He had been on a spree.

It wouldn't be hard to find him, just follow the trail of animals entrails. His guardian had tried his best to keep the beast contained, but the raw, unwanted rage that bubbled and foamed from his mouth was too much for the one guard to keep away form the others.  The guard thought it best to let the beast out, away form others, and feed it's bloodlust.  It was known that this thing was the child of Queen Serrate and Hawthorne, but the temperament that it had, was not of this world.   The guard let him loose where no one was known to roam, on the white sand beach, which had now been tainted with the deep red color that Draconyx had stolen from the innocent creatures he'd found along the way.  

The guard had left him to do his bidding, to wear himself out before he had to be dragged back to confinement.  Which meant, Draconyx had no supervisor, he had nothing, or no one to hold him back.  He was a monster loose on the outskirts of Gemini, a raging mess of fury and teeth, looking to their next throat to bite, and tear.  Inside, the small boy was curled around himself, whining, wanting the loving touch of a sibling, or the embrace of his mother.  Neither of which he had been able to receive since birth.

Instead, he had almost killed his sibling with a less than loving embrace of teeth and rage.  

Instead he wanted to rip, and shred, and destroy everyone that only wanted to love him.  

He did not know the definition of affection, or an embrace, or of love.  The words and ideas were foreign to him, and they most likely would always be foreign to him. He would never know love, he would never know what kind of healing a hug could give.  What weight an apology and forgiveness could lift from his muscled shoulders.  He would never know these things.  

And so these were replaced with blood.  And rage.  And Anger. And so much hate.  

So he continued to tear, and rip, and leave the trial of carnage behind.

Alone.  



... And filled with fear.

She had often tried to forget her estranged brother.

Draco was a loose pistol; had been so from birth. She didn’t know what his fucking damage was, and nobody cared to explain. They had him locked up with nameless, faceless guards; Bell had passed by his new “home” many a time growing up. There was always a stench of iron that followed.

Today was one of those days, of idle-wandering-in-the-direction-of-your-psychotic-brother’s-prison, but the blood’s scent … weaved from the mouth of the den through the brush and trees, and her heart leapt to her throat. The guard was still there, but … he seemed fidgety, nervous, and without missing a beat Bell locked onto the scent and sprinted to its final stopping point.

Helped along by cutely disemboweled critters – eat your fucking heart out, Snow White – she reached the sandy shores of the beach, straight to the beastly figure who would surely mar the stellar reputation of Gemini once he outgrows that awkward phase of being a teen.

“Hey, bro. Didn’t ma tell you not to play with your food?”

Closing the gap of distance between them, she lowered her head and tucked her tail to appear as harmless as possible to the sibling who boiled like a pressure cooker.

“Let’s go get you back to your place, Draco. You shouldn’t be out here.”

Red eyes were focused on disemboweling whatever poor creature had crossed his path most recently. Though it was chaotic, there was method behind it, hard to see, but it was there. The throat was first, followed by the eyes, those eyes that judged. Those eyes that feared. Why were they so frightened all the time? All the eyes were so scared, so sad, so fearful. There was no love behind them, or understanding, just fear. He HATED that. Even behind the red fury, the little boy HATED saw no love from anyone. No one cared for him, they just left him alone. no one cared.

Why were they so scared, he was scared, he was alone, he had no one, he WAS ALWAYS SCARED.

“Hey, bro. Didn’t ma tell you not to play with your food?”

Ears turned, and head lifted slowly from the carcass, blood dripping from his maw, he tuned slowly. Breathing deeply, every exhale was on the back end of a low snarl. He did not recognize her, as he did not recognize anyone. Ears pinned back onto his head, and lips curled upwards into a snarl. Tongue darted out to lick his iron stained lips, barring those pointy teeth. He did not stand, but his eyes followed her every movement, every bow of her head, every curl of her tail.

“Let’s go get you back to your place, Draco. You shouldn’t be out here.”

Every soothing, fearful word that she exhaled. She was afraid. WHY WAS EVERYONE ALWAYS AFRAID?!

One,

two,

three.

Three heartbeats between her words was all it took for the hair trigger son of the Red Queen to launch himself off the ground, towards his sister, always aiming for the face, always aiming to mar, and maim, and kill.

Red blurred his vision, Red coursed through his veins, Red was what he needed, what he wanted. Red, red, red.

--------

Red. Was what would soon stain the ground.