And better yet, he liked it. His attention was drawn back to the bloody, abused girl in his hands. He carried her by the throat back through the door ...nd down the rickety basement steps. Her fingers were digging into his hands, nails drawing bloody furrows, her bare feet were kicking at his legs. He didn’t feel it. All he felt was the pull of attraction to the knife. The pull to the power, the omnipotence of having control over life and death. He felt his Purpose. Her struggles became weaker. Each time the growl became a little louder, Lobo would touch her with his muzzle and the sound would stop for a while.Now that Morales was closer, he tried to see what was wrong with her foot, but all he could determine was that she was favoring it and it was obviously swollen.With his food on his plate, Morales didn’t sit on his padded rock and lean back against the wall as he usually did while eating. Steeling himself and trusting Lobo to keep him safe, he slowly sank to his butt only a few. More

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