Who: Seraphina and OPEN (likely a 'monsters only' event) What: Having company for dinner When: Current Where: Mountain home Warning: Blood and gore
The house was isolated; a sprawling estate buried in the woods at the base of the Cascades, ostentatious in its opulence, so stupidly human in its assumption that a fence and gate could hold back the wild things that lurked in the tree-shadowed darkness around it.
Seraphina had seen it and wanted it, at least for the moment, and what Queen Seraphene wanted she took. Which would be why she was now hosting a dinner party there for her pack of monsters and their hosts. The man was older, middle-aged paunch and aristocratic nose, greying hair and a high pitched wheezing scream every time Seraphina cut him. He was tied spread-eagled and naked on a dining room table that probably cost more than most people made in a year. Sera like the way the chandelier's perfect crystalline light reflected off the pool of crimson trickling from beneath him and framed back the table's polished glow.
Even more she liked the hunger and bloodlust she could practically feel radiating from the younger wolves seated properly at the table holding fine china bowls as they salivated for the meat that was still alive and squirming. Some of the young had so little patience, probably why few survived long in their pack.
In the background, Chopin played softly on the home's surround sound system. Nude except for the dangerously high stilettos on her feet, Seraphina looked built for savage tribal rhythms and secret voodoo chants and sinister songs to long-dead pagan gods, but she actually hummed along as she carved the man up like he was rare roast lamb. She liked the strong muscle and soft skin of human thighs best and started there, passing slices of red raw flesh around the table like they were a sacrament. Their hostess, tied to a chair at her right, was a pretty little thing-- a trophy indeed, half her husband's age at least with blond hair like sunlight and high breasts and lips made for sin. Too bad the pretty human promptly vomited and passed out as she received a bloody bowlful of her dying husband.
Seraphina's laughter was the sound of smoky bells; she was sure the woman would learn to love it soon.