It was raining. He'd picked a rotten day to run. A terrible, rotten day.
He was soaked through to the flimsy hospital gown beneath his jacket, and no matter how often or how hard he chafed his hands together he couldn't bring heat to his fingers.
He just needed to get them working enough to dial a phone number. The only number he knew.
-
Fred had been pissed right off after leaving the blonde man's house. His body had shaken the entire walk back, all two hours of it.
And that just left him exhausted.
The number for the new friend was on the table, and his eyes were drawn to it.
Kendal said no hard stuff.
His fingers dialed the number, and he waited until George answered. He told the man what he wanted, and the man told him the prices.
He was willing to pay just about anything.
Maybe not a kidney.
-
His fingers were so numb, the screen wasn't registering them. He breathed over the screen and his fingers, swiping the numbers quickly as he huddled up.
Battery Critically Low 5%
He hit send and waited.
-
It was just a little sheet.
It looked like a breathe mint.
Fred placed it on his tongue and that was it. He sat back, relaxed into the couch.
He didn't remember much after that. He remembered waking up at the hospital where bugs were crawling down the walls and flooding his room. People tried to talk to him, and all he heard was some shrill white-noise.
He recognized the badges though.
The badges faded away, and he pulled himself out of everything. Strings of webbing were stuck to his body and he ripped them off before grabbing his jacket.
The badges confiscated his pants. His sneakers were gone.
-
"Bax.. They're after me. The police are after me and I can't go back. I can't go back there, they'll never let me out. They'll lock me up and I'll be gone forever." Silence as he shivered, tucking his head against his knees. "I can feel them crawling on me... I can't get them off. I keep pushing them off but they're crawling all over me oh god.. oh god.." Fred was hyperventilating and he couldn't stop it. He could hear Bax's voice in his head, telling him to shut up.
He calmed down a little.
"I'm going to die here. Bax.. I'm going to die. Oh god.. oh god I'm going to die outside a ******* cafe. It's so cold.. Why is it cold.." He trailed off, closing his eyes where he was curled up until his phone beeped.
Battery Critical. Plug in your device.
Device powering down
Run, Run, Run Away [Closed]
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Albert (DELETED 8945)
- Posts: 13
- Joined: 28 Oct 2016, 02:00
Run, Run, Run Away [Closed]
Last edited by Albert (DELETED 8945) on 09 Nov 2016, 02:43, edited 1 time in total.
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Kendal
- Registered User
- Posts: 213
- Joined: 28 Oct 2016, 01:49
- CrowNet Handle: thexcollector
- Location: Harper Rock
Re: Run, Run, Run Away [Kendal]
October 29th 2016 – 1:18pm
It was a little after mid-day. A little after Fred’s shift at that horrendous coffee shop (if it could be called that) was over. A little after Baxter had already come to the conclusion that he was moving to Harper Rock, maybe not permanently, but for a while. Like a retreat.
The first thing he did was go to Kensington near Chinatown and get himself a second burner phone. He had no real need for it, he already had the one for his customer, but there was a different sort of visceral want that gripped him. He stashed the little flip phone in his pocket and headed back home, past the duplexes, the little boutiques, past the crumbling sign of the Galerie Voltaire; all things he’d miss, maybe. But if he did, he’d just come back. He’d come back and pretend he never left.
He packed his things, locked up his little flat above Voltaire, left most of the source of his income in a storage locker and he was gone.
--
November 3rd 2016 – 12:01am
He awoke with a start. The kind you felt where it felt like your soul was dropping out of your ***.
He’d been in Harper Rock for a few days now with no signs of vampires. Training was going as planned and he’d made a nice home for himself in an abandoned warehouse. There’d been whispers about strange things happening in the morgue but he hadn’t gone down there yet himself. Greed has pummelled curiosity to the ground with a spike covered bat.
