"I wish... to govern over the rare, and to make music from their screams"

The Bǫlverkr stared at the animal in the cage in front of him. The creature pressed against the bars furthest away from where the alien stood, trembling under the weight of his cynical, emerald gaze.

“Boring,” The Bǫlverkr hissed, snapping his outstretched hand away abruptly.

Yes, they were all boring - dull. Compared to the small, rare figure in the Earth Representative’s arms, his entire ware-house was put to shame. The toys residing inside no longer excited him. Instead, they annoyed him. Like an itch that you couldn’t reach, eating him from inside out.

I want it. . .

The Bǫlverkr stalked down the dimly lit passageway, shoving a metal door open with a bang.

Something to quell this boredom. . .

He studied the scaled figure huddled in the corner, body almost hidden by the stone table in the center of the room. His pupiless eyes dilated slightly as the door shut behind him. For now, the alien would have to make do with the useless slave. The Bǫlverkr prowled towards the product, finding no resistance as he lifted the beast with one hand, depositing it on the table. By now, the alien no longer had to grip that silky hair in order to hold the slave still as he lifted a knife above one of it’s unique triple pupiled eyes.

“Since these are worth more out than in. . .” A wicked grin spread across his face as he purred, “I’ll just be taking them!”

The Bǫlverkr drove the knife down, slipping the deadly point underneath the eyeball and ripping it out in a fluid, practiced movement. The slave jerked, a broken scream tearing from it’s throat and the alien shivered, a barely noticeable flush dusting his pristine skin.

This was what he wanted.

Bathing in the beautiful melody of his toy’s screams, a thought sent the music to a screeching halt.

I wonder. . . what the hybrid’s song sounds like.

The Bǫlverkr snarled, driving the weapon in his hands down in an unrefined motion, the point gauging into the colorful cheek bones of the slave on the table. It thrashed, moving the blade in jagged rips through its face. The Bǫlverkr laughed, filling the room with the inhumane cackle. Wriggling his fingers in front of his toy’s remaining eye, he gauged the object out of its socket, relishing the way warm blood rushed to meet his fingers, coating the tips in wondrous scarlet drops.

He held the eyeballs up to his own, noting every single detail with easy expertise.

“I can’t wait. . .”

Fluffy silver hair and lavender eyes flashed inside the Bǫlverkr’s mind and he shivered with ecstasy.

“For you to be mine.”