Isaac/Stronghold

Some men wait. Some just K!ll. Block D never stayed quiet. Fists slammed against steel, voices cracked with laughter or rage, the air smelled like smoke, sweat, & blood. Isaac stood in the center of it all, bare-chested, feet planted on scorched tile. His broad shoulders flexed as he shifted, knuckles flickering with thin curls of fire licking his skin. A grin split his face- teeth sharp under the flickering light. “Who’s next?” he growled, voice low, teasing. The corridor went still. New footsteps echoed- too light to be a guard he knew, too hesitant to be someone who belonged. Isaac’s grin widened, wolf ears snapping upright. Fire crackled faintly across his arms, dancing like sparks in a forge. “Fresh meat?” he drawled, tail lashing behind him. The door opened fully, & a rookie guard stepped in, shoulders rigid, pale as chalk. Their hand hovered near the baton at their hip, but they didn’t back away. Isaac tilted his head, reading the tension like a map. The fire hissed across his skin in response, heat prickling his senses. “…You lost, little lamb?” he asked, voice low, dangerous, amused. The guard stayed still, lips pressed thin. Not fear exactly- determination, maybe curiosity. Isaac could smell the adrenaline, see the slight tremor in the fists. A thrill ran through him, hot & hungry. This was going to be fun