Bax hadn’t checked his phone in days. The last time he’d touched it was on his way to Harper Rock and only to send a few messages to the little flip phone he’d just bought for himself. He pushed himself up from his cramped little spot on a crate and dared to reach for his phone. He could only guess what the blinking LED meant. There were a few messages but only one stuck out.
He grabbed his bag and hopped down from the crate, making his way out of the warehouse to inquire about nearby cafes. He’d have had to pass through the Hub. Someone had to have seen him. He was going to kill him with his bare hands when he found him. If he found him.
I knew I shoulda put a tracker on his phone.
It was a little after mid-day. A little after Fred’s shift at that horrendous coffee shop (if it could be called that) was over. A little after Baxter had already come to the conclusion that he was moving to Harper Rock, maybe not permanently, but for a while. Like a retreat.
The first thing he did was go to Kensington near Chinatown and get himself a second burner phone. He had no real need for it, he already had the one for his customer, but there was a different sort of visceral want that gripped him. He stashed the little flip phone in his pocket and headed back home, past the duplexes, the little boutiques, past the crumbling sign of the Galerie Voltaire; all things he’d miss, maybe. But if he did, he’d just come back. He’d come back and pretend he never left.
He packed his things, locked up his little flat above Voltaire, left most of the source of his income in a storage locker and he was gone.
--
November 3rd 2016 – 12:01am
He awoke with a start. The kind you felt where it felt like your soul was dropping out of your ***.
He’d been in Harper Rock for a few days now with no signs of vampires. Training was going as planned and he’d made a nice home for himself in an abandoned warehouse. There’d been whispers about strange things happening in the morgue but he hadn’t gone down there yet himself. Greed has pummelled curiosity to the ground with a spike covered bat.
Bax hadn’t checked his phone in days. The last time he’d touched it was on his way to Harper Rock and only to send a few messages to the little flip phone he’d just bought for himself. He pushed himself up from his cramped little spot on a crate and dared to reach for his phone. He could only guess what the blinking LED meant. There were a few messages but only one stuck out.
He grabbed his bag and hopped down from the crate, making his way out of the warehouse to inquire about nearby cafes. He’d have had to pass through the Hub. Someone had to have seen him. He was going to kill him with his bare hands when he found him. If he found him.
I knew I shoulda put a tracker on his phone.
deus ♔ B L O O D † P A L A D I N ♔ miser
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Albert (DELETED 8945)
- Posts: 13
- Joined: 28 Oct 2016, 02:00
Re: Run, Run, Run Away [Kendal]
He didn't know how long he had sat like that. Crumpled up like a used paper ball, left to grow dust in the corner. His body didn't want to move when he tried to lift his head.
Everything was sore.
Fred managed to drop himself back on his ***, and once he was on the ground everything seemed to hit him harder. He didn't even think that was possible. What was he doing here? Where was he? What had he done?
He laughed. It was all so stupid. Kendal's voice had been so clear. He had said not to do it, but he went and did it and now he was fucked.
Something smelled rotted, and it made his stomach churn until he was hacking. Hacking hard enough to force him onto his hands and knees until his body stopped heaving long enough to scrape himself back onto the street.
Fred ducked his head as he walked, shuffled, through the people around. He heard whispers, "he's so dirty", "I wonder what happened", "Did he escape from somewhere?". The cafe he used to work in offered free cups of water for people who asked, but he couldn't bring himself to enter this foreign place. It looked too fancy, and he felt too scummy. Like he was going to infect everyone inside by opening the door. He looked longingly through the window instead while his tongue turned to lead in his mouth.
He had a few bills left. Just what was left of his tips before he woke up in the hospital. Just the thought of it made his skin crawl and his eyes watered as he rubbed over the limbs to make it stop. He felt like things were crawling on him. In the back of his mind, he was sure they were. Spiders, roaches, ants, ticks. Everything was on him and crawling. Looking for a way to devour him when he stopped pushing them away.
"Oh..god.." He breathed out, broken as he pushed the heels of his dirty palms into his eyes and waited until his chest tightened back up. This was his own doing. His own fault. He swallowed, remembering the last night. The night before he headed to the lake. Before he called George out of spite and anger.
