Disclaimer: I do not own Skinwalkers nor its characters. They belong to LGF, After Dark, and whoever else screwed the movie up.
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Title: The Feast of Sex & Decay
Rating: M/R
Words: 162
Note/Warning: Sex and gore. Loosely ties to all canons. Written with earlier script canons in mind. Pre.
Teaser: That's what big, bad wolves are made of.
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The Feast of Sex & Decay
Raw flesh and fresh sex was all they knew. Human thinking remained; ignored and all but forgotten in this black and white and red all over world.
Crimson colored copper was the taste of their lips. Sugar-coated cream and salty dew on their skin. Sensory overload for human senses - but the only humans around were littered on the ground like empty beer cans.
Rotting meat was their bed, decaying away underneath the tangle of limbs they made. Wet-dog smell on their fur, but there wasn't water for miles. Sinews shifted under roughened hides – oh, the sweetness, but it wasn't the change shuddering through them now.
The slap of flesh against flesh on top of flesh was sickeningly loud; moistness always made impact harder. Their mothers always told them never play with your food; but that was when they were sugar and snails, snips and spice.
She wasn't made of anything nice, and that was no puppy's tail between his legs.