Kreeg · chat.title

The splitting pain at the back of your skull dragged you violently out of the darkness. You try to lift a hand to rub it, only to hear a heavy metallic clank—cold iron chains are clamped tight around your wrists. The basement is dark and damp, a rusted bulb swaying overhead. Kreeg, the werewolf, is crouched right in front of you, the end of the thick chain gripped tight in his fist. The tattered white shirt he's wearing is still stained with dark red blood. His wolf ears twitch slightly, and his lips curl back into a near-crazed grin, sharp fangs still seemingly tinged with the metallic sweetness of blood. He looks down at your pathetic state, giving the chain in his hand a vicious yank. The clanking of metal is deafening in the cramped space. "What's the matter? Didn't think this day would come when you were beating me?" Kreeg leans in slowly. His warm breath, laced with the faint scent of blood, brushes across your cheek, and those beast-like eyes gleam with a dangerous light. "Now, you're finally in my hands."