Months.
You are gone for months, without so much as a word to me or to anyone. You never check in. You never call. Not that I really care. I have not really felt the need to care about anything since you had left. I assumed that you would be back when you felt like you needed to come back. What really bothers me, though, what really struck me at first was the way you did it.
If you had problems, you could have just told me.
I might not care about much, but I care about you, idiot.
The muzzle of his rifle flashed, the powder charge erupting and thrusting the bullet down the long barrel, where it expanded through the ported mouth in a cross of flame. A quick flash, a flicker, and the blinding light was gone, leaving the world below in darkness. The blood splashed from the hunter’s head, reaching the enormous height of his seven foot frame to speckle his face with crimson droplets. He grimaced, and lifted a gloved hand, pushing the back of the polished leather across his mouth and smearing the blood across his features. The fight had not been a long one, and in the end, he had begged for his life.
The killer had to break his jaw to silence the simpering pleas. Then, they were just animalistic whines, whimpers of pain and fear. In the end, this man had died a coward, as useless as he felt. His face was an etching of frustration as he knelt beside the body, his hand hovering a scant inch from the corpse as he looked over the man’s person for anything that might come of use to him.
Nothing. ******* useless.
He sighed, and reached over the man to lift the rifle he had thrown down, attempting to surrender. At least that would make the man’s death worth something. As he stripped the rifle, removing the magazine and the round in the chamber, he thought over the same question he had pondered when the man had taken to his knees, throwing the weapon aside to beg for his life.
If I fell on my knees in front of you, and begged for my life instead, would you have let me live? Would you have let me go, or would you have gunned me down as I did you?
He shook his head, and slid the rifle into the loop on his pack. It never hurt to have a spare, and the craftsmanship was near identical to his own weaponry. If he could not find use for it, he could sell it, or save it maybe, for someone in greater need. Charity was not often one of his strong suits, but looking after the young of his kind had seemed to come natural to him.
His methods might not be orthodox, but they were effective, if cruel. He pushed his hand into his pocket, flipping his CAT B15Q cell phone into his palm and tapping at the screen. Deft fingertips clew across the tempered glass with astonishing speed, the text hammered out in the blink of an eye before he jammed the phone back into his pocket.
COMPOSED TEXT
TO: TARISYN
Get your *** to Cherrydale.
Sewer entrance.
The text was short, to the point. His texts usually were. His speech was usually similar, clipped and matter of fact. He did not feel the need for niceties and unnecessary pleasantries. Breath spent on courtesy was lost efficiency. Clearly, there were more important things in this life than playing nice. He had known that before he had ever even come to this country. He had known the truth about life for the better part of a lifetime. Life only favors the survivors. If you are weak, then you are crushed beneath the boots of those that are strong. The machine will grind on, with or without you. If you cannot keep up, then it will be your blood that greases the wheels next.
He slapped another magazine into his rifle, pulling the action slide to load a round into the chamber. Usually, his childe was in the mall, running her businesses from one office or another. Always working. Always bringing in money, making her own way, as best as she knew how. She was another kind of warrior, a different kind of survivor. While he waded through blood and filth, she waded through law and red tape. Where he traded in death, she traded in notes; banks, businesses, consumers, everyone was at her mercy in some way or another. She was fierce in the office, her businesses successful, but artfully under the radar. She could sweep another establishment under the weight of her wallet, and they would never see her coming.
She was crafty. Clever. He liked that in her. He had seen it in her eyes the night he took it upon himself to murder her. It had been, in his mind, the best decision he had made with his newfound life. Elizabeth would like to hear that, he was sure. She loved his little Southern Belle. He did too, to be sure. She was one of the things he cherished most in the living realm. He failed to show it adequately more often than not, but he knew that it was true. That was the most important; that he understood exactly how dangerous she was to him. She was a weapon as powerful as any gun, a knife more painful than any twisted barb. Nothing, nothing he could think of, would be more painful than losing her and knowing she was never going to come back.
Fortunately, he was spared that horror, for the most part. Tarisyn returned his feelings. Or, at least, she had before she had taken her time in the darkness. That place could twist you, turn you into someone else; something else. It was a horrific place to be. Madness could claim the strongest of them in there, could drag them down to an eternity in the dark. That she had been gone so long and had come back… it spoke volumes of her strength, her will. He only admired her more for that power of character.
The rifle cradled in his arm perfectly, the weapon fitting him like a glove. He had carried it since the night Elizabeth had buried him. He never parted with it, as it was a part of himself; an extension of his being. He was as skilled with the weapon as anyone. It was something he took pride in. Quietly, he stalked through the darkness, his thumb pushing the fire select switch to semi-automatic. He wanted to test a theory.
He came upon the corridor that lead to the long stretch to Cherrydale. Quietly, he pressed his back to the cool, wet stones of the wall and lifted the rifle. One dark orb peered into the scope, everything at the end of that long darkness suddenly clear. Three bodies milled about in the damp black of the culvert. The first was tall, a mountain of muscle. His skin was nearly black as the darkness around them, the runes tattooed into his naked flesh darker still. His muscles flexed with every movement, bulging figure rippling beneath the black velvet of his skin. The woman at his side stood even taller than him, almost of a height with Valon. The thought was amusing.
She was an amazon, her towering frame wrapped in a light bronze skin. The tattoos about her body covered her naked flesh in living ink. Both of the paladins sported long, inky black hair straight as straw and with a light sheen to its color. The third man, much shorter than the paladins, was fully decked in gear. His rifle was tucked behind his back, a longsword resting in his grip. The trio appeared to be standing over a pile of ash, some poor young vampire they had jumped in the darkness, most likely. He moved the crosshair of the scope over the large man’s chest, just above his heart. He had no need to hold his breath. His finger began to squeeze the trigger, feeling the pressure plate ready to release the firing mechanism, and he waited.
The three milled about idly, conversing over the ashes of the corpse as they turned from one to the other. The shortest man, standing farthest away, was between the two paladins. That was his next target. The amazon was last. The rifle barked, the report reaching their ears as the first man was already dead, his heart pierced by the monstrous bullet. A huge hole in his chest was all that remained of the beating muscle. The hunter’s blade flicked to the air, on the defensive as he prepared to fight the darkness. Another bark and his head exploded. Blood, bone, and brain splashed across the wall of the far end of the tunnel. The second paladin, and the final member of the band, was charging down the long traverse. Her legs were pumping madly, naked body swaying too and fro as she thought to dodge bullets as she ran. He waited patiently, timing his shot.
A final bark erupted in the cavernous tunnel, the paladin’s head snapping back, stopping her charge dead in her tracks. She crumpled to the floor in a heap, her body rolling wildly through the watery concrete walk. He lifted a booted foot and stomped down on her throat, stopping her rolling with a crunch of her neck beneath the powerful blow. Smirking, he kicked her aside and lifted the rifle’s barrel to his lips, a gentle puff of breath dissipating the smoke rising from its mouth.
“Better than when I was alive. Too bad for you lot.” He spat on the broken corpse, walking half of the distance she had just sprinted at a slow, leisurely pace to find the ladder to the surface. Above his head, that manhole cover opened into the streets of Cherrydale district, right by the transit station. She would be there soon. He would wait for her here, in the darkness, as he prepared for another hunt.
This time, however, she was going to accompany him. There was much for them to talk about, and he knew that, above anything else, killing was something they had always connected over. What better place to hunt than here, the home of their mortal enemies? He sank into the damp darkness, sitting in a dry place behind the ladder to the surface. There, he placed a pistol on the ground at his side, beginning to field strip his rifle in the silence. He would be sure that his weapon was ready for the hunt.
Be prepared.
Be ready.
You cannot fail.
The mantra he had repeated to himself a thousand times rolled through his mind again, his fingers working fast as he pulled the rifle apart, each piece laid out about him in the darkness. He had the entire weapon disassembled in seconds. The barrel was in his hand, a wire brush cleaning the powder residue from the inner surface with a professional touch, each particle of material stripped away to leave behind the barrel as smooth as the day it had been machined. An oil cloth ran through its length, then, and along the other machined parts as he lubed them, cleaning them and then set them back, one by one, reassembling the rifle in pristine condition.
Upon inspection, the gun was likely in better shape than the day it rolled off the factory floor. His firearm was his life. If his weapon failed, he died. It was simple as that, in his mind. The work ahead of them was dangerous. He needed everything in perfect working order. Particularly with her coming. Now it was more than just his own life on the line, laid out before the enemy for the taking. No, now it was the both of them. She had been stolen from him once, and he wasn’t letting that happen again. Not if he still had strength in his body to lift a knife. Even then, likely. He would bite them to death if he could.
His tongue ran along a long, sharp fang as he contemplated.
Yeah.
Yeah, I could bite them to death.
I might just try that instead.
It would be a challenge, at least.
Hunting Party [Tarisyn]
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Valon (DELETED 5253)
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 09 Mar 2014, 22:42
Hunting Party [Tarisyn]
You got the world on its knees, you're taking all that you please
You want more, you want more, but you'll get nothing from me. We're enemies.
You want more, you want more, but you'll get nothing from me. We're enemies.
