Unhinged {Roderic}

[River]

The end was in sight.

In just a few more seconds, she would break into the main street. From there, it would be easy to navigate her way to safety. Despite it being late, there was still enough people on the street to add a thin buffer between her and the murderer, and she knew that it wouldn’t take her long to find a place to hide until daylight. Once the sun had risen, she would find her way to the police department and give her statement. The thought of facing a stern and sleep deprived officer caused her stomach to twist, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t allow the man to remain on the streets - God only knew who he would kill next.

None of this is going to matter if you don’t get away.

As her feet splashed through day old puddles that painted the bricks of the buildings in mud, she shook the thought from her mind. She was almost there, and she didn’t hear pursuit behind her - though the knowledge confused her. Why wouldn’t he follow her? She had seen his face - and she had written a rather detailed log of his actions. Even without her notebook, she could repeat everything he had done from the first day he had walked into her bar. It didn’t take long for her question to be answered. Skidding to stop as his shadow loomed at the mouth of the alley, she felt her sneaker lose traction on a thin patch of ice. His warning came at the same time as her leg slid from beneath her, sending her to her ***.

She could feel the cool pavement through her jeans, but it was the sharp pain in her palm that had her attention. When she lifted her hand, the moonlight shined on the broken piece of glass that had embedded itself in her skin. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she tore her gaze from the wound and back to the man, her eyes dry of tears and filled with surprise. How the hell had he gotten there so fast? Her path had been the only way. Unless he was skilled in parkour, there was absolutely no way he could have beaten her. Even then, she would have heard him on the roof of the diner - no, he had to have…

What?

What could he have possibly done? Shaking her head, she pressed her uninjured hand to the ground and began to slide backwards, her feet scrambling to find purchase on the icy ground. Her need for survival outweighed any other thought, and once she found herself able to stand, she struggled to her feet, her fingers gripping the large glass in her palm. Not taking her eyes from him, she took a few steps back as she began to pull it from her skin, her blood warming her hand as it pooled at her feet. “L-Leave. J-J-Just l-leave,” she whispered as she brandished the bloodied amber glass like a weapon.

[Roderic]

Ric watched the woman stumble and fall and waited for her to accept defeat along with the inevitable moaning and complaining about pain. Maybe even crying. Women did that sort of thing. Boy, did they ever. Ric couldn't even remember the last time he cried. Maybe when he snapped the neck of the neighbor's dog when he was about ten or so. The dog had it coming to him, but Ric felt a tinge of remorse after the fact. For weeks, that dog had harassed Ric as he made his way to and from school, barking and snapping at him for no reason other than because it could. That's what he thought at first, but when Ric got older he realized the dog was angry for a good reason. The dog was angry because it was always outside and not being walked or looked after properly. It wasn't the dog's fault. It was the owner's fault. His tinge of remorse would be taken out on the guy who owned the dog when Ric was nineteen or so.

Only, the woman didn't do any of the things. She got right back up and started stuttering. Fear made people act in a lot of different ways; shaking, anger, and stuttering too was now added to that list of things Ric observed about people when they were frightened.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyone and everyone would want to leave." I acknowledge her request, but shake my head after saying that. "Who are you? What are you doing with this? Why are you taking notes of me? Are you tailing me?" I sling a slew of questions in the woman's direction and take a singular step towards her, but make no other moves to advance in her direction. I suspect that might make her run and before we progress any further, I want to know who is behind her spying on me so I can take care of both of them. Can't take care of one and not the other. They'll only send others to me and it'll draw more attention to me.

[River]

Curling her fingers tighter around her makeshift weapon, she narrowed her eyes on the man. He seemed unaffected by her show of bravery, and it brought her up short. What had she really expected? She was nothing compared to him. His muscles bulged beneath his shirt when he moved, and she found herself becoming overwhelmed at the very power he seemed to present. Where he was a mountain, she was a twig, easily crushed with a single twist of his powerful wrist. Come on, River. Think. You have to do something - anything. Shaking her head, she flexed her fingers over her weapon again, the movement causing the glass to dig deeper into her skin.

