Therion Devours

Link to article: Therion Devours.

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[[=]]

[[image https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/therion-devours/Coldest_Asshole.jpg]]
++ The Disposal of Babalon
----

+++ Author:
[[*User Fantem]]

+++ Illustrator:
[[*User Opossumistic]]
[[/=]]

----
[[=]]
⚠️ **Content warning:** This story contains technical transphobia/deadnaming, strong language, blasphemy, domestic abuse and violence, mental and emotional abuse, and mentions of sexual abuse and violence.
[[/=]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]

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[[=]]
[[image https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/Therion-devours/Therion_Devours.png style="width:100%;" alt="Therion Devours."]]
----
+ ##70D8E5|THE DISPOSAL OF BABALON##
[[/=]]

Therion Theleman.

King of the 7th Circle of Inferno. Lord of Violence. Financial expert. Father. And [[[SCP-7603|up until recently,]]] a married man.

The infernal king regretted having to end such a wonderful party early, but he needed to tend to the remains of his permanently comatose ex-wife, and salvage her power. Additionally, it would be irresponsible considering his latest acquisition.

Babalon’s signature weapon, Blood Rose, was capable of mass-devastation using a process where, in the right hands, would condense every demon and angel in a Circle into a harmless soul gem. Just the **threat** of being the only person capable of doing that was reason enough to obey.

The only problem; the “right hands” consisted of two people. Babalon, whose hands were currently being used to make a delicious curry along with the rest of her flesh, and their child Pluto, who was ‘too much of a pussy’ to go through with it.

If only Babalon didn’t place a cosmological patent on it. Therion would have been able to simply recreate it from scratch, or hire someone else to do so. But, no. Now he would need to go through Pluto.

He looked at the late Queen Babalon with a satisfied smirk. “I think I had a change of heart. Maybe I should listen to you more. After all, Blood Rose **is** your own discovery. Go on, don’t be shy. I’m all ears.”

The conscious, severed head of Babalon sat there on his desk, predictably unresponsive.

“Oh, and we’ll probably have to crack down a bit on Pluto. I’m a fan of enrolling him in Boot Camp again. What do you think, dear?”

The skull sat there, unable to tell or express to Therion what a piece of shit he was. All she could do was stew in her emotions.

“Oh? No objections?… I’m very glad you agree, dear~” He chuckled, picking her up, tossing her up and down in his hands as he made his way to his trophy room. He could sense her anger. Her hatred. But that only gave him pleasure. “You know, I think I love you a lot more like this.  Shorter than me and so much more agreeable. As a //good// wife should be.” He laughed.

Therion's laughter quickly died when he opened the door to his study.

It was gone.

The locked glass case that once contained Blood Rose was empty.

He made a dash for the house alarm and activated it. The thief was likely long gone from the manor, but the Red Dragon is under orders to report to him immediately whenever the alarm goes off. Whoever stole it would have to deal with the best merc in the business chasing them to the end of the earths.

He ran over to Pluto’s room, and yanked open the door. “BOY, GET IN H-“ He dropped Babalon on the hard, mahagony wood floor. His eyes widened.

He was gone. His school supplies were dumped on the floor, and his school bag was missing. He ran away. It didn’t take a genius to realize what went down.

Pluto stole Blood Rose.

The Red Dragon ran up to Therion, and stood at attention. //“Sir.”// he addressed.

“Relax, birdbrain. My brat of a son just stole Babalon’s fork.” Therion groaned. “You were outside. Did you see where he went?”

“… Yes, sir.”

“Then, //find him.// Do whatever it takes, just don’t butcher him. He’s still useful to- hey wait... didn’t you say you were injured or some shit earlier?”

The Red Dragon paused. "... No, sir."

Therion squinted his eyes and stepped forward. He was nearly chest to chest with The Red Dragon as he looked up to stare at him.

The Red Dragon's pupils shifted and broke the stare.

"Oh, you little **FUCKER!"**  Therion punched larger demon in the abdomen. The Red Dragon fell to his knees and grimaced as he felt his wound re-open.

Therion sneered "You were always a terrible liar, you know that? Didn't you learn not to hide things from //me?// Absolutely fucking //embarrassing.//"

"I- I'm... sorry."