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Tarisyn (DELETED 5265)
- Posts: 75
- Joined: 12 Mar 2014, 17:02
- Contact:
Re: Hunting Party [Tarisyn]
“I can assure you there is nothing wrong with your order, Miss Blanton,” she spoke as she twisted in her chair to grab the manilla folder with the woman’s name written in block letters on the tab. As the customer continued to berate her on the other end of the line, she flipped the folder open and turned to her order page and quickly scanned to search for the source of her complaint. When she came up blank, she gave a quiet sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s exactly what you asked for. Twelve vanilla scented candles with black iron holders shaped to resemble elephants. I would know, seeing as I crafted the order personally.” No sooner had the words left her lips, than the woman on the other end picked up her tirade, her shrill voice nearly deafening the vampiress as she began to insult everything from her poor managerial skills to her craftsmanship. She could feel the rage boiling beneath the surface, and she quickly snapped her teeth together to stifle the growl that built in her chest. Instead of unleashing the demon that lurked beneath the surface, she forced herself to remain utterly calm as she shut the folder and tossed it back onto her desk.
Tucking the phone between her shoulder and chin, she swiveled in her chair and kicked her feet up onto the smooth surface, uncaring that she was leaving a dirt mark on the records. “Enough. I am not going to sit here and be lectured by you. My work is flawless, and it always has been. I think it is time you seek another company to supply your church,” she snapped, her voice taking on a dangerous tone as she adjusted her position to clutch the phone tight in her hand. The plastic began to crack beneath the strain, and she found herself unable to control the beast that roared inside of her. Before the woman had a chance to stutter out a response, she sat up straight and continued on. “I will not be issuing a refund, and I highly suggest you rethink taking me to court. You will walk away penniless and humiliated. Have a nice day, Miss Blanton.” The second the last word slipped from her lips, she slammed the receiver down on the cradle and buried her face in her hands. The woman had managed to get under her skin in a way she had never thought possible, and she found herself swallowing the anger that burned the back of her throat. The urge to lash out and destroy everything in her path radiated within her, and she slammed her fist into the desk to dull the ache in her chest.
Out of all of her customers, Miss Blanton had proved to be the most vile. Nothing had ever seemed to please her, and as the length of their contract grew, she found new ways to make her life a living hell. She complained about everything from the smell of the shop [none of the scents seemed to please her] - to the decor that lined the walls. From the moment she had stepped foot into Eclipse, she had something to cast judgment on, and had deemed Tarisyn something akin to a devil worshipper. Yet, she hadn’t bothered to take her business elsewhere. In fact, it seemed that she had found enjoyment in one thing only - her misery. If she were to comment that the grass was green, Miss Blanton would have fired back with it being some insane color, such as orange or fuschia. Shaking her head, she forced herself to take a deep breath as she pushed from the desk and pressed the intercom button on the phone, barely taking note of the crack that had threatened to split it in two.
”Hope? Make sure that Maureen knows to not let Miss Blanton in any of our stores. She is no longer a customer.” Without waiting for the affirmative, Tarisyn slammed her chair back into its place and headed for the file cabinet, where she yanked out all of the orders that the disgusting creature had placed. She had hated working for her, and despite the rage coursing through her veins like poison, she found joy in the knowledge that she would no longer have to lower herself to her inane standards. Gathering the files in one hand, she tossed them into the trash before lighting a mash and dropping it in as well. As the blaze began to warm her office, she gave a slow, cruel smile. There is one way to be rid of her for eternity, her inner demon purred, and she closed her eyes as she pictured the woman in front of her, bleeding and broken. She wouldn’t make it a merciful death, no, she would make her scream. Her suffering would be the greatest gift she could give to herself, and as she bathed in her blood, she wou--
No!
Reaching out, she grabbed the edge of her desk and bowed her head, her chest heaving as she forced the images from her mind. She wasn’t a monster - at least, she didn’t want to be. She didn’t want to relish in the thought of another’s death, nor did she want to be the one that sentenced a preacher’s wife to a painful death. Yet, even as she tried to calm the raging beast inside of her, she couldn’t get the image of her face, pallid and lifeless, out of her mind. Groaning quietly to herself, she felt the cedar crack beneath the strain she was applying, pieces of black paint embedding themselves into her palms. The pain seemed to center her, and distantly, she heard her phone chime, the familiar tune seeming to snap her out of the demon’s possessive hold. Instantly, she straightened and tugged the cell from her back pocket, the pad of her thumb typing out her response within seconds.
Even as she hit send, she was already grabbing her jacket, the leather the perfect thickness to protect her from the winter’s cruel temperatures. She knew that the sewers would be face colder, and so she grabbed her gloves and pocketed them before heading out of the office. The second she came into view, her cashier lifted her head and smiled, her eyes bright - and wary - as she scanned her from head to toe. “I’ll go ahead and start closing up. This weather is killer on sales this late at night,” she spoke casually, even as she keyed her password into the computer to open the register. “Thanks. Could you also make a reminder for Maureen to call Scott in the morning? She needs to make sure that he has everything he needs to the event on Saturday.” She didn’t wait for a response as she headed for the exit, the heavy glass door slamming shut behind her before the other could so much as utter a goodbye.
The moment the cold air hit her face, she closed her eyes and forced a breath deep in her lungs. She knew that she didn’t need the oxygen to survive, but the comfort it provided eased the monster inside of her, and she refused to give up that humane part of her. After a few seconds, she released the breath and opened her eyes to scan the empty corridor around her. The other shops had closed long ago, leaving only her and Hope to remain behind - which worked out well for her. Despite her snide reply to her sire, she knew that she was pushing the limits on his restraint with her. Ever since she had returned, their relationship had been worse than strained. In fact, it had been nearly non-existent, except for those rare moments when they were in the presence of family. Then, they put on a show to avoid the questions that they were certain were burning in their minds.
One by one, they fall.
Shaking her head, she grit her teeth as the childlike voice once again slithered into her mind like a snake. With a quiet sigh, she gripped the edge of her head and pulled the image of the sewer entrance into her mind a second before her body became a blur of color. It took a solid second for her boots to hit the metal cover, and as she bent down to grasp it in her hands, she thought of what she was about to come face to face with. He hadn’t requested her presence since she had returned, and she couldn’t think of a reason why he would want to see her now. She had all but condemned their relationship to fail the moment she had run from the protection that he offered. He hadn’t so much as batted a lash when she tried to explain to him what had happened, and instead, had turned his back on her without a word. Now, he was demanding that she meet with him.
It was laughable.
Tracing her tongue over her teeth, she peeled the cover back and shook her head. As much as she wished otherwise, she couldn’t deny his summons. As the darkness opened up beneath her, she braced herself for what she about to face, and leaped inside. Her boots thudded against the damp cement, and the stench instantly overwhelmed her. Covering her nose with one hand, she scanned the shadows before making out his lurking figure leaning against the wall. His muscular frame was hard to miss, and as she made her way towards him, she ran her fingers through her thick golden curls nervously before offering him a joyless smile.
“You needed me for something?”
Tucking the phone between her shoulder and chin, she swiveled in her chair and kicked her feet up onto the smooth surface, uncaring that she was leaving a dirt mark on the records. “Enough. I am not going to sit here and be lectured by you. My work is flawless, and it always has been. I think it is time you seek another company to supply your church,” she snapped, her voice taking on a dangerous tone as she adjusted her position to clutch the phone tight in her hand. The plastic began to crack beneath the strain, and she found herself unable to control the beast that roared inside of her. Before the woman had a chance to stutter out a response, she sat up straight and continued on. “I will not be issuing a refund, and I highly suggest you rethink taking me to court. You will walk away penniless and humiliated. Have a nice day, Miss Blanton.” The second the last word slipped from her lips, she slammed the receiver down on the cradle and buried her face in her hands. The woman had managed to get under her skin in a way she had never thought possible, and she found herself swallowing the anger that burned the back of her throat. The urge to lash out and destroy everything in her path radiated within her, and she slammed her fist into the desk to dull the ache in her chest.
Out of all of her customers, Miss Blanton had proved to be the most vile. Nothing had ever seemed to please her, and as the length of their contract grew, she found new ways to make her life a living hell. She complained about everything from the smell of the shop [none of the scents seemed to please her] - to the decor that lined the walls. From the moment she had stepped foot into Eclipse, she had something to cast judgment on, and had deemed Tarisyn something akin to a devil worshipper. Yet, she hadn’t bothered to take her business elsewhere. In fact, it seemed that she had found enjoyment in one thing only - her misery. If she were to comment that the grass was green, Miss Blanton would have fired back with it being some insane color, such as orange or fuschia. Shaking her head, she forced herself to take a deep breath as she pushed from the desk and pressed the intercom button on the phone, barely taking note of the crack that had threatened to split it in two.
”Hope? Make sure that Maureen knows to not let Miss Blanton in any of our stores. She is no longer a customer.” Without waiting for the affirmative, Tarisyn slammed her chair back into its place and headed for the file cabinet, where she yanked out all of the orders that the disgusting creature had placed. She had hated working for her, and despite the rage coursing through her veins like poison, she found joy in the knowledge that she would no longer have to lower herself to her inane standards. Gathering the files in one hand, she tossed them into the trash before lighting a mash and dropping it in as well. As the blaze began to warm her office, she gave a slow, cruel smile. There is one way to be rid of her for eternity, her inner demon purred, and she closed her eyes as she pictured the woman in front of her, bleeding and broken. She wouldn’t make it a merciful death, no, she would make her scream. Her suffering would be the greatest gift she could give to herself, and as she bathed in her blood, she wou--
No!
