The Sausage Factory [Cresimir, V]

Cresimir was quick. He was a creature of the night, an apex predator. The Hungry Night did not merely become caught unawares, did not get ambushed or struck unexpectedly--

But, as V's kick swiped across his face, the wound only narrowly avoiding a full cranial impact, Cresimir's wide, manic grin only grew all the more. Blood seeped down his face, at a speed much more than the first kick had inflicted, but it hardly even crossed the King of Nightmares' mind. This was what it was, this was what he always longed for. Fear. In this moment, his life was well and truly endangered, for the first time in a very long while. What a beautiful, exquisite thought that was!

"Am I? Is that an oath from you, my dear queen? For if it is, then I surely ought to throw myself upon you with reckless abandon, and wait for that promise to be upheld!"

He stepped back into the shadows once more, the darkness of the Illusory Forest practically swallowing him up. Red eyes appeared from the dark, darting about, watching V, but they certainly were not alone. More eyes joined them, all shifting about and ready to attack, all seemingly no different from any other. Which was Cresimir, and which was mere nightmare?

The one directly in front of her, as it turned out. Both hands clawing at V's midsection, with enough force to rip a typical person in two without the slightest effort. It was followed by a kick from below, and then a swipe of his cloak as it turned from mere cloth into the same inky darkness that filled for Forest. Could she handle him now? How he wished to know. He'd been toying around before, but now she'd instilled fear into him. This was far more real now, and even his wide, empty eyes seemed to convey a dangerous degree of mania that had not yet been present.

V could feel the dangerous rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was the highest of highs that she had always sought after, for at least as long as she could remember. What was she mad about again? The thoughts were starting to fade away from her mind. She was sure she'd remember once it was all over, but right now? All she could think of was beating Cresimir's dick in.

V landed with perfect style and grace like the absolute fucking badass she was and sprung back up to a fighting pose just in time to see her sausage stealing adversary dip back into his shadows. What a fucking coward, fighting with these guerilla tactics rather than just swinging at her head on. Ah, but which one was him again?

V was low and ready to jump by the time Cresimir struck again, but his speed was just a bit much and he ended up slicing open her other thigh. Whatever, she could handle it. Unfortunately because of her position, all she could really do was kick off of him and attempt to relocate and readjust. Her boots hit the concrete floor and left her back at square one again.

"God you're such a little bitch." She snarled in genuine frustration, eyebrow cocked in annoyance and teeth bared in anger. "Fight me like a fucking man and maybe I'll think about it."

Suddenly the same silvery white energy that had been encircling her this entire time, passively eroding at Cresimir's forest wherever it touched, started to condense around V's body. Those same energies flowed through her arms and legs, her abs that you could grate cheese on hidden away beneath her clothes, and every inch of her figure. From there, she took a low stance ready to fully engage Cresimir in man vs. queen combat.

"Alright, fuckass. Come get your ass beat."

"Oh, my magnificent beauty, why would I dare to fight you forwardly, openly, when instead I can show you dominance in the ways of the jungle, in the wilds? Fight you like a man, V? Why should I ever do such a thing? For to fight like a man is to restrain oneself."

Cresimir studied every part of V carefully, not simply with fascination, but with readiness. His whole body was tensed, and his own stance lowered as well, his whole body ready to pounce at the first twitch of weakness or hesitation. His wide, inhuman grin only grew all the more, so in his element was he. It had been far too long since he felt this rush, this desperate clawing in the pits of his chest.

"There is no room for such restraint in a fight for one's life. All that matters is to win."

He'd already been able to discern that, compared to himself, V was certainly not half as strong, still a young creature with so much to learn about the truths of nature. The one thing in which they were comparable was their speed, and indeed he knew that speed was the most important thing of all. Not that it changed a thing, of course. Every muscle in his body tensed, and then he lept forward, blood still leaking from his own wounds and trailing behind him.

As soon as his foot touched down in front of her, he once more struck out with both of his clawed hands toward her legs, continuing to target that part of her that he had already wounded. But while he had been toying around before, the full extent of his beyond superhuman strength was now quite apparent, his hands clawing through the air with enough force to carve through even the hardest metals with relative ease.

She had asked him to fight like a man, and so he would. She could consider it a gift.