His steps were only as fast as they needed to be to corral the Reaper, else the giant bovine drenched in fire and flame, stained the deep crimson of blood and anger, did not hasten this most delectable of moments. To watch the fine body of a horned beast not unlike himself be torn into little more than sparkling droplets of saline and whipped into pale froth - there were no other pleasantries in life. Surely of all his victims, Deimos would best understand the surge of triumph, of control, of power in its most absolute forms when he drew the last breath out of something, forced it against its whim, the soul struggling against all odds to survive and he, with a mere glint of his baleful eyes, wrenched it away.

Though where Deimos stole, the bull repackaged, gifted, transformed. The sea was alive with the might of thousands of unicorns ceaselessly running against their fates, pulling the surf back and forth with their turmoil, their grace, their beauty. It was a poetic demise, far more justified than the cruel snares Deimos employed, his garden full of shed coils.

For this reason, the inferno saturated titan could not understand Deimos' refusal to submit.

Hooves tore apart the beach, flinging sand and glass alike as he moved, a perfectly toned beast of war and destruction. Yet, so was his foe, and with little more than a steely resolve the dark lord retaliated. Just as strong, just as precise, just as damning, Deimos' touch wound its way to the bull, clenching onto his heart like the skeleton hands which earned him his infamy.

A bellow tore free from the hefty bosom of the charging cretin, the rage previously thundering free now a strangled, haunting racket of pain. His limbs locked up, his eyes bulged, his breaths drew ragged - the red bull slowed, a comet trapped in its final blaze down towards the ground. Manically he swung his horns at the foul beast that was to be of beauty and instead was of decay. Given his girth and his own nefarious nature, the red bull struggled to resist, fighting, urging, shoving at Deimos in an attempt to continue to drive the unicorn into the depths, even if he no longer remained to watch that dark water stir.

The flame that encased him swayed, a candle flickering in the wind, easily extinguished with blood and stolen breath.