A quick glance around proved that she was locked in. The only way was up - and in her state of being, she doubted she could manage it. She would have to move closer to him to get to the dumpster, the closed lid providing the only means to make it to the nearest roof. Already, she knew that it was a risk - and probably impossible - plan. Her skills were rusty at best, and she would probably only make it a few feet before he was on her. However, in those few feet, the sound of her feet against the metal should be enough to alert someone to her situation. Could she risk it, though? With a quiet sigh, she bit into her lower lip and tore her gaze from her only escape and focused back on him.

He was so confident, so certain that she wouldn’t prove to be an issue. She could see it in the way he merely stood there, his shoulders relaxed. To anyone walking by, it would look as if he were simply an old friend - and the thought terrified her. He has done this before. The thought slithered into her mind and ignited her fear, and she found her arm beginning to tremble as she forced herself to remain in place. She wanted to run, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs - but she did none of those things. No, instead, she furrowed her brows in confusion as he began to speak. His questions were tossed at her so rapidly that it took her a solid second to sort them out.

Following him?

In truth, that was exactly what she had been doing - but the way he narrowed his eyes, she had a feeling that he thought her act was something far more sinister than it was. Rapidly shaking her head, she held up her hand and clenched it against her chest. If she answered him honestly, would he let her go? She had seen him murder the man - but it seemed as if he wasn’t concerned about that. No, his concern laid in who had sent her. It was a laughable notion, her working with someone - anyone - in a business that would require her to stalk serial killers in the middle of the night. “N-No. Noone se-sent m-me. I-It’s f-f-for a p-p-p-project. F-For c-c-college.” Frustration shined in her eyes as she fought to get the words out, each one more of a struggle than the last. Even in a situation where her life was literally on the line, she couldn’t speak with clarity. Clearing her throat, she tried again, her accent thickening with her distress. “N-n-noone has ev-even s-s-s-seen th-them. W-W-W-We w-w-w-were sup-supposed t-to s-study s-s-someone.” Motioning towards the notebook, she gave a hand signal for him to turn to the back, where the assignment packet was folded neatly into the packt. She only hoped that that would be enough to spare her.

[Roderic]

It's hard for me to decipher if she's telling the truth or if the woman is lying. She's stammering because she's trying to make up some story about some assignment she was doing, or she's still scared. I'm honestly surprised she hasn't pissed herself by now. Just to be sure, I take a deep breath in and confirm that she hasn't done that. She hasn't. It's at this point that I actually take in the smells around us, from me and from her. The rotting stench of garbage from the dumpsters, some light scent of sweet smelling beer, the smell of dog, which comes from me and that damn mutt Skylar and I have that likes to sleep on anything and everything and then there was her smell.

I recognize one of the scents from when I was a boy. It was my mom's favorite-but it makes me want to puke. Still does. It's not because it stinks, it's because it's all our house ever smelled like. Vanilla. The other is a little more muskier, and unfamiliar, but I've smelled it before. Earthy and spicy. I don't care, but it just familiarizes me with the woman. In case she does a runner, which wouldn't get her very far. She would have to run through me and that's probably not going to happen.

I open the notebook, and raise it so that I can look at it and her at the same time. I'm not going to let her pull anything over me. I grab the assignment ledger out of the back pocket and see that she's telling me the truth. Or it's some elaborate lie, but why? Chances are, no one would have noticed her taking notes on them, so there's no need to falsify any documents to cover up something very few, if any one would notice.

The last page has something scribbled on it. I squint to look at it and there's a little note that says, 'Bury the Hatchet.' The guy that was married to my mom before he banged my half-brother's mom said that a lot. Not like that, but close enough. He was always on about us burying the hatchet when I was older. What does that mean? Does she know him? Impossible. But what made the woman write that? Was it about me? Everything else in this notebook seemed to be about me.

I close the book and arch my neck left, and then right and shrug my shoulders. "Here." I offer her the notebook, extending it in her direction. It appears to be that I'm giving her the notebook and maybe even letting the woman walk away. As if I'm satisfied with her answers. I am, but I won't be letting her go anywhere. She knows too much. True, she doesn't know my name, so I'm not worried about her telling anything to the police to incriminate me. I actually find her skills of observation to be impressive. There's a lot she's written about me that's right on the nose. A quality that's rare. A quality that should be preserved.

[River]

He’s not going to let you live.

