**WARNING: if you don't like dark, ick, gore, blood, or viciousness, you might want to walk away now. This is not my normal erotica.**
The street was dark. But, it didn't matter, Sariah's night vision was exemplary. He hadn't a chance in hell, and that was exactly what she brought him. He deserved it after such treatment. Snout to the ground she tracked him into that alley; dank, dirty, yet his scent fouled everything.
Her claws scraped the ground as she stalked toward where he cowered. Her muscles tensed beneath her tawny hide, her muzzle curled in a silent snarl as she drew in snoutfuls of his fear. She growled, low and long, and then tipped her nose to the moon and loosed a raged howl.
He trembled so that his shoulders rattled the boxes beneath which he hid. She crouched, a yard away, and then lunged. He fled, running toward the blocked dead end with Sariah snapping at his scurrying flesh.
"Here, Boy," she mocked between pointed predator fangs.
He jumped up, trying to climb the short wall between him and an unanswered prayer for freedom. She circled in agitation beneath his kicking feet, paced with vengeance in each set and swipe of paw. The wall gave no purchase beneath his scrabbling fingers; flesh left behind in the pitted brick surface. She laughed, a sick barking sound in the lonesome dark.
"Oh, now," she teased, "don't hurt yourself – that's my job..."
He crashed down onto his ass. Her hind legs bunched, Sariah launched herself at her prey. She slammed into his chest with a crash of bone and brick. Claws pierced between ribs, punctured a lung, as his skull rocked back to leave a bloody smear, bits of scalp showing through on the wall behind his head. His hands flew up to protect his face, yet they were scant defense against her Were frenzy. She smacked his forearm hard enough to break the ulna and his nose with the secondary contact. Blood gushed from his flattened face as he yowled in pain.
His flimsy human legs flopped and kicked beneath, and between, her heavily muscled hind legs. A knee even came up and crashed her rib cage. Sariah let out a short yelp. The fury she felt before was nothing in comparison to the blind rage she succumbed to. She sank her long fangs into his throat, encompassing the greater part of his neck with her jagged jaws. Paws braced on the ground and the wall behind him, she shook him savagely, growling as she did until the fight left him to the chorus of cracking, crunching vertebrae. He slumped against the wall, a sloppy sack of skin and tissue.
Sariah ripped out his throat and spat the meat into his face. She buried her muzzle in his guts, eviscerated him even as her flaying claws sliced flesh from his still limbs. Then, as final insult Sariah bit into his foot, dragged the carcass down flat on the ground, and desecrated the corpse. She squatted over his gaping abdomen, and pissed strong musky urine.
She kicked dirt into his raw wounds.
"Fuck you," she growled.