Reaching out, she grabbed the edge of her desk and bowed her head, her chest heaving as she forced the images from her mind. She wasn’t a monster - at least, she didn’t want to be. She didn’t want to relish in the thought of another’s death, nor did she want to be the one that sentenced a preacher’s wife to a painful death. Yet, even as she tried to calm the raging beast inside of her, she couldn’t get the image of her face, pallid and lifeless, out of her mind. Groaning quietly to herself, she felt the cedar crack beneath the strain she was applying, pieces of black paint embedding themselves into her palms. The pain seemed to center her, and distantly, she heard her phone chime, the familiar tune seeming to snap her out of the demon’s possessive hold. Instantly, she straightened and tugged the cell from her back pocket, the pad of her thumb typing out her response within seconds.
Text: I’m busy. I’ll get there when I get there.
Even as she hit send, she was already grabbing her jacket, the leather the perfect thickness to protect her from the winter’s cruel temperatures. She knew that the sewers would be face colder, and so she grabbed her gloves and pocketed them before heading out of the office. The second she came into view, her cashier lifted her head and smiled, her eyes bright - and wary - as she scanned her from head to toe. “I’ll go ahead and start closing up. This weather is killer on sales this late at night,” she spoke casually, even as she keyed her password into the computer to open the register. “Thanks. Could you also make a reminder for Maureen to call Scott in the morning? She needs to make sure that he has everything he needs to the event on Saturday.” She didn’t wait for a response as she headed for the exit, the heavy glass door slamming shut behind her before the other could so much as utter a goodbye.
The moment the cold air hit her face, she closed her eyes and forced a breath deep in her lungs. She knew that she didn’t need the oxygen to survive, but the comfort it provided eased the monster inside of her, and she refused to give up that humane part of her. After a few seconds, she released the breath and opened her eyes to scan the empty corridor around her. The other shops had closed long ago, leaving only her and Hope to remain behind - which worked out well for her. Despite her snide reply to her sire, she knew that she was pushing the limits on his restraint with her. Ever since she had returned, their relationship had been worse than strained. In fact, it had been nearly non-existent, except for those rare moments when they were in the presence of family. Then, they put on a show to avoid the questions that they were certain were burning in their minds.
One by one, they fall.
Shaking her head, she grit her teeth as the childlike voice once again slithered into her mind like a snake. With a quiet sigh, she gripped the edge of her head and pulled the image of the sewer entrance into her mind a second before her body became a blur of color. It took a solid second for her boots to hit the metal cover, and as she bent down to grasp it in her hands, she thought of what she was about to come face to face with. He hadn’t requested her presence since she had returned, and she couldn’t think of a reason why he would want to see her now. She had all but condemned their relationship to fail the moment she had run from the protection that he offered. He hadn’t so much as batted a lash when she tried to explain to him what had happened, and instead, had turned his back on her without a word. Now, he was demanding that she meet with him.
It was laughable.
Tracing her tongue over her teeth, she peeled the cover back and shook her head. As much as she wished otherwise, she couldn’t deny his summons. As the darkness opened up beneath her, she braced herself for what she about to face, and leaped inside. Her boots thudded against the damp cement, and the stench instantly overwhelmed her. Covering her nose with one hand, she scanned the shadows before making out his lurking figure leaning against the wall. His muscular frame was hard to miss, and as she made her way towards him, she ran her fingers through her thick golden curls nervously before offering him a joyless smile.
“You needed me for something?”
Killer | Shifter | Allurist
.Deux Corbeaux. Blame it on my own sick pride. Valons Viper.
++ Owner of Eclipse, Blood Moon, Crescent and New Moon. ++
.Deux Corbeaux. Blame it on my own sick pride. Valons Viper.
++ Owner of Eclipse, Blood Moon, Crescent and New Moon. ++
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Valon (DELETED 5253)
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 09 Mar 2014, 22:42
Re: Hunting Party [Tarisyn]
“Yeah.”
His voice was hard and cold, like steel left in the winter sun. His eyes were harsh, violent, the stare of a predator on the brink of losing himself, of going into a wild frenzy. He could easily make out her feminine figure in the darkness, her shadow a shade darker than the night that wrapped itself around her. There was no mistaking her, even in the night. Her frame was sublime, perfectly womanly. She was soft in the right ways, and hard where it counted. The curves of her figure were sleek and sexy, the tone of her muscles taut and cleanly cut. He doubted a master could have carved a better sculpture from pure fantasy.
He smirked at that. Perfect.
She is about as perfect as I am. We are both flawed in a fatal way. There is nothing that can be done about that. The flaw is part of what makes her so beautiful it hurts to look at her.
There isn’t anyone like you in all the world, Tarisyn. That is why you are still the only one. I looked into the rest, and all I could hear in their blood was terror. I heard them scream. When I killed you? When I broke your neck, I heard your blood sing.
It was beautiful.
His eyes slowly lifted to find her cool stare, the humorless smile not reaching the sparkling pools of her gaze as he pushed himself to his feet. Combat boots grinded against the stones of the sewer floor, the mouth of his rifle’s barrel scraping against the stone wall as he shifted from his space in the floor. He worked his jaw lightly, just looking at her a moment longer before he lifted a hand to run the heel of his palm across his brow, chasing a phantom itch.
“We are hunting. I know you came prepared. We have some talking to do. Some killing, too. Clear your schedule for the rest of the night.” He spoke in a rough hush, his voice like gravel as he muttered beneath the rush of the water through the tunnel around them. His words were lost on the tumultuous sound to anyone standing more than a few feet away, the words only for her anyhow. He pushed the palm of his hand against his rifle as his features hardened, the look of determination setting into his stance as he let his hand rest around the pistol grip of the rifle, the weapon’s weight settled neatly against the crook of his thumb, the stock lying easily across his wrist and along the length of his forearm.
“You knew this was coming. I think you have had plenty of time to regroup before I summoned you to answer for yourself. Now, take up your weapon and come on. There has been a disturbing amount of activity down here the past few nights. I don’t like it.” He flicked the safety on his rifle with a quiet click before he turned his powerful stare back to her as his boots began to move across the hard stone earth. “The first question is the most obvious. Why did you do it?”
His voice was hard and cold, like steel left in the winter sun. His eyes were harsh, violent, the stare of a predator on the brink of losing himself, of going into a wild frenzy. He could easily make out her feminine figure in the darkness, her shadow a shade darker than the night that wrapped itself around her. There was no mistaking her, even in the night. Her frame was sublime, perfectly womanly. She was soft in the right ways, and hard where it counted. The curves of her figure were sleek and sexy, the tone of her muscles taut and cleanly cut. He doubted a master could have carved a better sculpture from pure fantasy.
He smirked at that. Perfect.
She is about as perfect as I am. We are both flawed in a fatal way. There is nothing that can be done about that. The flaw is part of what makes her so beautiful it hurts to look at her.
There isn’t anyone like you in all the world, Tarisyn. That is why you are still the only one. I looked into the rest, and all I could hear in their blood was terror. I heard them scream. When I killed you? When I broke your neck, I heard your blood sing.
It was beautiful.
His eyes slowly lifted to find her cool stare, the humorless smile not reaching the sparkling pools of her gaze as he pushed himself to his feet. Combat boots grinded against the stones of the sewer floor, the mouth of his rifle’s barrel scraping against the stone wall as he shifted from his space in the floor. He worked his jaw lightly, just looking at her a moment longer before he lifted a hand to run the heel of his palm across his brow, chasing a phantom itch.
“We are hunting. I know you came prepared. We have some talking to do. Some killing, too. Clear your schedule for the rest of the night.” He spoke in a rough hush, his voice like gravel as he muttered beneath the rush of the water through the tunnel around them. His words were lost on the tumultuous sound to anyone standing more than a few feet away, the words only for her anyhow. He pushed the palm of his hand against his rifle as his features hardened, the look of determination setting into his stance as he let his hand rest around the pistol grip of the rifle, the weapon’s weight settled neatly against the crook of his thumb, the stock lying easily across his wrist and along the length of his forearm.
“You knew this was coming. I think you have had plenty of time to regroup before I summoned you to answer for yourself. Now, take up your weapon and come on. There has been a disturbing amount of activity down here the past few nights. I don’t like it.” He flicked the safety on his rifle with a quiet click before he turned his powerful stare back to her as his boots began to move across the hard stone earth. “The first question is the most obvious. Why did you do it?”
You got the world on its knees, you're taking all that you please
You want more, you want more, but you'll get nothing from me. We're enemies.
You want more, you want more, but you'll get nothing from me. We're enemies.
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Valon (DELETED 5253)
- Posts: 57
- Joined: 09 Mar 2014, 22:42
Re: Hunting Party [Tarisyn]
<Tarisyn> With one miniscule word, the beast of a man in front of her had managed to drop the temperature of the air around them. She could feel the chill creep up the back of her neck, threatening to take hold the longer he leveled his glare on her. It was as if he was trying to assess the answer to his questions before he posed them, as if he could pull the truth from her skin with his eyes alone. The demon that resided in her mind was oddly quiet in his presence, as if she too, felt the strength of his wrath. He was like an animal caged, his body thrumming with the energy he was using to keep himself in check - and she wanted to rattle those bars just to see what he could really do. Stopping just before she stepped into his personal space, she tipped her head back to meet his glacial gaze, her expression borderlining on boredom. “And if I refuse?”
