibly muscular stone.”
Alloces made a sound that was something akin to a low growl, before turning away from him. “I said I was looking for a fight—not to play games.”
“Oh, come on,” Stolas rolled his eyes. “You’ll still enjoy it. Just think of the terror on their little faces as you run in and start tearing them limb from limb.”
They’re children. It was Avnas’s voice in the back of his mind, a memory from another time, a time when they had watched the world drown, innocents washed away with the guilty as the wrath of the supposedly omnipotent father. He knew preying on children was wrong. She had always steered him away from the children—focus on the adults, the ones who could fight back. But he could feel the hints of civility slipping away. She wasn’t here to guide him—in fact, she was probably had been left to burn away to nothingness on holy ground, and he couldn’t even go back to get her.
When it came down to things, he couldn’t feel her. He wasn’t sure if that was because of the spell, she was being hidden from him, or because she really was gone, but none of the answers were helping him any. They only made his blood boil more, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand without feeling some kind of blood between his fingers. He did know, however, that if Stolas kept pushing him, that blood might be his.
He turned on Stolas with narrowed eyes. “I wouldn’t kill a dong on orders. What makes you think I would slaughter children to make myself feel better?”
Stolas paused on that for a moment, processing the words and then tilting his head to the side slightly. “What if you think of them as bait?” At that, Alloces seemed confused—bait for what?—before Stolas placed an arm around his shoulders. “Think about it—an entire orphanage of innocent children slaughtered, and the police can’t even begin to find any leads. Nothing but traces of sulfur. Who do you think will come then?”
It took a moment for the answer to dawn on him, his eyes widening in realization. “Hunters.”
“Exactly,” Stolas grinned. “I’ll get my souls, you’ll get your fight. What do you say?”
Alloces was quiet for a moment. He knew it was wrong. He knew that this wasn’t what was expected of him. But he was really starting to not care so much. There was a voice inside, screaming for him to kill, and Stolas wasn’t backing down on his options. He was trapped—and there was nothing he could really do about it. “Fine.”
“Good,” Stolas replied, a sinister grin crossing his face. “I know just the place.”
***
Saint Catherine’s Home in Idaho was small as far as orphanages go, but he could hear the sound of plenty of children waiting inside. He could hear the thud of the little heartbeats against their chest, feel the blood pumping through their veins. It was late when they arrived, and most of them were asleep, not suspecting a thing. He paused, knocking at the door and waiting for the nun to come to the door.
He knew that Stolas was lurking in the wings somewhere, waiting for his moment to swoop in and do what he did best, but until that happened, this was Alloces’ show. The door opened slowly, and the nun clutched at her nightgown slightly, looking him over cautiously as she did.
“Can I help you?”
Alloces paused for only a moment, blinking his eyes so that they flashed blood red, and then looked up at her with a smirk.
“Run.”
801 words
