Break Point

Fuck.. {Instinct kicks in, massive arms tackling Tory from behind, dragging you, kicking and flailing, off Caith, and the female peels off the wall like a trembling leaf, like Tory's body slam was the only thing still holding her upright. Xhex's head whips around, gunmetal gray eyes trained on mine like laser sights} <<you need to get your psychotic female on a leash, Vishous>> {her words are gasoline, spat on the fire of my anger, eyes flashing violent white, fangs bared, hissing out words, fury turning every syllable to a verbal blade} I'm about on my last fucking nerve here, female, with you and your mind-fucking symphath boss...so unless you're ready to start world war fucking three right here in your club.. backing off would be a real good plan right now, true {fuck...my anger is Kindergarten grade compared with the snarls ripping from Tory, pure animal as she struggles in my hold like a shark on a short hook. Xhex squares off those broad-muscled shoulders, adjusting her leathers, with a look that's the ocular equivalent of a 'fuck-you'<<get your bitch out of my club, Vishous, before I change my mind>> {her eyes flash momentarily red, like a trick of the club's pulsating colored lights and she mutters darkly} <<Fucking bonded males.. get Ty out back.. NOW>>
*fury snaps at the arms banding me in a muscled restraint, hauled from my prey, feet grazing the ground and unbalancing the threat of my weight. My elbows crack back into solid abs, instinct lashing out with feral force, my entire being straining in steel arms to get free and the rage rides the air around me like I'm channeling the fucking arctic storms, soul chilled as raw anger powers my struggle...have to get free, have to get out, my threat wasnt clear enough...my mind is a black tangle, broken, tiger loud snarls rip in a flashing of razor fangs, distorting the conversation growling around me, setting the heavy pound of the music to drum the beat of wrath into my heart...there's something...deep in the dark wild recesses of my animalistic mind, that knows that voice, that has known the comfort of that growl but familiarity is beaten down by my past, another voice warping my shadow nightmares and turning the secure lock of V's arms into a threat to my life...why else would you constrain my anger? She's nothing to you...and yet you stopped me...trapped, battling viciously for my freedom, I am half aware that my thoughts make no sense, that past and present is merging in a deadly combination, and this helplessness...is not aiding me, the fury mounting, wilder and wilder, a hurricane in the distance closing in to tear me and anyone else apart. Onyx flames blaze a passion of hatred from my eyes, watching Caith scuttle away, voices everywhere...decreeing my fate...my foot connects with a kneecap, body drawn up, bowing in his hold and my entire weight fuels my defense..my fate is my own*
Fuck! {Pain erupts through my knee, momentarily thrown off balance as I haul Tory threshing and flailing toward the emergency exit...distracted in the midst of the chaos by a movement in my peripheral vision..released from Tory's death grip, Caith has stumbled away and is being held by a male...struggling in his grip as he drags her from the scene...our eyes meet across the room and over the relentless pound of the techno beat her terrified mental scream reverberates in my head <<HELP ME!!>> FUCK!!.. my mouth opens to call out to Caith.. my words are silenced as a whip of Tory's black hair flays across my face and the world explodes into red}
*I want out!! I want away...and I've had enough...throngs of people part as I'm half dragged, half carried towards the emergency exit, a flailing, brawling hiss of enraged female, head arched back, fangs snapping at stubbled jugular, that scent firing up instincts that threaten to disarm my fury and turn snarls to purrs..so familiar, my soul knows it, my mind fights to get with the programme but anger has a stronghold on my memories, the cage they dwell in unlocked by irrational temper and loosing them upon my body...uncontrolled, my bid for freedom jacks my head forward, snarl rumbling...and slamming back to nail V in the face with the strength of the storm raging through me, a satisfying crunch drawing a purr from the wicked elongated fangs dimpling my lip, pain flaring as my skull connects a solid direct hit that loosens his hold and sets my battle up a notch, limbs making hard contact with your body*
MOTHERFUCKER!! {Tory's skull slams back into my face, agony blooming like a bright red bouquet with the snap of nasal bones, the universe contracting into excruciating, crimson pain, blood spurting from my nose like a faucet, that familiar coppery spice flooding my mouth, my grip tightening instinctively on Tory, her legs thrashing wildly, torquing in the iron grip of my arms, blindly tackling her out the back door of Zerosum, a tangle of bodies spilling out into the dank darkness of the alley. Spinning Tory away from me, like some macabre dance routine ...I need a fucking moment, hands braced on my knees, breath sawing through the agony of my busted nose, spitting crimson to the dirty concrete, wiping blood on the back of my gloved hand, a litany of curses rolling under my breath, tamping down that primal retaliation instinct, the words bitten out through clenched molars} WHAT THE FUCK TORY??!! What the fuck...
*I call them blackouts, when rage is all you know and the fight is all you can feel, and your blood is acid in your veins, war an infection spreading through your muscles and provoking the sadistic homicidal tendencies normal people repress...my first blackout was when I lost my daughter, when Draven's torture was more than my body could stand and I dont even remember freeing myself from the shackles, just flashes of blood, and screams and the tearing of limbs from sockets, a cold mask, a machine dedicated to killing...I used to have them a lot, anything could set them off until I met V...and now I'm caught in it again, because of her...because I cant bear the thought of someone else touching Vishous like that...nostrils flaring, scenting blood, and my eyes narrow...blood means injury...and I like injury...know your opponents weaknesses...brute strength is a bonus but I'm fast, I'm brutal. I want to hurt you, instinct demands I fight, that I never expose my weakness again...never let anyone take me down....and V's curses flood his pain in to the alley, baiting the beast that lurks, ready to pounce and rip injury into fatality. Obsidian eyes glittering dark as midnight, stars hidden behind the clouds of an insane fury, coiled low, tensed, poised on the balls of my feet, viciously predatorial, waiting for the moment to strike...no words, not capable, anger restricts sense to mere growling threats, but that name strokes the animal in me, cursed as it is, and I settle back, shoulders rolling, tongue licking down lethal blades, assessing Vishous with a snarling* warrior....
