Entreißen [PaperHat]

Kerzenleuchter

Golden Monarch had been resilient. He'd survived having his bones broken, losing his arms and legs, and even an eye. It was only as BlackHat's claw neared his remaining eye when he started actually talk.

"He's in France!" Was the first thing that he screamed. He was shaking violently, and trying to pull his face from BlackHat's claw. "He's in France and he's already been sold!"

"Sold?" BlackHat snarls and pulls his face closer. "To who?"

Golden Monarch doesn't respond, instead the full weight of the situation finally seems to dawn on him and he dissolves into gross sobs. It was rather pathetic to watch, a partially blind torso shivering and blubbering.

"Keep focus would you, Monarch?" He snaps and lowers his claw into the man's eye socket. A scream rips through him as the eye pops. BlackHat curls his talon inside his socket before pulling it out.

"Do tell where my scientist is, you lowlife scum." He says. Golden Monarch yells a bit more, face twisting up in pain and terror. BlackHat lets him squirm for a moment, practically drinking in the man's agony. The absolute pleasure that BlackHat derived from the shakily hovering torso and head in front of him was almost palpable.

When he still doesn't talk his pleasure quickly sizzles out. He would rather prefer to have him speak than have to scavenge about Golden Monarch's papers to figure it out himself. It'd be much easier for the both of them if he'd spit it up already.

"Tšernobog!" He yelps as BlackHat curls a claw around his throat. He squeezes to tell the demon to continue. "He lives north of Brunnenkopf!"

"Brunnenkopf?" BlackHat hisses and loosens his hold on his neck. "Where is that?" He demands.

Demons are resilient creatures. The mere fast Golden Monarch has survived this long is a testament to that. But the blood loss and trauma is taking its toll on his body.

BlackHat can tell he's losing him by the way his mouth hangs open and his eyelids fall closed over empty and blood filled sockets. Somehow, the short stubs that are his appendages still dripped with blood, not yet dried even after a long while of trying to have him talk.

He drops the demon's body onto the blood soaked carpet. The body hits with a soft thud, Golden Monarch's head lolls to the side as the last of his life slips from him into the carpet below, and perhaps leaking into the floor below.

Now, he'd have to figure out where Brunnenkopf is himself. Which should be no problem, of course. A being of BlackHat's demeanor could easily pull information from lesser creatures. Be it they didn't die before he extracted what he needed.

After the short meal Flug was lead back upstairs and into a bathroom. Those faded pink eyes bore into his like an animal to its prey. Flug is backed against the sink counter.

The bathroom door is pushed closed with Tšernobog's heel as the demon picks Flug up from under his knees and sets him down on the counter. The marble is cold, even through the fabric of his pants. He's pushed back, a candlestick holder digs into his back.

"It would be a shame to wash off my scent now that it's finally making itself present, but we'll have plenty of time to cover you in my scent." Tšernobog says as he begins to undo the buttons at the top of Flug's shirt.