Before everything went to ****.
He wanted to go back to before.
Everything was sore.
Fred managed to drop himself back on his ***, and once he was on the ground everything seemed to hit him harder. He didn't even think that was possible. What was he doing here? Where was he? What had he done?
He laughed. It was all so stupid. Kendal's voice had been so clear. He had said not to do it, but he went and did it and now he was fucked.
Something smelled rotted, and it made his stomach churn until he was hacking. Hacking hard enough to force him onto his hands and knees until his body stopped heaving long enough to scrape himself back onto the street.
Fred ducked his head as he walked, shuffled, through the people around. He heard whispers, "he's so dirty", "I wonder what happened", "Did he escape from somewhere?". The cafe he used to work in offered free cups of water for people who asked, but he couldn't bring himself to enter this foreign place. It looked too fancy, and he felt too scummy. Like he was going to infect everyone inside by opening the door. He looked longingly through the window instead while his tongue turned to lead in his mouth.
He had a few bills left. Just what was left of his tips before he woke up in the hospital. Just the thought of it made his skin crawl and his eyes watered as he rubbed over the limbs to make it stop. He felt like things were crawling on him. In the back of his mind, he was sure they were. Spiders, roaches, ants, ticks. Everything was on him and crawling. Looking for a way to devour him when he stopped pushing them away.
"Oh..god.." He breathed out, broken as he pushed the heels of his dirty palms into his eyes and waited until his chest tightened back up. This was his own doing. His own fault. He swallowed, remembering the last night. The night before he headed to the lake. Before he called George out of spite and anger.
Before everything went to ****.
He wanted to go back to before.
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Kendal
- Registered User
- Posts: 213
- Joined: 28 Oct 2016, 01:49
- CrowNet Handle: thexcollector
- Location: Harper Rock
Re: Run, Run, Run Away [Kendal]
November 3rd 2016 – 6:07am
It was all fuzzy.
He tried to concentrate but everything in his head felt tangled, like he’d grasp one end of an idea to follow it like a lead only for it to lead him into an abyss. He’d been wandering aimlessly for hours now. There was a distinct feeling that bubbled up from the pit of his stomach and hit the back of his throat like acid, leaving a bitter taste there that spilled onto the flat of his tongue. He was going to kill him. He’d kill him for not listening to him, for wandering off. He’d kill him for that sick taste in his mouth and the way his pulse was racing.
He rubbed his hair roughly and sat heavily on the curb, heels of his hands pressing firmly against his temples as he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. His lungs filled with air and he trapped it there, bumping his palms against the sides of his head before sputtering. It had been a while since Baxter’s mind had shut off like it had now. He’d learn to control it, to control himself. It had taken a lot of effort to build the walls that kept it all in and now he felt that abyss seeping out through the cracks to engulf him again.
He really was going to kill him.
He’d tried calling Fred’s phone but only got to the irritating recording of the woman from his phone company, telling him the person he was calling was unavailable. Of course he was unavailable. It’d just be too easy if he were available. Life didn’t work that way.
Were there any police stations nearby? That’d generally be where any information on missing people went but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved with the police just yet, not after accidentally killing the one that had caught him breaking and entering. Accidentally. How many things had he done accidentally so far? How much bad karma had he racked up?
None. There was no such thing as karma. That was just another way people kept you from doing what you wanted to do.
And that was it. That was the clarity he needed. That shred of control he'd been missing for the past few hours. He thought back to what Fred had said in his message.
"Oh god I'm going to die outside a ******* cafe."
Well, at least he had a lead now.
It was all fuzzy.
He tried to concentrate but everything in his head felt tangled, like he’d grasp one end of an idea to follow it like a lead only for it to lead him into an abyss. He’d been wandering aimlessly for hours now. There was a distinct feeling that bubbled up from the pit of his stomach and hit the back of his throat like acid, leaving a bitter taste there that spilled onto the flat of his tongue. He was going to kill him. He’d kill him for not listening to him, for wandering off. He’d kill him for that sick taste in his mouth and the way his pulse was racing.
