"Hey, mutant. Are you Dog?" she asked, even as she read the foot high letters carved into his chest.
She had awoken him from his cage. The other voice. Even as a separate entity, he still thought of himself as the 'other'. The invader in this simpleton's mind. God, compared to the feeble intellect of Dog. The superego straining to control the id.
The person on the other side of the jail cell bars was small and twitchy. Unwisely standing only a few feet from the metal door. Close enough to see the dirty, smudged skin and the faint haze of rust red that had collected on the old white jumpsuit she was wearing. Another faceless human in the parade of many that had come to this wretched city drunk with greed. Not the person he'd been planning on facing when next he woke. Displeasure sank in and he glared down at this pointless interruption. It had asked him a question. Was he Dog? Thankfully, no, he wasn't. "What you see belongs to Dog," he answered, gesturing at the grotesque mockery of a body he'd been cursed with. "But no, you're not speaking with him."
Her eyebrows drew together in obvious confusion. An ugly expression he had no patience for. "Elijah sent me here to bring back a super mutant. He said it would come with me willingly."
Elijah. His fists clenched, dirty nails digging into the thick skin of his palms. "The old man, hrrgh. Yes. Yes, Dog would have been happy to follow you. But he's hidden away at the moment and can't come out without the voice of his dear master to wake him. And I'm not leaving."
A cunning gleam from her dull eyes. "His master's voice?" She raised her hand, pressing buttons on the small computer on her wrist.
A throb of panic shot through his stomach, briefly competing with the metal links of explosives slowly digesting there. "You, what are you doing?" he demanded, but already knowing the answer.
"If I play Elijah's holotape..." she trailed off, clicking through files.
"Don't. Do not call Dog." One single warning. That's all she would get. Dog can not come out. Not now. He would rather die right here than let the beast take over, especially on the order of this overeager pillager. "I'm not going to ask again." His voice was cold and deadly. But he watched her ignore him, head down, still determined to lock him away again in exchange for the more easily plied Dog. No. Fire shot through his head, the hulking frame sparking to life from his anger. Most rational thought was cleanly wiped away. It wasn't quite a reversion to Dog, but a burning, red haze of fury. He thudded forward to the cell door in one large step and shot his hand out through the bars, easily grasping her by her straw-like hair and slamming her body against the door. Once, twice. A loud, satisfying rattle accompanying each strike of her head and torso. He let go and spun her around with her back to him, fishing the arm with the offending computer through to his side. With a hard yank from his overgrown muscles, it was lying on the concrete floor, decorated with tiny strips of bloody flesh where the rim had pulled against her hand. The little human had been too shocked to make noise up until now, but as the PipBoy clattered to the floor and the sting of torn flesh and the agony of the crushed bones in her hand were realized, she let out a loud sobbing scream. Music to his ears.
"Stop... stop!" she slobbered, trying to pull away from him. "You can't!"
He most certainly could. "No? What can't I do?" He didn't really care what this idiot human would say, but he would talk to it. Deepen the terror a little more before he tore it apart.
"We're linked! If you kill me, you'll die too! The collars!" It was crying and struggling against his powerful grip but completely unable to get away.
God drew his arm back roughly, slamming her against the bars again and making her hiccup with the hard jolt. "I'm not going to kill you, human. Just crush and tear until you can't even drag yourself along." A despairing wail erupted from her throat, panicky. Calling for help that wouldn't ever come.
"This is really more Dog's style, but sometimes you have to do something... distasteful to make a point," he said, not really speaking to anyone in particular. The hand not holding her still hooked into the back of the filthy jumpsuit and ripped it away, the old cloth tearing easily. She whimpered, more fear crowding into her voice if it was possible. "Maybe the next one Elijah reels in won't be so incomprehensibly stupid." God pulled the ragged cloth around his waist to the side, releasing the huge misshapen cock that lay there.
The girl had turned to see what caused the lull in movement, and went right back to screaming again. She tried another tack, desperation flooding her words, slurring them. "Please! You need me! You need me to escape!"
He laughed, a horrid chuckle behind her head. "You? You're not unique here. You're just another failure in a string of many. More hopeless idiots will be drawn here long after I've left this place."
Still she struggled, scraping against the thick blue skin of his arm with her pathetically blunt fingernails. His hand grasped her waist as she screamed and her feet slid uselessly on the floor. The other guided his huge girth up against her opening. Her body was jolting and lunging but she couldn't get away. All the struggling served to do was excite him, in the way of a predator watching weak prey uselessly scramble for freedom. Both hands reached through the bars and around the girl's body. She had started a low litany of no no no no. "Yes. You arrogant fool." He plunged into her and squeezed his hands until he could feel the thin bones of her ribs start to shift. He wasn't sure which sensation felt better, so he squeezed harder. Her gasping screams got louder and louder, masking the cracking and splintering of her bones that he could feel through his hands. And then they cut out. She slumped forward, unconscious. Possibly from pain or just mental overload. Either way he had a moment of peace to enjoy finishing breaking her ribs while he thrust deep into her sagging body. He was far too large to fit, and could see blood covering himself when he pulled out. He would make room. He slammed in over and over again, feeling the squishy flesh give and then rip under the merciless pounding. With a grunt he seated himself in all the way, relishing the hot gush of blood and fluids that was forced out against his legs and stomach.
God grabbed her by the hair again and lifted her to a standing position, body unnaturally curved and bowed out. He grabbed the arm that had had the PipBoy on it and bent it back against one of the cell bars. Still thrusting deep, he pulled back on the arm. Back back back... until the thick bone of the upper arm shattered with a loud snap. She woke again with a hoarse shout on her lips, entire body contracting in shock and pain. Her pussy clenched around him as she screamed out wordlessly, too many points of horrible pain to form any kind of coherent thought, let alone words. It was almost over. For him, anyway. The tight grasp of idiot muscle and flesh around his cock drew him closer to what he wanted. One last thing before he left this dying body here on the floor to rot. He pulled the other arm back into the cell, angling to get the whole shoulder inside. He could time this perfectly if he just waited... just a few more digs... harder... He drove his head down, opening his jaws wide and engulfed the right shoulder of the screaming woman. Biting down and crushing through the skin, the slippery fat, tough muscle, and fetching up against the bones with a grinding crunch. Hot blood sprayed into his mouth as his orgasm ripped through him, feeling molten and crude. He dug his teeth in harder, ripping and tearing at the now-useless arm, only attached by bone and the flesh on the underside. He ate, licking up the hot jetting blood and swallowing a bite of what he'd torn loose. Just one. After all, he wasn't as uncontrollable as Dog.
The human had fallen unconscious again, and he released her to drop to the floor with a wet thump. Both arms limp and awkwardly dangling, chest caved in, hand crushed and bloody, and quite severe internal bleeding. He absently stroked his hand over himself, running over the tacky blood and his own thick semen before pulling his garments back into place. Calmly, he lifted the cell key from the chain around his neck and let himself out, closing it behind him. He spared one glance at the bloody, mangled heap on the floor before stepping over it and walking out the door, leaving that one wide open. The useless thing would die. Eventually. Of blood loss or ghost people attracted by the smell. He would be miles away by then, planning the return trip, back to hopefully meet with Elijah this time. That would be the real event. As he walked through the silent streets his blood-smeared mouth stretched into a savage grin.