Therion grabbed the Red Dragon by the neck and squeezed. //"Do you think I WANT your apology? Do you think I'm so beneath you that I would even accept it?!"//

The Red Dragon's hands were by his knees, he knew better than to fight back. He only looked up and shook his head.

"Good." Therion said as he let go. "Of course, that little bleeding heart pussy stopped to heal you, I really tried my best to raise him right but that //whore// had to fill his head with stupid ideas like that. You know what she was like."

"Yes, sir." The Red Dragon slowly stood up slowly, he held the side of his abdomen that continued bleeding. He kept his head low and eyes averted.

Therion smiled. "Good boy. Go and bring him back. I think I'll put out a general bounty on him as well."

The Red Dragon's eyes widened. The mercenaries of the 7th Circle were notoriously brutal. He thought about what they would do to Pluto to capture him. What they might do to him after.

He clenched his fist tight.

"... I'll find him first, sir. They won't get him before me."

"I don't really give a shit as long as the boy returns to me." Therion scoffed. "Now, please, //fuck off,// you're stinking up the place."

The Red Dragon wanted to tell him that he only stank due to his direct order to never wash the blood off his feathers.

Instead he simply kept quiet and nodded his head.

“Yes sir.” he obeyed, and took off.

Therion was alone, once more. Alone with Babalon’s skull. He picked her up, and shuddered.

Babalon felt joy. She was laughing at him, albeit internally.

“Shut up, //cunt.// You don’t think I’m not gonna kick his ass when I see him again?”

Babalon didn’t stop. If anything, she was downright cackling.

"I said //SHUT THE FUCK UP!"// Therion screamed as blue Cocytean fire erupted from his shoulders and froze his jacket solid. "Do you think you're in any position to laugh now, bitch?! I have your skull in my hands and your body being used for lunch meat! Do you honestly think you're still better than //me?!"//

Babalon's laughter roared through Therion's head. Louder than ever before. He didn't need her to speak to know what the answer was.

He squeezed her skull hard enough that his hands trembled. If he could he would crush Babalon's skull like a hammer to a kneecap. Instead all he could do was shut his eyes and clench his jaw tight as her laughter overpowered every single thought he had.

Therion inhaled and opened his eyes. ”… You know, I just realized. He might come back for you... Say, what was that Living World you were messing with? The one you made us invest in for your little secret project?”

She fell emotionally silent.

“How about we take a visit?”

----

The dark cave echoed with the sounds of footsteps and dripping stalactites as the ritual started up. The robed participants marched into the open area, and led the sacrificial lamb into the center. 

“Io Therion, Beast of Violence, and bringer of the antichrist,” the ceremony master began in Latin. “Hear our call, and accept our offering.”

“Hear us. Hear us. Hear us,” his followers chanted, one of them approaching the sheep with an ornate dagger.

“Accept our offering, and protect our souls as we devote them unto your service,” the leader continued as his servant raised the dagger, ready to drop it down upon the lamb. “We dedicate this tribute to you. In your name. Ame-“

He was cut off by the sudden rift opening up, in the middle of the cave, the King of Violence himself stepping out from the opposite side, clutching the skull of a jackal-like being.

“L-Lord Therion! All hail th-“

“Yeah yeah yeah, hail me, whatever.” He waved his free-hand dismissively. “Look, hold onto this for me, will ya?” He said, tossing the skull into the hands of theirs priest, who fumbled the catch in his hands. “I gotta go beat my son's ass, I'll be back in like five minutes or something. See ya.”

And just as soon as he came, he left. The only evidence of his arrival sitting in the human’s hands. There was a long silence; the only sounds that could be heard was the dripping water and the singular ‘baaa’ of the sheep they brought with them.

It was then that one of the mortals would say the only thing that they could think to say in that moment. He doffed his hood, and cleared his throat.

“… What the fuck?”


[[/div]]

[[div class="papernote"]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
=====
> **Filename:** sigil2.png
> **Author:** [[*user Fantem]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:** [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/therion-devours SCP Foundation Wiki]

> **Filename:** Therion_Devours.png
> **Author:** [[*user Fantem]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:** [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/therion-devours SCP Foundation Wiki]

> **Filename:** Coldest_Asshole.jpg
> **Author:** [[*user Opossumistic]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source Link:** [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/therion-devours SCP Foundation Wiki]
=====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]
[[/div]]

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