The challenge seemed to intensify the electricity that had gathered between them, the air seeming to crack with it the longer they stood together. It was the one thing she could count on, no matter how far she had fallen - or how hard he pushed her away. It was the only reminder that what they had was real and that, despite it all, it still existed. Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she shook her head as she lazily rested against the damp wall, barely feeling the cool, sticky substance as it seeped through the denim of her jeans. “You can’t just snap your fingers and expect to me to cave to your every whim. It doesn’t work that way.” Her voice was as emotionless as her eyes as she spoke them, uncaring of who lurked in the shadows to hear as she dug herself deeper into grave. It’s rather comfortable here.
She had known the moment she returned that she would have to answer to him, to explain to him why she had done the very thing that his ex had done. She had left him. Yet, when she had tried - when she had swallowed her pride to lay it all on the line at his feet, he had turned from her. He hadn’t said a word as he gathered his coat and walked out the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Those thoughts had manifested until they warped her mind further, their poison burning through another layer of her defense. Now, she couldn’t bring herself to care, the demon inside of her having already begun to settle in. She hated it, hated the power that the monster had over her - the monster he had infested her with. He had created her, he had condemned her - and now he was demanding answers. Shaking her head, she met his eyes again - his cold, hers lifeless - and shrugged a shoulder. “Which ‘it’ are you referring to?”
<Valon> His silence grew palpable, the air around him growing bitter cold. He was stone, his expression frozen, his eyes like ice. Between her words, the water running through the sewer whispered, the slow, easy path of the trenches and canals ushering the dirty substance along at a steady pace. The sound was all that grew between them for several long moments, until it was like a roar in his ears. He let his lips twitch into a frown, and he shook his head, finally moving as he lifted his rifle and rested it easily across his shoulder. He stared at her a moment longer, before he turned away, knowing she would follow. There might have been many things that Tarisyn had been, but stupid was never one of them.
Bold, stubborn, pushy. Even, at times, reckless. Things that made her dangerous. Things that made her exactly what she had become. His only. He lifted a hand, running the pad of his thumb along the sharp edge of his teeth as his eyes moved through the darkness. He decided that, as per usual, her defiance was best met with absolution. His beginning was an ultimatum laid down at her feet. Follow, or be dealt with.
They both knew who would come out on top of that scenario.
His thumb dropped from his teeth to run along the hilt of his knife as he spoke to her over his shoulder, rounding the first corner of the canal. The darkness ahead was empty, but for a few rats that scurried across the stony floor. “I think we both know that there are a lot of things that you have done in the past few months, Tarisyn. There is one in particular, however, that eclipses them all. I am certain that you can figure out the largest item of my concern in your more recent history. Though, if I must specify…”
He wheeled on her then, his hand still on his knife, rifle still rested across his shoulder, neither pointed in her direction as his head tipped to one side, the darkness settling over his expression as he planted his boots into the stone. “Why did you kill yourself? There had to be some damn good reason. What was it?”
His voice was hard as iron, his entire demeanor colder than ice. His frame was rigid, like stone, an immovable guardian of the path ahead. There was nothing behind them, nothing but darkness. Ahead was the goal, the adventure. Ahead was life. Slowly, his arm lowered his weapon, past the point of aiming in her direction, and dropping until the mouth of the barrel pointed to the stone by his foot. “Why did you not bother to tell me what was going on?”
<Tarisyn> Tick tick, the demon ate the clock.
The rush of violence had come on so sudden, she was taken by surprise. Even as the temperature between them continued to drop to artic properties, she could feel nothing but the burning volcano within her, threatening to erupt the longer his wicked gaze remained targeted on her. With a quiet growl, she pushed her hand through her hair and forced herself to focus, her glittering eyes closing for a moment as she took a breath to settle her mind. This wasn’t her. This had never been her. She was a woman with integrity, maturity and strength - but she was also a woman who had succumbed to the darkness that had been forced on her life. She had done the very thing she had promised herself - and him - that she would never do. How could she make up for it? How could she explain that everything she had done was for him?
“I didn’t kill myself, Valon,” she snapped as she glanced towards the entrance in a moment of hesitation. He wouldn’t catch her by the time she climbed out, and she itched to get away from him. She had other things to be dealing with - and standing in the dark, dank sewage system with him hadn’t even remotely topped her list. He wheeled on her so rapidly, however, that she was certain he had ripped her thoughts from her mind. Bracing herself for the cold steel of his gaze, she straightened her spine and narrowed her eyes, thankful for the shadows as the darkness seeped in. “I made a mistake. A fatal mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. I chose the wrong man, and they came for me...”
Her voice trailed off as she felt the demon inside of her, it’s long fingers gripping the metal bars of its cage. As it began to shake and rattle it around, she bowed her head and clenched her teeth, forcing the putrid air into her lungs. “You don’t tolerate mistakes, remember?” Shaking her head, then, she forced her head back up and narrowed her eyes on him. “Do you want to hear how every man with blonde hair reminds me of him? Do you want to know how I lure them into an apartment rented under an alias, just so I can rip them apart? Do you want to understand how it feels when their blood soaks my hands?” Her words were a growl, now, the deep tenor echoing off the walls as she advanced on him. “You look at me like I’m some goddess. You think I’m the perfect soldier, that you can mold me to be just like you, but you can’t. I’m not perfect. I’m flawed in so many ways, and I hate what I’ve become. I’m not this monster, but I can’t stop.”
Suddenly, she reached behind her, slender fingers curling into the handle of a solid black throwing knife. Before he could so much as blink, she slid it from its sheath and tossed it, the sickening sound of metal sinking into flesh filling the air. Without looking from him, she motioned over his shoulder a second before the hunter’s knees sunk to the ground. “You’re welcome,” she said icily as she stepped around him and further into the channel.
<Valon> Arching a brow in icy silence, he watched as she launched into her tirade, berating him with words and letting herself go. His thumb moved in slow, even circles on the grip of his rifle as he watched her, letting her go where she needed to go with this. It was, after all, what he had meant in all of this, to get what she felt about it all, to really try to understand. She all but spat at him, the words hissing from her with a venom he doubted she even realized. His expression remained focused, his eyes watching her with a predator’s intensity as her shouting echoed off the walls of the sewer tunnels.
He heard the hunter’s footsteps, the way the boots moved in the water, the light splash of each footfall hard to miss, even amidst her ranting. He didn’t move when she grabbed the knife, didn’t flinch as she flicked the blade around him, and didn’t look back when he heard the knife hit home with the satisfying thump of impact. He tipped his head as the hunter splashed into the water, and didn’t turn until she moved to step around him. His hands moved like lightning, flashing out to grasp her wrist. “What I want to know, is where your brain was when you were deciding that this escapade of yours was a good idea.” He said sharply, tossing her wrist aside and setting her free. He shook his head and turned with her, then, and moved through the darkness of the channel.
He knew there was more to all of it, possibly more than she realized. It was clear enough that she didn’t realize a lot of things. She hated this thing that she had become, but what she had become was simply what she had already been, set free. She was uncaged, unfettered by human frailty and ridiculous administration. The things she did, were simply things she had already wanted to do, and had lacked the means to do them. She had always been a monster, she simply hadn’t realized her potential. He saw that in her, that first night. The anger, the bitter hatred in her eyes. That was as much a reason as any that he had taken her, that he had chosen her out of the crowd.
A rat scurried beneath their feet, passing over his boot as he stepped, kicking the leg and sending the rodent flopping into the muck. He shook his head as he pulled his rifle to his shoulder. “And the next thing, I suppose. Why didn’t you tell me when you came back? Didn’t you think I’d noticed your absence?” He lifted his rifle into the darkness and fired one round. The echo of the shot filled the labyrinthine tunnels, a short yelp of pain followed by a splash, and then silence. A confirmed hit, likely a kill. He dropped his hand to the bolt, and pulled the action along its slide as he tipped his head into the darkness where the body lay. “You can search that one, if you’d like. I have a good head start.”
<Tarisyn> “Don’t touch me.”
At her words, his fingers sprang apart, though she couldn’t defer if it had anything to do with the venom in her tone or not. As long as he left her alone, she wouldn’t think too much on it. Brushing her fingers through her hair, she tried to soothe the demon inside of her. This wasn’t who she was - this had never been her way. She was raised in sunlight, and now she was living in the shadows. Her soul was tainted and her heart was shrouded in shadows - because of him. Even as the thought entered her mind, she knew that it was unjust - but she couldn’t stop it from festering like the plague. Gritting her teeth, she pushed further ahead of him, ignoring the burn of the bullet as it brushed across her arm, before settling into its target with a thud. “If you find the answer, clue me in, because I haven’t the slightest clue.” The truth was heavy in her words, and she slowly shook her head. She hadn’t an idea where her mind was at - hell, she was beginning to wonder if she had a mind left at all. She hadn’t felt this lost since her husband’s murder - even the aftermath wasn’t as confusing. “Leave the rats be.”