Tightening her hold on her makeshift weapon, she watched as his gaze dropped lazily to the notebook. It was something that she had treasured no more than an hour ago, and now she couldn’t stand the sight of it. The urge to rip it from his grasp and set it on fire coursed through her, and yet, she remained completely still. She was a rabbit, and he was the wolf, waiting to pounce at the first sign of defeat. Keep yourself together, she urged silently as her mismatched gaze followed every movement he made. There wasn’t a twitch of his finger that she didn’t notice, and she was more than certain it was the same for him. She felt as if she were close to her breaking point as he idly began to flip through the pages until he reached the back. “S-S-See?”

Her voice was stronger than she had intended, and she winced inwardly at the bravado that was finally showing through. It had to be the fear and adrenaline that was coursing through her veins like gasoline, because the courageous act wasn’t her. Even when she had been some resemblance of normal, she had never been brave. She faltered at the first sign of confrontation, and she refused to stand up for herself. I’ve never been faced with death, thought, she reminded herself as her gaze dropped to his hands, and she bit into her lower lip. The flesh was abused and bruised, and the taste of her blood lit her senses. The thought of walking closer to him was terrifying, and yet, she knew that he wouldn’t let her do anything else. Clutching her weapon, she breathed in the night air and held it in her lungs, doing her best to ignore the stench that came with it as she took a step forward.

Warily, she reached out a hand and pressed her trembling fingers to the top of the page, her eyes dropping automatically from his to focus on the ground. She studied the color of the cement beneath his shoes, the way the snow melted and began to slowly trickle beneath a thin layer of ice to disappear into the sewage system below. It was rather beautiful, in a morbid way, the thought of that being the last thing she saw. She wasn’t stupid. Even as she felt the cool of the paper beneath her touch, she knew that she wasn’t getting out of this alive. There was nowhere for her to run, and something told her that there wasn’t a single place that she could hide that he wouldn’t find her. She had sealed her fate the moment she had laid her eyes on him.

[Roderic]

I don't really care about her notebook anymore. I've already decided her fate, so I'm no longer interested in what her assignment was, or is. Still, I understand her reasoning for it. It was a last attempt, a last grovel at hope. Hope that I would spare her life. I've seen and heard it time and time again but I'm never dissuaded from my decisions.

I look at her weapon and can't help but grin. Fighter until the end, this one is. Well, I'm going to have to significantly stack the deck against this one-which is kind of unfortunate, but since he blood has no appeal to me, this one, like the last isn't going to be easy. But all I need is one good clear cut against a major artery and the work will do itself for me. It's just getting that cut which is going to be the problem, as she's got more fight in her than most do by this time around.

I make grab for the notebook again, but miss it intentionally. Instead, my hand hits hers and I don't think twice about using a mystic power I learned almost a year ago now. My fingers are dangerous to anyone that encounters them and a single touch will spread like fire on a victim's body part and leave a burn like nothing they've ever encountered before. And while she's distracted with that, I grab a small blade from behind my back and make a singular cut towards the sky at her neck area. Only she moves as my blade soars up into the night sky and I instead connect with her cheek, superficially.

Damn this girl.
Her fight to live, and her will is impressive.
I can't wait to bring her to our side.

Roderic Another PC Difficult Physically demanding River Cut her neck right open Failed

[River]

I’m not getting out of this alive.

The thought kept repeating through her mind as she watched the man. It was in his smile - in the very way he stood - he cared nothing about her notebook. It was nothing more than a passing thought to him now, and the way his eyes roamed over her trembling form, she had an idea what was important to him. He’s going to kill me. Swallowing the fear down, she gripped her weapon tighter, uncaring that the glass bit into her skin. It wasn’t in her to fight for her life - hell, it wasn’t in her to fight for anything - but she had only faced death once before. This situation, however was nothing like the first. She wasn’t drowning, and her father was no-where in sight. No, she was alone in this.

Isn’t that what you always wanted to be?

Running her tongue over the inside of her lip, she kept her eyes on his as he moved for her, and she realized far too late his intention. By the time she saw his fingers brush across the notebook to curl around her wrist, there was nowhere to run. The pain radiated up her arm, the fire seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Her teeth clenched as she seized up, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. It was like she was being tased and tossed into an inferno all at once - there was no escape. As the pain caused her muscles to give out, she felt her knees hit the ground, just as the glint of metal flashed in her peripheral. No! Fighting past the agony, she twisted at the last second, the bite to her cheek far less painful than what could have happened.

