Seth and the Prometheus Guild

Need to Know

Seth licked his lips, enjoying the aftertaste coating his teeth. His veins hummed in satisfaction, his head clear and calm. The successful hunt had taken the edge of his frustration, allowing him to weigh his options calmly.

He hadn't eaten much, leaving an almost intact corpse. While he burned some energy during the chase, it wasn't nearly enough to deplete all he had gained thanks to the horse. And in comparison, human flesh was simply lacking in taste.

As much fun as the hunt had been, he wasn't really clamoring for another. Especially since Donovan would make even worse prey than Benson, only having one leg to run away with.

No, maybe Seth should use this opportunity to find out more about his potential buyers. And if the information aggregated him, he already had a handy human close by to work off his anger.

Now that the adrenalin was waning, he felt the steady pulse in his injured arm. His feet were better already, the accumulated dirt forming a protective crust around them, but his arm didn't show much improvement. Seth took care of the wound in his own way - licking it clean every now and then - and surprisingly it wasn't infected, but it wasn't healed either. The dog's teeth had torn quite deeply into his flesh after all.

He had his fun with Benson. For the next one he wouldn't take his time. No matter how much he enjoyed the wilderness, his human form disagreed with the environment. For a second he even considered if he wouldn't prefer Francesca to suddenly turn up and fuss over him.

But for now he had something else to take care of. Grabbing Benson's arm he towed the lifeless body across the dew-dotted grass, making his way up to the squat building that the human had so desperately tried to reach in his last moments. The closer he got the more clearly he could hear Donovan's panicked breaths and the stupid dog's growl. The human had either heard something to warn him or was just tense in preparation, Seth couldn't be sure - but it also didn't really matter. Hefting Benson's unwieldy corpse in front of him (the human had been a lot taller and broader than Seth), he appeared in the doorway and was satisfied to hear a meaty thunk.

A colorful dart sprouted out of Benson's mangled middle.

Donovan's breathing turned sharp and quick. "What the ..."

And then he retched.

Seth was slightly surprised before he remembered that he'd sampled some of the soft parts of Benson's face, leaving a sight that humans probably didn't find appetizing. The retching was quite well-timed, though.

Seth quickly discarded Benson and charged into the room. Before he even took his first step, he'd already categorized the locations of all his targets: the dog on the right, too weak to jump out at him from his blanket nest and Donovan hiding behind a crate clutching a rifle with wide eyes.

Seth felt his pupils narrow, adjusting to the light. Time seemed to slow, every of Donovan's exaggerated motions so useless as if he was caught in disgusting jelly. Seth's teeth snicked forward, bitter venom filling his glands.

And he pounced.

Donovan might have tried to raise his rifle to keep him off, but it was all in vain - he was just too slow. Seth didn't care either way.

Donovan was frantically kicking with his one leg and screaming. Seth's teeth sank into his neck, the tissue and muscles parting beneath the sharp sickles all too easily.

Too soft, too weak.

"Ahhh!"

The scream grew in pitch. The dog was barking in the background. Something was bashed against Seth's head, once, twice, and he realized it was the butt of the rifle.

"Let go, let go, you fucking monster, let go of me!"

Seth followed the command, not because of the bashing but because his glands had emptied. Standing up he stared down at the human cowering on the floor, one trembling hand pressed onto the wound on his neck, the other clutching the rifle so hard the grip almost cut into his flesh.

His gaze made Seth feel alive. Donovan's pupil was but a pinprick, burst blood vessels coloring the whites of his eyes and his stare was hazy with terror.

Seth remembered the human's arrogance back when he was still teaching, he remembered when he was trying to keep him down with that stick.

Look at you now.

The dog's barking grew more frantic, but it felt like the air was frozen still.

"What did you do?"

Donovan's voice was hoarse and soft, nothing like his ear-shattering screams from before. The rifle clattered onto the concrete floor and his hand fell away from his neck with no strength left to hold it up.

Donovan couldn't move. His body was heavy, his limbs prickling, but it was as if he was cast in cement. Only his eyes followed his command, staring unwavering at the monster in front of him. "What did you do to me?"

Seth didn't answer, he was too busy contemplating if he should kill the dog before he continued with Donovan. It really got on his nerves with all the growling and barking.

Turning away from Donovan he walked towards the bundle of fur and blankets, which shrank back. Meeting the dog's brown eyes, Seth hissed one word: "Quiet."

Maybe the stupid thing knew it was this or death. Maybe it recognized him as a predator. Maybe it was simply too exhausted to keep going. But the barking receded into a low rumbling growl.

Good enough. Seth turned back to Donovan, who had slumped, the crate behind him all that was keeping him sitting instead of lying down. Seth picked up one of the knives conveniently arranged next to a belt of ammunition before making his way back to the human. It was nice and heavy in his grip, the edge a lot sharper than any of the ones he'd stolen from the kitchen.

He kneeled next to Donovan. Sweat was dotting the human's forehead, giving him an awful stench. But the smell of his panic was overpowering almost everything else.

Donovan would die. The venom Seth had injected would see to it, it would just take its time. It was a neurotoxin that blocked the nerve signaling, which caused a slow paralysis. Once it affected the muscles for breathing, Donovan would slowly suffocate.

Not that Seth knew exactly what it did. He just knew how much time it would give him before the human stopped breathing.

The Whitelcoaks had done excessive testing for just this reason after all.

Seth didn't want to think of them, but the image had already ghosted into his head. Whitecloaks standing in front of cages and test-tubes, one of them raising a syringe, the pleading eyes staring at Seth from the darkness, but he was helpless, imprisoned ...

Donovan's breathing was already growing wheezy.

"I want to know," Seth told the human at his feet. He wanted to know if it had really been the Whitecloaks who'd wanted to 'buy' Seth. He wanted to know where to find them. He wanted to know whatever it was Donovan knew about them.

And if Donovan refused to answer ... His eyes wandered to the human's remaining leg, the nice big slab of meat on his thigh. Seth gripped his knife and smiled at him.

"I want the other leg, too."