When she heard the rodent splash into the muck, she felt a familiar warmth of concern in her chest, though the cold demonic laugh quickly filtered it out. Pressing onward, she listened to him at her back, his words concerned, but his voice bored. It was if the ice that sparkled in his eyes had taken over his soul, and she was no longer looking at the man that had killed her. Instead, the man at her back was frozen and she hadn’t a clue what had caused it. He had been different since his ex-girlfriend’s death, and it had gradually worsened, but she had never expected this. Releasing a quiet sigh, she refused to admit that it was her fault, but she knew that it was. How else could she explain the lack of warmth she had received when she had returned? Running her tongue over her teeth, she scooped down to free the paladin of his sword, her movements swift as she strapped it to her back. “I knew you would notice. We do live together, after all. I didn’t want to deal with this.” She motioned between them as she answered, her brow raised. She turned, then, and began to walk backwards, her eyes gleaming in the shadows.
“You think you know me, but you don’t. I honestly wonder if you ever have. You killed me because I stumbled across you feeding. You left me to drown. It was terrifying, but for some reason, you thought I would be fine. I welcomed that belief from you far too quickly, because it was nice to be believed it. It was different - but I think I gave you the wrong impression along the way.” Her voice broke then, the first spark of true emotion softening her eyes as she clenched her jaw. “I don’t want to be a monster anymore.” Turning from him, then, she wiped beneath her eyes as she felt the cold settle back in her chest. In the back of her mind, her demons cackled, their joy at her pain evident as she curled her fingers around the black bound grip of her blade. With a sharp whisper, she freed it from its sheath, and swung out. The ebony blade cut through the air - and the hunter’s neck - with ease.
Kicking the head to the side, she turned to face him, body tense and muscles coiled. Her eyes were cold again, the emotion that had briefly sparked in them dissipated. “I can’t stop, though. There’s something in my head, something dark. Something starving. Any one that looks like him, anyone that reminds me of him, I can’t help but kill them. I can’t help but send trophies to their families, I can’t help but to make them hurt. I was raised by God, for crying out loud! How did I turn into this?” With a growl, she swung her blade again, this time cutting through the stomach of a huntress, her blue eyes widening with shock as her gun fell from her fingers.
<Valon> Shaking his head, he gave a light sigh as he ran his thumb along the grip of his rifle, trailing the sights along the darkness ahead as she spoke. He set his jaw, teeth grinding together idly as he listened, moving along behind her, keeping her pace. He watched her move, when he chanced to glance away from the sight of his weapon, watching her turn on her heels and remain stride, each step like the prowl of an elegant predator. The frown on his face was frozen into place, his fingers moving deftly along his weapon to prime it for another round.
When she took the huntress in the stomach, he lifted his weapon and fired a single round into her temple, killing the woman in an instant. The body slumped on the end of Tarisyn’s blade, until she fell into the muck at her feet. He moved his hand, re priming the chamber and sliding the bolt back into place. “You didn’t stumble across a damned thing, Tarisyn, and if all that needed doing was removing a witness, then ask yourself; why didn’t I put a bullet in your eye right there? I could have. Just as easily as taking a breath, I could have. But I didn’t. So you stew on that.” He lifted his rifle and pointed into the darkness.
The shadows moved with a subtlety that, without years of training, without the instinct that was ingrained into his very being, he would never have noticed the minute twitch of the darkness that betrayed the hunter. His rifle fired but once, the sharp report answered with a low grunt and a splash. He moved ahead, then, and stepped over the crumpled corpse in the shallows. A boot went beneath the shoulder and flipped the corpse onto its back. Female. Early thirties. She’d been sitting quietly, likely praying that they would miss her. A rosary was tangled between her fingers, the crucifix dangling from her fingertips and brushing against the murky water that would act as her final resting place. He leaned down and searched her pockets, coming away with a few dollars and a fistful of loose ammo. He sighed, and shook his head.
“Useless cowards.” he muttered beneath his breath. The bullet had punched through her skull, dead set center of her forehead. A single crimson tear wept down her face, a cruel dark line following the curve of her nose and losing itself in her lips. She hadn’t even had time to realize she was dead. He resisted the urge to kick the corpse and stood, sliding the bolt on his rifle again, priming the chamber a third time as he quietly ground his teeth. He turned on the woman at his back, then, and stood in an imposing silence, watching her in the dark as he stood still as stone, an impassable obstacle in the bend of the tunnel. His hard eyes watched her with caution before he sighed.
“I know you don’t.” he said finally, letting the muzzle of his rifle lower to the stone floor of the sewer. He pushed his hand into his tactical vest and pulled out a pinch of dirt from the pill bottle he kept tucked neatly in the pocket sewn into its seam. He let his gun hand from the bandolier around his shoulders, and reached with one hand to grasp her wrist. He twisted gently, turning her palm up and sprinkling the earth into her hand. He worked his fingers until the last grain rested in her grasp. “This is just a small pinch of what reminds me of how I was turned, Tarisyn. I’ve never told you about it. When Miss Elizabeth killed me, she buried what was left of me. It was my first test. To see if I was strong enough to survive. Strong enough to dig my way back to life. And so I did.”
He closed her hand around the small pinch of earth and frowned. “I wanted something similar from you. To know that I hadn’t made a mistake in choosing you. I wanted more than your strength. I wanted your intelligence, your cunning. I wanted to make things difficult for you from the start, to push you by challenging you. You’ve succeeded at every turn, and I suppose that you have certainly earned a rest.” He lashed out with his hand, clutching her shoulder in a vice grip of terrifying strength before he yanked her forward, nearly ripping her from her feet as he swept her into an embrace.
The hug was awkward, the monstrously huge man bent in awkward angles to wrap her up, and he so completely out of practice with the sort of emotional phenomenon, that he was most obviously having a difficulty knowing if he was holding her the right way, with the proper strength or no. Slowly, he released her, and held his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to know that you’ve made me proud. You don’t have to do anything, for my benefit. If you don’t want to be this anymore, then we will do what we can, to make you however you want to be.”
The challenge seemed to intensify the electricity that had gathered between them, the air seeming to crack with it the longer they stood together. It was the one thing she could count on, no matter how far she had fallen - or how hard he pushed her away. It was the only reminder that what they had was real and that, despite it all, it still existed. Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she shook her head as she lazily rested against the damp wall, barely feeling the cool, sticky substance as it seeped through the denim of her jeans. “You can’t just snap your fingers and expect to me to cave to your every whim. It doesn’t work that way.” Her voice was as emotionless as her eyes as she spoke them, uncaring of who lurked in the shadows to hear as she dug herself deeper into grave. It’s rather comfortable here.
She had known the moment she returned that she would have to answer to him, to explain to him why she had done the very thing that his ex had done. She had left him. Yet, when she had tried - when she had swallowed her pride to lay it all on the line at his feet, he had turned from her. He hadn’t said a word as he gathered his coat and walked out the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Those thoughts had manifested until they warped her mind further, their poison burning through another layer of her defense. Now, she couldn’t bring herself to care, the demon inside of her having already begun to settle in. She hated it, hated the power that the monster had over her - the monster he had infested her with. He had created her, he had condemned her - and now he was demanding answers. Shaking her head, she met his eyes again - his cold, hers lifeless - and shrugged a shoulder. “Which ‘it’ are you referring to?”
<Valon> His silence grew palpable, the air around him growing bitter cold. He was stone, his expression frozen, his eyes like ice. Between her words, the water running through the sewer whispered, the slow, easy path of the trenches and canals ushering the dirty substance along at a steady pace. The sound was all that grew between them for several long moments, until it was like a roar in his ears. He let his lips twitch into a frown, and he shook his head, finally moving as he lifted his rifle and rested it easily across his shoulder. He stared at her a moment longer, before he turned away, knowing she would follow. There might have been many things that Tarisyn had been, but stupid was never one of them.
Bold, stubborn, pushy. Even, at times, reckless. Things that made her dangerous. Things that made her exactly what she had become. His only. He lifted a hand, running the pad of his thumb along the sharp edge of his teeth as his eyes moved through the darkness. He decided that, as per usual, her defiance was best met with absolution. His beginning was an ultimatum laid down at her feet. Follow, or be dealt with.
They both knew who would come out on top of that scenario.
His thumb dropped from his teeth to run along the hilt of his knife as he spoke to her over his shoulder, rounding the first corner of the canal. The darkness ahead was empty, but for a few rats that scurried across the stony floor. “I think we both know that there are a lot of things that you have done in the past few months, Tarisyn. There is one in particular, however, that eclipses them all. I am certain that you can figure out the largest item of my concern in your more recent history. Though, if I must specify…”
He wheeled on her then, his hand still on his knife, rifle still rested across his shoulder, neither pointed in her direction as his head tipped to one side, the darkness settling over his expression as he planted his boots into the stone. “Why did you kill yourself? There had to be some damn good reason. What was it?”
His voice was hard as iron, his entire demeanor colder than ice. His frame was rigid, like stone, an immovable guardian of the path ahead. There was nothing behind them, nothing but darkness. Ahead was the goal, the adventure. Ahead was life. Slowly, his arm lowered his weapon, past the point of aiming in her direction, and dropping until the mouth of the barrel pointed to the stone by his foot. “Why did you not bother to tell me what was going on?”
