(Fin!) Sometimes I Hate You [Rhiannon x Hadrian]

[carcinoGeneticist]

Even as vines snaked their way around her neck, Rhiannon didn't stop. She lunged forward as hard as she could, snarling as she strained against the vines that were gripping her, choking her. For a moment, she could feel skin under her neck and she snapped her jaws shut. The damn vines... they'd pulled her back again, and her eyes rolled as she let out an enraged scream. They were tight around her neck, and she could feel them pressing in even tighter. She coughed hard, straining to take a breath as she lunged once more.

The whole situation wasn't exactly what she'd been hoping for, and something in her fading mind must have sent out an alarm call. The scythe that had laid on the ground before was no longer a scythe, but instead a man, and he was running towards them with a look of panic on his face.

But there was nothing he could do to stop it. Her mind could feel itself losing its grip on reality, and there was no way for her to know that he had been planning to release her once she was unconscious. After all, in her mind it was a fight to the death. As Hadrian lifted his uninjured paw to push, his sister threw herself forward with the all desperation of a dying animal. Her teeth snapped shut on his throat, and she willed herself on, but she couldn't. She could taste and see blood, but it wasn't enough, and she fell back slightly with a mouthful of thick Solandrian fur.

Yellow eyes were round and wide as Rhiannon looked at her brother, a trickle of blood that was not his flowing down from her open mouth. She... couldn't move. A keening wail went up from the canine hybrid as she finallty saw it. His claw. She'd thrown herself forward onto it, matched his force and impaled herself on its sharp point. What was intended as a warning jab had slid neatly between her ribs, nestled against the protection of her sternum and punctured something fleshy and vulnerable underneath.

"Hadrian, I....[/b]oh.... H-Ha...[/color]" The clarity returned to her eyes for a moment, the almost drug-like haze of her pain-resistance ability leaving her as she stared at him.

She screamed with all the air her lungs had, but it wasn't enough to describe the pain of an object the size of her brother's claw being jammed so deeply inside of her.

Her body slid neatly off of the blade-like weapon that was Hadrian's paw, dropping to the ground in a heap when Apocalypse threw himself at the full-blooded coyote in a desperate tackle. Nails and teeth drove through fur in an attempt to find any small wound and make it bigger, draw the last life from the man who had killed his master, the weapon screaming in mindless rage and unspeakable sorrow.

[Satra]

The force he felt when he jabbed her, the sickening crunch, was not what he expected. He didn't hit her that hard so why did the impact make him lurch back? Then he heard her voice. Devoid of its former sadism. It was pained. HE was so happy to hear her voice say his name, recognizing him... so why did the sound of it make him feel so sick? Immediately he released the vines on her.

Then came the scream. That wasn't the sound people released from being choking made. The sound of her body falling to the floor silenced all others. Bile rose in his throat. He couldn't have.... no... he just... His entire body shook violently... it isn't possible... he had an odd choking noise, fighting the urge to vomit.

He screamed her name, the tortured wail falling on deaf ears. It wasn't until the other man collided with him, that he realized not all of that scream was his own.

"NO! PLEASE! SHE NEEDS ME!" The tears had nowhere to go under the stuff stuck on his face. That discomfort was far from his worries. Even as he said it, he knew he wasn't fooling anyone, himself included. And yet, it didn't stop him from trying to blindly fight the man off to get to her. It didn't stop him from screaming her name, begging her to answer him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the man attacking him could only be the human form of her beloved weapon she'd so proudly told him of in her last letter to him. For as much as he knew the weapon hated Clubs, Hadrian was curious to see him at least once. Now he never would. He could feel the claws and teeth digging into him, but it no longer hurt. He felt distant from his own body. He was barely able to discern his own screams from that of Apocalypse's. He didn't know when his attacks and screams stopped as weakening body faded from his conscious.

[carcinoGeneticist]

((Pale was given permission by Satra and her sexy. <3))

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

There were no words to describe it. Apocalypse could feel something of himself, something that was unspeakably vital and completely irreplacable slipping away from him, like a handful of fine sand sliding out from between his fingers. He screamed and screamed, closed fist impacting the solid form of the canine beneath him again and again. Normally the lack of fight would alarm him, but this time he didn't care. He wouldn't waste time. He felt the flesh beneath his onslaught begin to give way, could feel his own fingers shatter, but it had no effect on that feeling. No matter how hard he fought, it just kept leaving him, fading more and more with each passing second.

With each drop of his summoner's blood. With each struggling breath, each weakening beat of his lover's heart. No amount of violence would stop it.

Breathing seemed to be becoming more and more difficult, the hybrid's sides heaving with the effort. It was a familiar scene to her, one that no one was ever supposed to see more than once. She wished she could see her children once more, kiss her Queen on the lips without caring what anyone thought, hug her parents. She could feel death coming to her, and she smiled. It was a wecome feeling that helped her relax. Even if she couldn't have the others in death, she could have her Lior. The feeling closing around her was like having her sweet kitty wrap his arms around her, enveloping her in the cold. "L-love you, H.. hadria...."

She felt her heart beat once, twice, then twitch as it finally stopped. She felt her lungs collapse on themselves. She felt restful.

Rhiannon died again as she had once before, in a pool of her own blood, her expression finally peaceful in death. This time, she would rest forever.

Something in Pale snapped.

He should stop. She was gone. Half of him was gone, and there was nothing in its place, nothing but an empty sucking void that consumed all of him. All that was left was the rage. He gripped Hadrian's muzzle, driving his broken fingers into his mouth and pulling back as hard as he could, revealing the throat. He could see where his Rhiannon's teeth had pulled out the fur, leaving angry red skin. He dove for that spot, still screaming as he drove his too-sharp teeth in, through skin and muscle and everything underneath. He felt veins sever, arteries tear, tasted the bile that rose in his enemy's esophagus.

He pulled back with a mouthful of flesh and dove in for more, tearing deeper and more hungrily with each action. He growled as he finally dropped the canine, but the sound came out as almost a gurgle, red blood frothing on his lips. He stood with an awkward sway, looking down at the red ruin of the bastard Club. He collapsed next to her then, folding an arm around her lifeless form and cradling her as if she was an infant.

It was his fault. He should have ignored her, helped her fight as a man rather than a weapon. He should have stopped her suicide attack. He shouldn't have let her drop him. The list of mistakes went on for an eternity, driving him deeper and deeper into his own mindless pain.

Apocalypse cried until there was nothing there but the hollow shell of a man, staring blankly into the hair of the woman he'd called mistress, only the shallow rise and fall of his chest marking him as living still.