[ON HOLD] [BOOK 3 - Female Yandere Lopunny] 'Til Death Do Us Part

Prologue | Anastasis

A pack of killer canines.

They storm through the forest, leaving behind trails of kicked-up dust and dirt. Their jaws drool and leak saliva vigorously, their hunger left unsatisfied for far too long. Now they crave the flesh of anything in their line of sight.

The lone Buneary runs for her sweet little life, her tiny feet barely carrying her down the trail. A few times she stumbles over rocks and ditches, but she won't let herself fall. Today should not be her day to die.

She weeps and cries, as if anyone will hear and come to her aid. Unfortunately all she can do is hope and pray to the heavens that her feet won't give out and give her up to the hyenas. But at this rate, she'll be dinner in minutes.

At some point the little Buneary tries to turn the path, only to become confused about the road ahead. All she sees is darkness where the trail falls off. However, failing to stop herself, the innocent Buneary snaps her ankle in the process of a harsh pivoting motion and goes falling into the depths.

She rolls and rolls and rolls, bleeding all the while. Her pursuers pause atop the hill, looking down upon her fall. They exchange hungry glances, pondering whether they should chase the small Buneary or leave her to rot in the lonely darkness.

As the Buneary's cries fade out into the black, the pack of canines decide. As if on cue, they lick their lips, simulating the fresh and bloody taste of rabbit flesh upon their mouths.

They descend after the helpless bunny.

At the bottom of this forest trench, the Buneary crawls on her tender little hands and knees, trying to get to safety. There are many hiding spots, and her parents taught her very well how to hide in the wake of danger.

It was too bad her parents were found by the hyenas and torn apart. Perhaps their lessons on hiding are not so effective against predators with that perfect sense of smell.

The Buneary crawls and crawls like a newborn baby. She whispers her name with each movement, all of which harder to execute than the last. Her fur is painted a stark red in some spots, sweet blood decorating her frail body. Her broken ankle is deemed useless now as she crawls and crawls and crawls, only to be found by her pursuers in the end.

It's like a fun game of hide-and-seek! The hopeless Buneary cannot resist any longer, for she has lost the game too soon. What a shame it is to have been winning so carelessly, just to have the victory swiftly stolen away by a salivating jaw.

Buneary screams as her arm is bitten into. She feels so small and so weak and so pained. Her screams shake the trees as the hyena biting her arm violently wiggles its muzzle, slowly tearing the sweet Buneary's arm from its socket.

With a crunch and a bloodcurdling cry, Buneary's arm is ripped off and falls into the mouth of the hyena. It hungrily chews on the bones and the tender flesh the Buneary has so generously gifted it.

Her beady little eyes are overrun by salty tears as she lay there on the forest floor, watching the pack of ravenous Mightyena surround her.

They all take playful nibbles at her flesh and back away ever so slightly when she musters minuscule strength to swat at them with the arm she still has. It's simply a game to the hyenas. When you have the time, why not play a little with your food?

The innocent Buneary whines again, her voice too weak to cry for help, despite help no longer being an option anyway.

She looks up through the canopy at a gray sky and feels a light rain come down on her forehead.

Buneary knows today should not have been her day to die. It should not have been her parents' day to die. It should not have been her younger sibling's day to die.

She lets out one last whimper of pain as a hyena squares its jaw around her broken ankle and tears it off. Another crunch as its teeth devour the flesh and bones, swallowing the bloody limb as though it's candy.

A second hyena cuts playtime short and now the Buneary feels a set of canine teeth around her neck. Her life does not flash before her eyes, because she did not yet have it to live.

There is only emptiness and quiet as the hyena chews into her soft, tender neck.

The Buneary tastes death, even more than she once tasted life. She cannot scream. She cannot fight. She only closes her eyes. Her neck is penetrated by the hyena's teeth.

Today should not have been her day to die.

Today should not have been her day to die.