<Tarisyn> Tick tick, the demon ate the clock.
The rush of violence had come on so sudden, she was taken by surprise. Even as the temperature between them continued to drop to artic properties, she could feel nothing but the burning volcano within her, threatening to erupt the longer his wicked gaze remained targeted on her. With a quiet growl, she pushed her hand through her hair and forced herself to focus, her glittering eyes closing for a moment as she took a breath to settle her mind. This wasn’t her. This had never been her. She was a woman with integrity, maturity and strength - but she was also a woman who had succumbed to the darkness that had been forced on her life. She had done the very thing she had promised herself - and him - that she would never do. How could she make up for it? How could she explain that everything she had done was for him?
“I didn’t kill myself, Valon,” she snapped as she glanced towards the entrance in a moment of hesitation. He wouldn’t catch her by the time she climbed out, and she itched to get away from him. She had other things to be dealing with - and standing in the dark, dank sewage system with him hadn’t even remotely topped her list. He wheeled on her so rapidly, however, that she was certain he had ripped her thoughts from her mind. Bracing herself for the cold steel of his gaze, she straightened her spine and narrowed her eyes, thankful for the shadows as the darkness seeped in. “I made a mistake. A fatal mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. I chose the wrong man, and they came for me...”
Her voice trailed off as she felt the demon inside of her, it’s long fingers gripping the metal bars of its cage. As it began to shake and rattle it around, she bowed her head and clenched her teeth, forcing the putrid air into her lungs. “You don’t tolerate mistakes, remember?” Shaking her head, then, she forced her head back up and narrowed her eyes on him. “Do you want to hear how every man with blonde hair reminds me of him? Do you want to know how I lure them into an apartment rented under an alias, just so I can rip them apart? Do you want to understand how it feels when their blood soaks my hands?” Her words were a growl, now, the deep tenor echoing off the walls as she advanced on him. “You look at me like I’m some goddess. You think I’m the perfect soldier, that you can mold me to be just like you, but you can’t. I’m not perfect. I’m flawed in so many ways, and I hate what I’ve become. I’m not this monster, but I can’t stop.”
Suddenly, she reached behind her, slender fingers curling into the handle of a solid black throwing knife. Before he could so much as blink, she slid it from its sheath and tossed it, the sickening sound of metal sinking into flesh filling the air. Without looking from him, she motioned over his shoulder a second before the hunter’s knees sunk to the ground. “You’re welcome,” she said icily as she stepped around him and further into the channel.
<Valon> Arching a brow in icy silence, he watched as she launched into her tirade, berating him with words and letting herself go. His thumb moved in slow, even circles on the grip of his rifle as he watched her, letting her go where she needed to go with this. It was, after all, what he had meant in all of this, to get what she felt about it all, to really try to understand. She all but spat at him, the words hissing from her with a venom he doubted she even realized. His expression remained focused, his eyes watching her with a predator’s intensity as her shouting echoed off the walls of the sewer tunnels.
He heard the hunter’s footsteps, the way the boots moved in the water, the light splash of each footfall hard to miss, even amidst her ranting. He didn’t move when she grabbed the knife, didn’t flinch as she flicked the blade around him, and didn’t look back when he heard the knife hit home with the satisfying thump of impact. He tipped his head as the hunter splashed into the water, and didn’t turn until she moved to step around him. His hands moved like lightning, flashing out to grasp her wrist. “What I want to know, is where your brain was when you were deciding that this escapade of yours was a good idea.” He said sharply, tossing her wrist aside and setting her free. He shook his head and turned with her, then, and moved through the darkness of the channel.
He knew there was more to all of it, possibly more than she realized. It was clear enough that she didn’t realize a lot of things. She hated this thing that she had become, but what she had become was simply what she had already been, set free. She was uncaged, unfettered by human frailty and ridiculous administration. The things she did, were simply things she had already wanted to do, and had lacked the means to do them. She had always been a monster, she simply hadn’t realized her potential. He saw that in her, that first night. The anger, the bitter hatred in her eyes. That was as much a reason as any that he had taken her, that he had chosen her out of the crowd.
A rat scurried beneath their feet, passing over his boot as he stepped, kicking the leg and sending the rodent flopping into the muck. He shook his head as he pulled his rifle to his shoulder. “And the next thing, I suppose. Why didn’t you tell me when you came back? Didn’t you think I’d noticed your absence?” He lifted his rifle into the darkness and fired one round. The echo of the shot filled the labyrinthine tunnels, a short yelp of pain followed by a splash, and then silence. A confirmed hit, likely a kill. He dropped his hand to the bolt, and pulled the action along its slide as he tipped his head into the darkness where the body lay. “You can search that one, if you’d like. I have a good head start.”
<Tarisyn> “Don’t touch me.”
At her words, his fingers sprang apart, though she couldn’t defer if it had anything to do with the venom in her tone or not. As long as he left her alone, she wouldn’t think too much on it. Brushing her fingers through her hair, she tried to soothe the demon inside of her. This wasn’t who she was - this had never been her way. She was raised in sunlight, and now she was living in the shadows. Her soul was tainted and her heart was shrouded in shadows - because of him. Even as the thought entered her mind, she knew that it was unjust - but she couldn’t stop it from festering like the plague. Gritting her teeth, she pushed further ahead of him, ignoring the burn of the bullet as it brushed across her arm, before settling into its target with a thud. “If you find the answer, clue me in, because I haven’t the slightest clue.” The truth was heavy in her words, and she slowly shook her head. She hadn’t an idea where her mind was at - hell, she was beginning to wonder if she had a mind left at all. She hadn’t felt this lost since her husband’s murder - even the aftermath wasn’t as confusing. “Leave the rats be.”
When she heard the rodent splash into the muck, she felt a familiar warmth of concern in her chest, though the cold demonic laugh quickly filtered it out. Pressing onward, she listened to him at her back, his words concerned, but his voice bored. It was if the ice that sparkled in his eyes had taken over his soul, and she was no longer looking at the man that had killed her. Instead, the man at her back was frozen and she hadn’t a clue what had caused it. He had been different since his ex-girlfriend’s death, and it had gradually worsened, but she had never expected this. Releasing a quiet sigh, she refused to admit that it was her fault, but she knew that it was. How else could she explain the lack of warmth she had received when she had returned? Running her tongue over her teeth, she scooped down to free the paladin of his sword, her movements swift as she strapped it to her back. “I knew you would notice. We do live together, after all. I didn’t want to deal with this.” She motioned between them as she answered, her brow raised. She turned, then, and began to walk backwards, her eyes gleaming in the shadows.
“You think you know me, but you don’t. I honestly wonder if you ever have. You killed me because I stumbled across you feeding. You left me to drown. It was terrifying, but for some reason, you thought I would be fine. I welcomed that belief from you far too quickly, because it was nice to be believed it. It was different - but I think I gave you the wrong impression along the way.” Her voice broke then, the first spark of true emotion softening her eyes as she clenched her jaw. “I don’t want to be a monster anymore.” Turning from him, then, she wiped beneath her eyes as she felt the cold settle back in her chest. In the back of her mind, her demons cackled, their joy at her pain evident as she curled her fingers around the black bound grip of her blade. With a sharp whisper, she freed it from its sheath, and swung out. The ebony blade cut through the air - and the hunter’s neck - with ease.
Kicking the head to the side, she turned to face him, body tense and muscles coiled. Her eyes were cold again, the emotion that had briefly sparked in them dissipated. “I can’t stop, though. There’s something in my head, something dark. Something starving. Any one that looks like him, anyone that reminds me of him, I can’t help but kill them. I can’t help but send trophies to their families, I can’t help but to make them hurt. I was raised by God, for crying out loud! How did I turn into this?” With a growl, she swung her blade again, this time cutting through the stomach of a huntress, her blue eyes widening with shock as her gun fell from her fingers.
<Valon> Shaking his head, he gave a light sigh as he ran his thumb along the grip of his rifle, trailing the sights along the darkness ahead as she spoke. He set his jaw, teeth grinding together idly as he listened, moving along behind her, keeping her pace. He watched her move, when he chanced to glance away from the sight of his weapon, watching her turn on her heels and remain stride, each step like the prowl of an elegant predator. The frown on his face was frozen into place, his fingers moving deftly along his weapon to prime it for another round.
When she took the huntress in the stomach, he lifted his weapon and fired a single round into her temple, killing the woman in an instant. The body slumped on the end of Tarisyn’s blade, until she fell into the muck at her feet. He moved his hand, re priming the chamber and sliding the bolt back into place. “You didn’t stumble across a damned thing, Tarisyn, and if all that needed doing was removing a witness, then ask yourself; why didn’t I put a bullet in your eye right there? I could have. Just as easily as taking a breath, I could have. But I didn’t. So you stew on that.” He lifted his rifle and pointed into the darkness.
The shadows moved with a subtlety that, without years of training, without the instinct that was ingrained into his very being, he would never have noticed the minute twitch of the darkness that betrayed the hunter. His rifle fired but once, the sharp report answered with a low grunt and a splash. He moved ahead, then, and stepped over the crumpled corpse in the shallows. A boot went beneath the shoulder and flipped the corpse onto its back. Female. Early thirties. She’d been sitting quietly, likely praying that they would miss her. A rosary was tangled between her fingers, the crucifix dangling from her fingertips and brushing against the murky water that would act as her final resting place. He leaned down and searched her pockets, coming away with a few dollars and a fistful of loose ammo. He sighed, and shook his head.
