Hephaestus

His thoughts were filled with the corrupt image of family as he wandered down those forgotten paths. What family? What life? He had no family. He had no life, no soul. . .

Or did he? Perhaps somewhere within those deep, dark recesses, there was something, a flicker that could not be missed. . .

His nose twitched suddenly, causing a shiver of delight to fill him. The dragon inhaled deeply, letting the distinct aroma of life roll over his tongue. Another victim, completely ready for the taking. His claws flexed involuntarily as a wicked smile curled his lips.

Quieter than a mouse, the dragon made his way down the hall, feeling the familiar touch of bloodlust come to his. His cracked lips pulled back into a snarl. He was hungry and now was the time to feed.

His victim was not a pretty sight. He was dark faced and a limp had weakened his movements considerably. But once he was done with him. . . oh, but he mustn't get too ahead of himself.

Each bite was pure bliss to his. As he devoured the dragon whole, he felt supreme power return to him, restoring his place within a life of cannibalism. Blood ran down his jaw, staining his scales a glorious crimson. How I used to love the color red, he thought cynically. There is nothing left in me now. . . nothing left but untarnished gold. He smiled suddenly. And the utter absence of a heart.

His victim no longer looked like a dragon; he was now little more than a puddle of bones spluttering on the floor. A pale liquid had begun to drip out of him, pooling over ripped meat and open wounds. His bones were visible in the light, along with knots of flesh that clung desperately to his skin.

"St-sto-stop. . ." the victim moaned, his voice catching as he choked on blood and flesh. He had torn so much from him that he looked like a pale skeleton in the blacklight. "Wh-what do y-you want? M-money? G-glory? F-food?" He flailed his arms helplessly, though they were too ravaged now to do anything but hang limply from his gaunt figure.

"No." Hephaestus felt a cold smirk hit his face, as if the Moon had conquered the Sun and there was nothing left but a burning, burning field.

"I want you. Your memories. Your thoughts. Your love. I want to rip you limb from limb until you're a living corpse.

"And then? Once you're utterly gone, a stranger in your very own body. . ." Hephaestus snarled, revealing sharp fangs that glistened with ruby blood. ". . . I want your heart."

-by Aquira