Something inside of her snapped, then, and she felt an unfamiliar sensation fill her chest. With a guttural sound, she tossed her leg out at the same moment her make-shift weapon sliced across his jeans. The attack had worked so much better in her head, but once put into motion, she barely did a single ounce of damage. In fact, she seemed to not have swayed him at all as she twisted from his grasp. Her hands slipped in a dirt covered mess, making it difficult for her to find enough traction to get away from him. No, she knew in that instant, she had taken far too much time - whatever was going to happen, was going to happen. Accept your fate, Danika. Life will be so much better without you.

“N-No.” The word, though stuttered, was strong, and as she found herself on her *** in front of him, her head tilted back and her frightened eyes filled with resolve, she knew that she wasn’t ready to die. There was too much beauty in the world - she wasn’t going to let this man, this obsession take it from her.

Like you have a choice. Say goodbye, Danika.

[Roderic]

I jump back as the woman initiates her own counter attack and hear the tearing of my jeans as the weapon cuts into it. I don't look down at my jeans. I don't care about them. I have at least half a dozen more of this very color in a drawer at home and it's very typical, found in any store sort of jeans. Levi's, I think they were called. So, even if someone finds a shred of jeans somewhere in this place-good luck pin pointing it to someone specific. Especially when that someone specific doesn't bleed.

Then, the woman does that begging thing. Only, it's not so much begging as it is a statement. She doesn't want to die. I get it, but we all have to meet our demise at some point or another. "I'm not going to kill you." Well, I am, but she's not going to stay head. "No. I am going to kill you, but it won't last long." I inform the woman as the shadows coil and twist around the two of us, slowly blanketing us that much more than they had before.

"I think you could be useful." I nod two times, because nodding once might have been not seen by her. I had nodded quickly. "Only thing is-you seem gunhoe to live. What's there to live for? That place you work at back there?" I point to the building we had both just come from. "Some class you take that got you in this predicament?" I have a fleeting thought that entered my mind as I said that. Her professor should die. Whoever he, or she was. Who makes people 'stalk' people for a class? In this city, that would get you killed.

The shadows are cascading over the two of us and I raise my arm up, the one with the knife and go for a fatal blow to the woman. Why won't she just die? Or at least start bleeding out from some place good? "Just...give up. This will go better for the both of us."

I drop the blade then and again, luck is on this woman's side. I'm having an off night, or this blade is crap. I know it's not, my wife made it, but maybe it's just not the right fit for me. Too small. Not sharp enough. I don't know but I rarely miss a target twice. This is getting ridiculous. The knife misses her and connects to the cement besides her leg, scratching the surface of the ground with a high pitched wail. "****." I growl before teleporting the knife from out of my sight. It should land up in the cemetery in the QZ.

Roderic Another PC Moderate Physically demanding River Fatally stabbed Failed

[River]

What is there to live for?

His words stunned her, and she felt her resolve begin to waver. What did she have to live for? A cheating fiancé? A degrading job with an abysmal paycheck? A family that she deserted? An apartment that threatened to crumble at her feet with each step she took? The list continued to expand, until the very will to survive was all but washed away. She was suddenly feeling weightless, worthless, useless - and it was exactly what he wanted. Shaking her head, she lifted her gaze from his dirty boots to stare at him, her mismatched gaze flickering back to life as she clutched her makeshift weapon tighter. There is always something to live for, she wanted to say, the words burning on her tongue - but they wouldn’t emerge. She knew if they did, it’d only be in a laughable stutter. Instead, she settled for shaking her head as she felt her blood trickle from the shallow cuts in her palm.

It was only when she had pulled herself out of the despair he had inserted into her mind, that the rest of his words began to take hold. Useful? How would she ever be useful? She was a nobody, and she knew it. They both knew it. She was a lingering shadow, a silent body that easily blended into the background. No one looked twice at her, no one cared about her. She was nothing more than a ghost. Running her tongue along her lower lip, she narrowed her eyes on him once again and took a step back. The second her foot touched the slick pavement behind her, he had lunged, the glint of his blade shining in the moonlight. It was the only warning she had, and with a quick movement, she brought her hand up in an attempt to defend herself - only to hear the cry of the blade as it struck the concrete. A laugh bubbled up inside of her, then, a sound of pure hysteria.