“Useless cowards.” he muttered beneath his breath. The bullet had punched through her skull, dead set center of her forehead. A single crimson tear wept down her face, a cruel dark line following the curve of her nose and losing itself in her lips. She hadn’t even had time to realize she was dead. He resisted the urge to kick the corpse and stood, sliding the bolt on his rifle again, priming the chamber a third time as he quietly ground his teeth. He turned on the woman at his back, then, and stood in an imposing silence, watching her in the dark as he stood still as stone, an impassable obstacle in the bend of the tunnel. His hard eyes watched her with caution before he sighed.
“I know you don’t.” he said finally, letting the muzzle of his rifle lower to the stone floor of the sewer. He pushed his hand into his tactical vest and pulled out a pinch of dirt from the pill bottle he kept tucked neatly in the pocket sewn into its seam. He let his gun hand from the bandolier around his shoulders, and reached with one hand to grasp her wrist. He twisted gently, turning her palm up and sprinkling the earth into her hand. He worked his fingers until the last grain rested in her grasp. “This is just a small pinch of what reminds me of how I was turned, Tarisyn. I’ve never told you about it. When Miss Elizabeth killed me, she buried what was left of me. It was my first test. To see if I was strong enough to survive. Strong enough to dig my way back to life. And so I did.”
He closed her hand around the small pinch of earth and frowned. “I wanted something similar from you. To know that I hadn’t made a mistake in choosing you. I wanted more than your strength. I wanted your intelligence, your cunning. I wanted to make things difficult for you from the start, to push you by challenging you. You’ve succeeded at every turn, and I suppose that you have certainly earned a rest.” He lashed out with his hand, clutching her shoulder in a vice grip of terrifying strength before he yanked her forward, nearly ripping her from her feet as he swept her into an embrace.
The hug was awkward, the monstrously huge man bent in awkward angles to wrap her up, and he so completely out of practice with the sort of emotional phenomenon, that he was most obviously having a difficulty knowing if he was holding her the right way, with the proper strength or no. Slowly, he released her, and held his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to know that you’ve made me proud. You don’t have to do anything, for my benefit. If you don’t want to be this anymore, then we will do what we can, to make you however you want to be.”
You got the world on its knees, you're taking all that you please
You want more, you want more, but you'll get nothing from me. We're enemies.
You want more, you want more, but you'll get nothing from me. We're enemies.
-
Tarisyn (DELETED 5265)
- Posts: 75
- Joined: 12 Mar 2014, 17:02
- Contact:
Re: Hunting Party [Tarisyn]
Shaking her head, she watched as the emotions played across his face. It was rare to see anything other than that usual mask of indifference, and it caused something to break inside of her. She hadn’t hurt herself - but she had damaged him. She wanted to hate him, and yet, the ice that filled her veins wouldn’t allow her to. He had brought this on them both. If he had just left her alone that night, none of this would have happene--
No.
It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. “It’s almost too late,” she whispered, the rest of his words lost on her as she ran her fingers through her hair. She could feel the temperature continue to shift around them, the cold warming as he seemed to grasp at what she had been saying. What had she been saying? She couldn’t remember, but it had been important, hadn’t it? Running her tongue over her lower lip, she drifted her gaze from the huntress as she fell to the ground and focused on him, her eyes unfocused. She didn’t want to leave him, she didn’t want to die again. She wanted to stay, she wanted to believe that she could be fixed, but she knew the truth. She was beyond redemption. It was written across her features. She had given in, she had accepted what she was. She wanted to please him, she wanted to be good, but the demons claws were too deep inside of her. She was never going to give her up, she was always going to thirst for blood - she was always going to win.
“You wanted to break me? You succeeded,” she responded as she felt the dirt grind into her palm. Each grain was counted, but before he could pull back, she dropped it back into the vial. She wanted nothing to do with it. It was his memory, and she knew he was going to need something to hold onto. Shaking her head, she remained completely and utterly still when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her in. It was the affection that broke her, and after a moment of breathing in his familiar scent, she pressed her hands to his chest. She wanted to push him back, but she knew that - at least for a moment - she couldn’t. She needed to feel him, to know that he was real. She believed in the moment that he embraced her that he had missed her, that she had frightened him in a way that she hadn’t thought possible, and it only hurt her more. Lifting her fingers, she trailed them through his hair and down the side of his jaw, before she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. After a second, she pulled back, and her entire demeanor changed. Gone was the woman who had shown a crack in her armor.
“You don’t understand, V. There is nothing you can do for me. It doesn’t matter what I want, it only matters what she wants, and she always wins,” Stepping out of his embrace, she dropped her bag to the floor and tossed open the lid, her fingers sifting through the contents quickly. She was running out of time - she knew she was. She could already feel her rising, her irritation evident as she began to sing. The streets will bleed, bleed, bleed. Gritting her teeth, she finally found what she was looking for, the journal resting easily in her hands as she stood. She screamed in her mind, and she knew her time was out. She was awake - and she wasn’t pleased. “This will help you. This will explain everything. I can’t… I can’t stay. You can’t help me. I’m the monster, Valon. I’m the monster you made me.” Her words were slurred, and as she shoved the journal into his chest, she grabbed her blades and offered him a cold, desolate smile. “I shouldn’t have come back.”
She didn’t wait to hear him speak, not this time. Her eyes shifted, the familiar greens he had come to love, changing to pit of shadows in a second. Her lips twisted into a cold smile as she shut herself down, blocking the emotions - the love - from her heart. Without missing a beat, she took off down the sewers and leaped, her fingers curling around the rusted rungs to pull herself out of the darkness. The streets, the streets, they’re going to scream tonight.
The remaining pages were filled with photos after that point. She had succumbed to the beast inside of her, and breathed life into the demon that kept singing in her head. There was no reason for words, and the pictures spoke the story so beautifully. Men, with their eyes wide and unfocused, their blood spraying in a crimson arc across the walls. Their hair, all blonde, curled around her slender fingers as she exposed their necks. They looked so much alike, and yet, the couldn’t have been more different. Each had a family, and their sorrow and horror filled the pages, but that wasn’t the worse part. That wasn’t the part that revealed anything.
It was the stains where she had cried, each drop a reminder of what was lost inside the chaos.
When he flipped to the last page, there were only a few short words written - but by then, she was long gone. She knew - or did she hope - that he would find her. He had to find her.
No.
It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. “It’s almost too late,” she whispered, the rest of his words lost on her as she ran her fingers through her hair. She could feel the temperature continue to shift around them, the cold warming as he seemed to grasp at what she had been saying. What had she been saying? She couldn’t remember, but it had been important, hadn’t it? Running her tongue over her lower lip, she drifted her gaze from the huntress as she fell to the ground and focused on him, her eyes unfocused. She didn’t want to leave him, she didn’t want to die again. She wanted to stay, she wanted to believe that she could be fixed, but she knew the truth. She was beyond redemption. It was written across her features. She had given in, she had accepted what she was. She wanted to please him, she wanted to be good, but the demons claws were too deep inside of her. She was never going to give her up, she was always going to thirst for blood - she was always going to win.
“You wanted to break me? You succeeded,” she responded as she felt the dirt grind into her palm. Each grain was counted, but before he could pull back, she dropped it back into the vial. She wanted nothing to do with it. It was his memory, and she knew he was going to need something to hold onto. Shaking her head, she remained completely and utterly still when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her in. It was the affection that broke her, and after a moment of breathing in his familiar scent, she pressed her hands to his chest. She wanted to push him back, but she knew that - at least for a moment - she couldn’t. She needed to feel him, to know that he was real. She believed in the moment that he embraced her that he had missed her, that she had frightened him in a way that she hadn’t thought possible, and it only hurt her more. Lifting her fingers, she trailed them through his hair and down the side of his jaw, before she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. After a second, she pulled back, and her entire demeanor changed. Gone was the woman who had shown a crack in her armor.
“You don’t understand, V. There is nothing you can do for me. It doesn’t matter what I want, it only matters what she wants, and she always wins,” Stepping out of his embrace, she dropped her bag to the floor and tossed open the lid, her fingers sifting through the contents quickly. She was running out of time - she knew she was. She could already feel her rising, her irritation evident as she began to sing. The streets will bleed, bleed, bleed. Gritting her teeth, she finally found what she was looking for, the journal resting easily in her hands as she stood. She screamed in her mind, and she knew her time was out. She was awake - and she wasn’t pleased. “This will help you. This will explain everything. I can’t… I can’t stay. You can’t help me. I’m the monster, Valon. I’m the monster you made me.” Her words were slurred, and as she shoved the journal into his chest, she grabbed her blades and offered him a cold, desolate smile. “I shouldn’t have come back.”
She didn’t wait to hear him speak, not this time. Her eyes shifted, the familiar greens he had come to love, changing to pit of shadows in a second. Her lips twisted into a cold smile as she shut herself down, blocking the emotions - the love - from her heart. Without missing a beat, she took off down the sewers and leaped, her fingers curling around the rusted rungs to pull herself out of the darkness. The streets, the streets, they’re going to scream tonight.
