Alstromeria
Florian Society Member
Marcellus cracked his neck. "Yeh bluddy what? Excuse you." Marcellus said dangerously, reverting to his childhood scottish accent, like he always did when he was angry. "Oi'll bash ye fookin' ead in." One of the jocks came at him from the front. Marcellus flipped him over his shoulder like he weighed no more than a basketball. The second threw a kick at him, but Marcellus's hand shot out, twisting his leg, throwing him to the ground. He punched him two, three times in the gut, then stood up and stomped on his head. The third grabbed him from behind, putting him in a headlock, and the other threw a powerful punch at his face. The fist connected, but the jocks eyes widened. Marcellus's hair barley moved from the blow. He jerked his head back, smacking the one behind him in the face, then threw a viscious uppercut at the fourth one, knocking him out cold. Marcellus whirled around, the last one had caused Aubrey to cut herself. There was blood. BLOOD. Marcellus gripped at his head, fighing his insticts, instead launching himself at the last jock, who was currently after Aubrey. But with a combination of adrenaline and bloodlust, Marcellus bit into his neck, crushing his windpipe, and finally, FINALLY quenching his thirst. The other jocks were unconscious, and this one died almost instantly. Marcellus's shirt had splotches of blood on it, and he licked at the droplets on his arm almost ravenously. He realized Aubrey was still here. "Fuck." He groaned, his voice returning to normal.