How can I be afraid of someone who cannot hit?

The thought slithered into her mind like a dark shadow and wrapped itself around her, offering her a moment of comfort - of confidence. In the back of her mind, locked tightly in a cage, a small voice piped up, warning her that it was that confidence that would end her. Brushing her fingers through her dark hair, she took a moment to collect her thoughts, though she knew that each second was a waste. What in the hell was she going to do? There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The time for waiting was over - she needed to make a move. She needed to do something! Snapping her teeth together, she suddenly let the adrenaline take her over, felt the power flood through her veins as she lunged. Lifting her hand, she brought her weapon down in an arc - though she missed her mark by a mile.

Stumbling a step, she frowned when the edge only managed to catch on his shirt, another tear forming in his clothing. Fear flooded her once again, quickly replacing the adrenaline that she had so hungrily grasped onto. As she stood against him, her fingers clutched into his shirt and her bottle dangling precariously from her fingers, she knew she was out of time. There was no way in hell she was going to get out of this, and even if she could force her feet to move, she would only manage to inch away before he attacked again. He had missed her before - but what were the chances that someone so dark, so brutal, would miss her a third time? Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she clung to her last hope of survival. If she could knock him off balance, she’d have a chance to run.

It was a risk, but one she had to chance. She could not die at his hands.

Mustering what strength she had left, she applied it into the force of her push, hoping to apply enough pressure to knock him down. She did manage to move him - but just barely. When he didn’t fall onto his *** in the dirty slush, she realized just how dire her situation had become. Tensing her jaw, she lifted her gaze to his, the resolve still there, though cracks began to form, threatening to shatter every ounce of self-preservation she had left.

Say goodbye, Danika.

River Another PC Moderate Physically demanding Roderic Shove him with enough force to knock him down Failed
River Another PC Very difficult Physically demanding Roderic Cut him Failed
River Another PC Very difficult Physically demanding Roderic Lunge and stab his stomach Failed

[Roderic]

She doesn't say a single thing. The woman only reacts to everything I'm doing-or trying to do. It's comforting; the silence between us when I'm not asking her questions. And refreshing at times too. The women in Hawthorne-they like to gang up on me and Doc every now and again. I think they should all just get together and watch those chick flicks, cry on each others shoulders, drink and eat fattening stuff if they can do that. I think a couple of them can. I'm going to suggest that next time they all try and gang bang Doc and I in the family Crownet.

This chick has some vigor behind her. If she could have managed to connect with me at any point, I'm positive I would have felt it and landed smack dab on my ***. Only, I'm slightly quicker, so she never even manages to get close to me with each attempt to put space between us and injure me. At this rate, it seems that we're at a stand still or something. I think it's called a stalemate. For a human, she's fast and smart. Only, I can't let her walk away. Not with that notebook and even without it, she's seen too much, so I can't just decide screw it and walk away.

At this point, I'm starting to just think...screw it and snap her neck, or something of the same caliber, because she might be worth more trouble than she's worth. But, if we weren't in such an open space, I wouldn't be thinking that. I'd be at it all night long with this one, because eventually, this human is probably going to get tired before either of us can land a hit that will make the other either back off, or charge at the other like a....

And that's when it strikes me. Fast, quick, steady, multiple attacks at once might get me a lucky shot. I'll tired this one out if I need to. I strike out as fast as I can and connect the blade with her right arm, hearing the fabric rip and the pressure of the blade against skin. The velocity's rate changes as it pierces any sort of texture and is dragged against that texture. I've hit enough hunks of meat to know when it's connected with something more solid than some flimsy material from a shirt or coat.

I don't give her much time to react to the wound on her arm before I'm slicing at her again, moving in closer and that's when I've finally done it. Berserk mode appears successful because my knife connects again and this time...jackpot. I smell the blood before I see it, because we're still enveloped in shadows, but I know I've either connected with her chest, face or throat because of the type of swing I've made, which was more to my right side, since her appendages are on opposite sides of how mine rest. I don't move, I just wait to hear the weight of her body connect to the concrete before making my next move.

Roderic Another PC Moderate Physically demanding River Slice her throat Succeeded
Roderic Another PC Moderate Physically demanding River stab her in the arm Succeeded