{Registering Tory's snarl, my head cranks up slowly to come level with her eyes..and fuck!!.. the breath ices up in my lungs..it's like staring into the soulless, unfathomable pits of Dhunhd...cold reflective obsidian throwing back nothing but a disfigured, demonic distortion of my own face...I barely recognize her...seething, lips peeled back off dagger fangs, a cornered animal poised to strike...an icy chill raising the hairs on my nape as the air surrounding Tory turns glacial...there will be no reasoning with her, whatever evil had possessed my shellan, she was lost to me in this alley, lashing out the only recourse for the hatred surging through her... and it breaks my fucking heart to see her like this, but better it be me than innocent females...diamond eyes over-bright, meeting the frozen emptiness of hers...a murmured 'I love you' in the Old Language lost to Tory's snarling, spitting more blood to the dirt, beckoning with gloved fingers} Bring it... let it out..let your anger go..
*the ancient tongue seeps through the snarl of fucked up memories, bringing Vishous into perfect clarity...for a second..and then the provocation daring me to attack sends me into a blur of ferocious female, on V before his words have fully left his lips...my fists lash out, my elbows crack into ribs and my demons come out for some exercise, doing jumping jacks all over my memories, a tug of war with the past...images a riot...me, on my knees, floored from a blow after I dropped a crystal glass...and it's all I can see...how I used to be...my weakness, his abuse...but now, my body is a lithe powerhouse in dark velvet, death a seduction curling my lip in a smirk, nails raking skin viciously, fists a flurry aimed and landing blows, an uppercut to his jaw, a kick snapped to his chest, his knees, anything to get him on the floor, knuckles bruised, hands itching for my blades, but I cant get a break, wired to attack, frustration a feral coil winding tighter...spitting out* hit me...fucking hit me..*but he's blocking, no strikes, always defensive, keeping my blows from mashing vital organs, snapping a rib...why wont he hit me? It's not a fight otherwise, it's an assault and where my fists bust lip, crack the healing of his nose, gouge skin with my nails, Vishous pushes me away, dodges...eyes flashing the fierce shadows of hell, a blade slips through the strips of my dress, palmed in desperate frustration, needing the retaliation to justify the mental fuck up driving my body to attack, to pursue, to stalk and draw blood...it's nothing more than a flicker of mercury in the dark gloom of the alleyway, slicing deadly silver in a blur of motion to press to his throat as he reels to avoid hurting me, blade melting into stubbled skin, a snarl presiding triumph, pure victory, fangs bared at V* Bring it..
{Shitkickers planted wide..braced for the tempest of Tory's insanity, because the warrior in me knows if I go down, there won't be any getting back up from this fight...skull snapping back on my spine as Tory's fist slams into my jaw, teeth singing like a choir of fucking angels, the air knocked from my lungs as Tory's boot plants square in my solar plexus and I'm tasting bile and adrenaline and blood. Weaving on my feet as the flurry of her fists and limbs rain blows down on me in the blurring rabid assault. Reeling from the head shots, eyes flashing violent white, I force the anger deep into my gut, deflecting her attacks with defensive blocks..because I could no more hurt Tory than I could rip out my own soul.. and it might just come down to that...a rasp of metal on fabric, a glint of steel in the darkness and the point of Tory's dagger is at my throat...FUCK!! With lightning reflexes my gloved hand manacles her wrist and I'm ploughing into her with all the force of a fucking tank, slamming Tory up against the wall of the alley, pinning her with the full, hard length of my body, breath coming in ragged hard pants, stubbled throat arched into the press of Tory's blade, my pulse hammering out an adrenaline-fueled rhythm on the dagger point and my eyes turn glacial, leveling Tory with a demented stare, voice as hard as my eyes, a command edged with roughness, my grip on her wrist tightening, forcing the blade to break my own skin} What are you waiting for Tory?...DO IT..
*victory short lived as breath explodes from my lungs, spine slammed into the wall, driven into it with the full force of his body, bones aching, pain shivering through me...FUCK!! The look in V's eyes more than a threat...it's a dare that reaches into my soul and questions whose throat I have my blade digging into, whose blood is scenting the air right now? That name, always that name from his lips..it separates something inside me, and as I rage and snarl, fangs snapping and growling at his throat, body bucking and twisting, squirming under V's weight with a rabid clawing bid for freedom, the sharp tip of the dagger is pushed in deeper, scoring skin at his own hand, my wrist controlled in an iron vice...my tongue flicks over my lips, a hesitation could cost me my life, but this warrior...Vishous...is threatening his own...the internal war contorts my death-edged curves, knees slammed hard, aiming for a spot that would drop him to the floor and free me from this struggle, the black chaos in my head knowing only war, battle, death...a lethal mission that hungered for the breath to leave V's lungs as he surrenders to my fury...but still my resistance is strong, flexing, straining muscles lithe and bunched fighting his tug on my wrist. If Vishous is to die...it will be under MY power, not the vice of his hand. Leaning my weight, I slip the blade to blood*