04-16-2018, 02:16 AM
When will these numbskulls learn that waltzing into creepy, unknown places was a bad idea? In almost every horror film he had seen, the ditsy girl that wanders into a dangerous forest or abandoned house or even just anywhere with a record of murders ends up brutally murdered. Not that he was complaining about an excuse to snatch up another lost creature, Beck just wished they were smarter targets -- this wouldn't be a challenge at all. Scarred lips couldn't resist peeling back into his dangerous grin as he idled not too far behind. A tactic his kind, or something, was perfect for. Weightless and never causing sound unless he wanted to, able to disappear from existence without much warning other than his apparition fading, and obsessed with revenge. He could smell the salt water from miles away, a sharp contrast from the swamp murk and pine needles his nose was used to. So began the slow chase, Beck relentlessly shadowing the ex-crewmate with a spreading twinge of rage in his chest.
The poltergeist was quick to action by the time Amaranth succumbed to her own fatigue. He ignored the wagon full of plants for the most part; he could steal them later. Sidestepping over cattails so he could circle around and ambush from behind while remaining unseen, there was no hesitation like before when Beck abruptly wrapped his arms around the tree trunk, guessing where Amaranth's muzzle would be and hopefully gripping her mouth shut with a frigid paw. His pearly claws snapped up to hook around her neck, sure to to break skin just yet. To keep her from wrestling away, he yanked her back so she would be pinned against the tree she was leaning against, tightening his grip if she squirmed. "Scream and I'll gut ya like the fish that ya are." the boy hissed from behind the tree, accompanying his promise by digging his claws into her fur and twitching them downwards slightly. He loosened his clammy grasp around her snout, just enough so she could mumble out answers to his onslaught of questions: "Who are ya and what d'ya want -- did he send ya, that bitch -- what exactly are ya planning, huh, where ya gonna try and kill another one of my members?" Beck's voice increased to a demanding shriek, shrilly snarling in her ear as he shook her with every syllable and becoming more violent with every moment he spoke. He wasn't about to let the Typhoon let a rat into their territory and pick off another unsuspecting rogue. Maybe he'll send a message back to Pincher by carving out a warning into her mutilated body; whatever he was planning, it failed to calm him down, setting Beck on the verge of a frenzy as the surrounding atmosphere dropped into a numbing temperature and his lantern-like eyes burned with a vindictive glint.
[align=center]»――➤The poltergeist was quick to action by the time Amaranth succumbed to her own fatigue. He ignored the wagon full of plants for the most part; he could steal them later. Sidestepping over cattails so he could circle around and ambush from behind while remaining unseen, there was no hesitation like before when Beck abruptly wrapped his arms around the tree trunk, guessing where Amaranth's muzzle would be and hopefully gripping her mouth shut with a frigid paw. His pearly claws snapped up to hook around her neck, sure to to break skin just yet. To keep her from wrestling away, he yanked her back so she would be pinned against the tree she was leaning against, tightening his grip if she squirmed. "Scream and I'll gut ya like the fish that ya are." the boy hissed from behind the tree, accompanying his promise by digging his claws into her fur and twitching them downwards slightly. He loosened his clammy grasp around her snout, just enough so she could mumble out answers to his onslaught of questions: "Who are ya and what d'ya want -- did he send ya, that bitch -- what exactly are ya planning, huh, where ya gonna try and kill another one of my members?" Beck's voice increased to a demanding shriek, shrilly snarling in her ear as he shook her with every syllable and becoming more violent with every moment he spoke. He wasn't about to let the Typhoon let a rat into their territory and pick off another unsuspecting rogue. Maybe he'll send a message back to Pincher by carving out a warning into her mutilated body; whatever he was planning, it failed to calm him down, setting Beck on the verge of a frenzy as the surrounding atmosphere dropped into a numbing temperature and his lantern-like eyes burned with a vindictive glint.