Deliverance [malexmale]

Prologue

Prologue

"See you on Saturday, Fritz!"

The sound of laughter and music vanished as the bar door slammed shut and Fritz chuckled to himself, his breath coming out in clouds that faded into the cold night. He paused to adjust his black pinstriped fedora, tipping it back so he could stare up at the round silver moon overhead, a stream of clouds passing in front of it. His nose twitched as he inhaled the scents around him.

Beer, vomit, garbage, and did he detect a hint of death nearby?

A smirk curved the corner of his lips, thick canines glinting in the moonlight as he tipped his hat down and pulled his long wool coat closer to himself, stepping off the back stoop into the alley. He held the predatorial lope of a werewolf, the eerie animalistic glint in his eye as dim streetlights shown nearby. He kept to the alleys, though.

Werewolves needed to feed at least two during this time of the month, and he hadn't yet to get even a single meal.

He could smell someone nearby, hear them coughing weakly and a sick thrill went through him at taking the life of someone so weak and pathetic. He'd savor them slowly, maybe even take more than just a meal with them. He hadn't had a good fuck in weeks, not since the whore at the whorehouse in Duat. He could still hear the poor slut's screams as he tore into her, left enough bite marks to keep her infected for centuries.

He was cruel. He was merciless.

He was a predator.

And he was on the hunt.

He stalked toward his chosen prey, listened to the way their heart picked up, beating rapidly, as if they could sense him lurking nearby. He clung to the shadows he called his friends, licking his chops hungrily as he spotted the weak lump between a couple of garbage cans and he could almost laugh at his luck tonight.

Finally, he could eat someone without getting called out by the authorities. Just thinking about the demonic little redhead bastard that ran their city made his skin crawl. It was all because of that ginger fuckboy that he'd been reduced to feeding in alleyways. It wasn't just the fact that he mangled his prey, but the dark history that leered over his shoulders and the shoulders of every person who had ever attended the gothic club down on Lyathius Avenue.

What he wouldn't give for another night with the pathetic omega bitch he'd had in that bathroom. His stomach growled just thinking about it and a heaviness settled in his groin, making him reach down to palm the hardness there. He was starving for another bite at that asshole they'd pinned down in the public bathroom. He was still outrageously pissed that that bitch never looked at him with fear like his other victims.

Ugh! It really stuck in his craw that he couldn't make that hybrid monstrosity scream. He just laid there and let it happen.

Pathetic.

Revved up and ready to go with malice and hunger coursing through his veins, Fritz removed his hat and smoothed back his black hair, placing the fedora on a trash lid nearby before he moved silently across the alleyway toward the homeless man bent over a tiny fire lit in a can to keep him warm.

If anything, Fritz thought gleefully, flexing his fingers in preparation to catch the man around the throat, this bastard should be grateful that I'm saving him from a life of poverty. He moved until he stood right behind the man, arching to gain the momentum when the man moved. One second, he was hunched over, hacking into his fist, and the next he was on his feet and shoving Fritz stumbling back into the shadows.

Fritz swung, but his fist was cast aside as if nothing more than a moth coming at the man's face. He reached for his switchblade, but the man sent an uppercut into his jaw and sent him crashing into the side of the brick house behind him. Fritz coughed and choked for breath, leaning against the building, waiting for the man to finish him off, take his wallet, something, but the man only stood there.

He couldn't make out any of the man's features. He was dressed entirely in black, blending in with the shadows, black paint painted across his eyes, a mask hiding the bottom half of his face.

"Who the fuck are you?" Fritz snarled when he realized the man wasn't going to attack him further. He waited to hear his voice, to see if this was a cruel prank sent by his asshole friends at the bar or if he was being jumped by yet another man out to take vengeance on his daughter or sister. When the man didn't respond, Fritz flashed him a nasty grin.

"Are you here to punish me for what I did to your lover, is that?" He challenged.

No response.

"Or what? You want some of this too?" Fritz clutched the crotch of his pants and made an obscene rutting gesture. He heard the man's gloves creak and a sick thrill went through him at the thought of pissing this man off. Apparently this guy thought he was tough shit, luring Fritz in and attacking him, and now chickening out? Fritz's mind twisted it to suit his current aroused and hungry state.

"All right, then. Let's see what you got," Fritz crooned, then launched himself off the side of the brick house to attack the man, but he was gone a second later and Fritz cursed, whirling around to search for him when he felt the breeze stir behind him and his eyes widened in horrified realization.

An arm came around his throat, constricting his airways, another arm going around him just enough to ram a silver dagger into his gut. He expected just a stab, just an innocent burning stab, but the man didn't just stab him.

The silver dagger tore a jagged path from navel to throat and Fritz's eyes rolled up in his head, his scream choked by blood that poured past his lips and soaked the front of his coat. Blood splattered to the cobblestone alley, steaming hot intestines piling out after it.

Fritz's body collapsed to the alley, eyes staring into nothingness as his blood pooled around him.

The man stooped over, wiping the dagger across the back of Fritz's coat before shoving it into a sheath strapped to his left leg. He straightened up, staring down at the corpse before looking up at the moon that shone brightly against a pair of dark cold eyes.