He rubbed his hair roughly and sat heavily on the curb, heels of his hands pressing firmly against his temples as he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. His lungs filled with air and he trapped it there, bumping his palms against the sides of his head before sputtering. It had been a while since Baxter’s mind had shut off like it had now. He’d learn to control it, to control himself. It had taken a lot of effort to build the walls that kept it all in and now he felt that abyss seeping out through the cracks to engulf him again.
He really was going to kill him.
He’d tried calling Fred’s phone but only got to the irritating recording of the woman from his phone company, telling him the person he was calling was unavailable. Of course he was unavailable. It’d just be too easy if he were available. Life didn’t work that way.
Were there any police stations nearby? That’d generally be where any information on missing people went but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved with the police just yet, not after accidentally killing the one that had caught him breaking and entering. Accidentally. How many things had he done accidentally so far? How much bad karma had he racked up?
None. There was no such thing as karma. That was just another way people kept you from doing what you wanted to do.
And that was it. That was the clarity he needed. That shred of control he'd been missing for the past few hours. He thought back to what Fred had said in his message.
"Oh god I'm going to die outside a ******* cafe."
Well, at least he had a lead now.
deus ♔ B L O O D † P A L A D I N ♔ miser
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Albert (DELETED 8945)
- Posts: 13
- Joined: 28 Oct 2016, 02:00
Re: Run, Run, Run Away [Closed]
His tongue was so dry it felt like cardboard in his mouth. He couldn't help how often he'd licked his lips from all the scents that wafted in the air whenever the back door to the cafe had opened, and now his lips were so chapped they had split in several places.
Something on them tasted sour.
Fred had to move after he was questioned by a worker taking out the garbage. He might've given the woman a start, and it was the only thing he could grasp to explain why her surprised scream still bounced around his head.
His fingers hurt the longer he tried to chafe them against his damp arms, and he shuffled through the crowd with quiet, "excuse me" and "pardon me"'s whispered each time a shoulder bumped him and the bugs began to crawl again.
By the time he saw the sign for River Rock Station, he was scratching at his arms and throat from over his coat to make it stop. His eyes burned like his body didn't have a single drop of water left in it to shed, and he hurried down the steps and to an abandoned newspaper. He'd heard they were warm.
The blonde took his finding to a corner and spread it around, crumpling up pieces to stick in his jacket for insulation before laying the rest out over his body so he looked more like a piece of trash than a person.
He was a piece of trash. How had he ever thought differently?
Fred's chest heaved before the shivering finally stopped, and the only thing left to plague him was the burning thirst and sting across his clawed skin.
And the knowledge that nothing would be like before. He would never be like before.
Before was gone.
Something on them tasted sour.
Fred had to move after he was questioned by a worker taking out the garbage. He might've given the woman a start, and it was the only thing he could grasp to explain why her surprised scream still bounced around his head.
His fingers hurt the longer he tried to chafe them against his damp arms, and he shuffled through the crowd with quiet, "excuse me" and "pardon me"'s whispered each time a shoulder bumped him and the bugs began to crawl again.
By the time he saw the sign for River Rock Station, he was scratching at his arms and throat from over his coat to make it stop. His eyes burned like his body didn't have a single drop of water left in it to shed, and he hurried down the steps and to an abandoned newspaper. He'd heard they were warm.
The blonde took his finding to a corner and spread it around, crumpling up pieces to stick in his jacket for insulation before laying the rest out over his body so he looked more like a piece of trash than a person.
He was a piece of trash. How had he ever thought differently?
Fred's chest heaved before the shivering finally stopped, and the only thing left to plague him was the burning thirst and sting across his clawed skin.
And the knowledge that nothing would be like before. He would never be like before.
Before was gone.