The Abomination roared in displeasure at the Binding that held it. It struggled and shrugged, the pieces of body that remained working against that which contained it. There. THERE. It could feel a breech in the energy that suffused and restrained it. Another scream of sorts from the Head, and the body lurched. Yet, like many things, this was too late.
In spending all of its attention into freeing itself, it had momentarily forgotten about Agnieszka. Her earlier strikes had been painful, yes, but against the extra-planar nature of the Beast itself, there was nothing to worry about. Just as the scratchings and bites of the wolf were something to be ignored when there was something like Aleksei present. But here, as the body starts to lurch into position, there is a blade descending to pierce and disembowel. To rend and tear. The Abomination screeches. Loud enough to crack glass and make dust shake from the nearby stone walls. And with a tear it shuffles backwards on broken limbs. Azure corporescant spills from the wound left from the blow, bleeding the mystical life-blood of the Beast and Head.
A blood-stained stream of spittle is ejected from the creature, as ghostly flames of phosphorescent amber billow from the various holes within the animated body. Energy pulsates from the creature as it raises up on shattered appendages, bone-claws driving flaming ocher-tinted holes into the broken stonework beneath it. Another hiss, and the maw that existed on the Jons' head spoke.
"You cannot stop the Eight. Their coming was foretold Aeons ago." Violet energy pulses now, the various colours of its discharge coalescing and burbling. Almost like a stream of tinted energy that circles the group. There is corruption there. Hatred. Lust. Fear. Damnation. "Even if you destroy this frame... You cannot stop the Eight!" The hues flicker again. From the brilliant blue, to the almost neon yellow. Flames of ethereal purple tinted with orange-hot heat. There, it melted all into a sallow jade as the Abomination started to melt into itself, the flesh and remaining blood of the Constable turning into liquid and pooling underneath it. The Head, what was left of it, cackled silently as it died. Even if it was cut off from the Eternity of Chaos, it still managed to let loose a little madness here.
And for the Head. That was all that mattered.
