The Blood-Dimmed Tide 

Rising to his knees, slick with blood and sweat, he pulled Kougaiji from the pit, the prince’s torn hands clasped stickily in his. His heart was a dull roar in his ears, a thudding bass beat that made it difficult to focus on anything but the primal voice welling up within him, an irritating buzz that steadily grew stronger as he tried, futilely, to quash it.

 What- 

Distantly he could hear the prince calling his name. He would have answered with a sharp retort, but there was an itch, spreading from the back of his neck in a violent tingle that pricked his shoulders and coursed down his arms. It was mildly discomforting, but-

 Fuck. 

His skin felt like it was burning, things wriggling beneath it, spiralling and undulating outwards, across his chest, down his legs, up his neck and over his face, like ink spreading in a pool of water. He could feel his teeth elongating in his mouth, biting into his lips and drawing blood in a metallic rush. 

His last thought, before he threw himself over the side of the castle in a haze of red, was

I cannot believe how fucking ironic this situation is.