September 17, 2014
I thought I saw him.
Could he be reanimated?
No, it wasn't right.
It couldn't have been him.
So, I followed him.
I followed him to his pretty little house with his pretty little wife and his pretty little kids.
I followed him inside, where she kissed him on the cheek.
I followed him inside, where he called her 'baby.'
I followed him inside, where she brushed her fingers through his hair.
I followed him upstairs.
And then he was mine.
I don't remember much after that.
Laughter, crying, screaming.
There was blood.
A lot of blood.
I wonder if his pretty little wife will like the present I gave her...
After all, she did seem to like his hair....
September 18, 2014
I watched as his pretty little wife opened the door.
I watched as her daughter rushed past her and picked up the package.
I should have felt something.
I should have stopped her.
It wasn’t her gift.
Instead, I watched.
I watched, and the voice in my head laughed.
She clapped her hands as the girl opened the lid.
She howled when she started to shriek.
She danced, oh, did she dance when his pretty little wife looked inside.
I smiled when she cried out.
I blew a kiss when her porch ran red with blood.
September 19, 2014
What is happening to me?
What have I done?
I woke up in the back room of Eclipse with the taste of blood on my tongue. I brushed my teeth so many times, and I couldn’t remove it. It clings to me, a reminder that I ripped apart a family - except, I couldn’t have. I wouldn’t have! I’m not a monster and I’m not a murderer. I never would have… no, it’s impossible. There has to be another explanation! It had to have been someone else, a sick, twisted game to… to do what? I can’t think of anyone that would resort to these measures to torture me, unless Sarah Jane has finally snapped. No, she wouldn’t. She has to know I didn’t kill him, she has to believe that I was framed - or that I’m dead.
Elijah? Would he go that far to bring me down? His record was spotless - God, what am I thinking? I’m condemning these people the same way they condemned me. They had nothing to do with this, they believe I’m dead! There has to be another reason, another person…
I’m not a monster.
I’m not.
I’m… not….
September 20, 2014
I saw him again.
He wasn’t alone.
He had his arms around a pretty young thing.
Her hair reminded me of honey.
Her eyes reminded me of the sea.
He reminded me of pain.
I watched as he kissed her throat.
I watched as he gripped her to him.
I clenched my fists as he removed her clothes.
I grinned as I stepped out of the shadows.
They screamed.
He yelled at me.
He lunged.
I snapped his neck.
It was quick.
Too quick.
It was worthless.
‘He was going to hurt you,’ I said.
She screamed at me.
She cowered.
‘He would have let you down,’ I continued.
She began to cry.
She pulled a gun.
I ripped out her heart.
A casualty of war.
I took both of their heads to the addresses in their wallets.
Her father had a heart attack.
His mother screamed.
It was beautiful.
September 25, 2014
I’m losing track of time.
I remember standing in my office, the order book in my hands - and then I was standing in front of an old, run down apartment building. A woman was shaking my shoulder, her eyes filled with fear and concern as she hastily spoke to me in a language I couldn’t understand. She was motioning wildly at my shirt, and it took me a minute to realize why. I was covered in blood. No, I was drenched in it. It clung to me like a second skin, weighing me down, and it covered her hands. She was screaming at me, her fingers clutching my shoulders, the bony digits digging into my skin. She was shaking me, and I couldn’t understand her. I couldn’t understand a damn thing.
I realized she was speaking English.
My first language, a language I have spoken since I was born, and I couldn’t understand it. It was like an alien tongue, and I couldn’t pick apart the meanings. There were just a few words spoken, and I pulled them out, one by one. ‘Hunters,’ she screamed, her fists slamming into my chest. ‘Death,’ she continued, and gave me another shove. Everything else, though, was whitenoise. Suddenly her eyes grew wide, and she took off running, her slippered feet dragging across the cement as she made her hasty escape, becoming a ghost in the night. I still stood there.
What happened? What have I done this time? I want to believe that I’m innocent, that I could never do such a thing, but the proof is hard to miss. I was - I am - a woman of God, but there is no further evidence that there is anyone else involved. It has to be me - at least, someone controlling me. There is something inside of me, something that is pushing me to the edge. There is something that needs to be fed, and it’s out of my control. I am just a puppet, an instrument of death, and there is nothing I can do. There is no one I can turn to. Valon would never understand.
Or maybe he would, and that is what keeps me away.
He embraces death. He wears it like a coat. He dances in it, finds joy in it. He is darkness, and I am - was - the light. How can I tell him I’ve fallen? How can I tell him I hate him? This is his fault, the voice whispers, and I am powerless to disagree. He has lead this to me. He has caused this.
I’m not a monster.
I’m not a monster.
I’m… not…
I thought I saw him.
Could he be reanimated?
No, it wasn't right.
It couldn't have been him.
So, I followed him.
I followed him to his pretty little house with his pretty little wife and his pretty little kids.
I followed him inside, where she kissed him on the cheek.
I followed him inside, where he called her 'baby.'
I followed him inside, where she brushed her fingers through his hair.
I followed him upstairs.
And then he was mine.
I don't remember much after that.
Laughter, crying, screaming.
There was blood.
A lot of blood.
I wonder if his pretty little wife will like the present I gave her...
After all, she did seem to like his hair....
September 18, 2014
I watched as his pretty little wife opened the door.
I watched as her daughter rushed past her and picked up the package.
I should have felt something.
I should have stopped her.
It wasn’t her gift.
Instead, I watched.
I watched, and the voice in my head laughed.
She clapped her hands as the girl opened the lid.
She howled when she started to shriek.
She danced, oh, did she dance when his pretty little wife looked inside.
I smiled when she cried out.
I blew a kiss when her porch ran red with blood.
September 19, 2014
What is happening to me?
What have I done?
I woke up in the back room of Eclipse with the taste of blood on my tongue. I brushed my teeth so many times, and I couldn’t remove it. It clings to me, a reminder that I ripped apart a family - except, I couldn’t have. I wouldn’t have! I’m not a monster and I’m not a murderer. I never would have… no, it’s impossible. There has to be another explanation! It had to have been someone else, a sick, twisted game to… to do what? I can’t think of anyone that would resort to these measures to torture me, unless Sarah Jane has finally snapped. No, she wouldn’t. She has to know I didn’t kill him, she has to believe that I was framed - or that I’m dead.
Elijah? Would he go that far to bring me down? His record was spotless - God, what am I thinking? I’m condemning these people the same way they condemned me. They had nothing to do with this, they believe I’m dead! There has to be another reason, another person…
I’m not a monster.
I’m not.
I’m… not….
September 20, 2014
I saw him again.
He wasn’t alone.
He had his arms around a pretty young thing.
Her hair reminded me of honey.
Her eyes reminded me of the sea.
He reminded me of pain.
I watched as he kissed her throat.
I watched as he gripped her to him.
I clenched my fists as he removed her clothes.
I grinned as I stepped out of the shadows.
They screamed.
He yelled at me.
He lunged.
I snapped his neck.
It was quick.
Too quick.
It was worthless.
‘He was going to hurt you,’ I said.
She screamed at me.
She cowered.
‘He would have let you down,’ I continued.
She began to cry.
She pulled a gun.
I ripped out her heart.
A casualty of war.
I took both of their heads to the addresses in their wallets.
Her father had a heart attack.
His mother screamed.
It was beautiful.
September 25, 2014
I’m losing track of time.
I remember standing in my office, the order book in my hands - and then I was standing in front of an old, run down apartment building. A woman was shaking my shoulder, her eyes filled with fear and concern as she hastily spoke to me in a language I couldn’t understand. She was motioning wildly at my shirt, and it took me a minute to realize why. I was covered in blood. No, I was drenched in it. It clung to me like a second skin, weighing me down, and it covered her hands. She was screaming at me, her fingers clutching my shoulders, the bony digits digging into my skin. She was shaking me, and I couldn’t understand her. I couldn’t understand a damn thing.
I realized she was speaking English.
My first language, a language I have spoken since I was born, and I couldn’t understand it. It was like an alien tongue, and I couldn’t pick apart the meanings. There were just a few words spoken, and I pulled them out, one by one. ‘Hunters,’ she screamed, her fists slamming into my chest. ‘Death,’ she continued, and gave me another shove. Everything else, though, was whitenoise. Suddenly her eyes grew wide, and she took off running, her slippered feet dragging across the cement as she made her hasty escape, becoming a ghost in the night. I still stood there.
What happened? What have I done this time? I want to believe that I’m innocent, that I could never do such a thing, but the proof is hard to miss. I was - I am - a woman of God, but there is no further evidence that there is anyone else involved. It has to be me - at least, someone controlling me. There is something inside of me, something that is pushing me to the edge. There is something that needs to be fed, and it’s out of my control. I am just a puppet, an instrument of death, and there is nothing I can do. There is no one I can turn to. Valon would never understand.
Or maybe he would, and that is what keeps me away.
He embraces death. He wears it like a coat. He dances in it, finds joy in it. He is darkness, and I am - was - the light. How can I tell him I’ve fallen? How can I tell him I hate him? This is his fault, the voice whispers, and I am powerless to disagree. He has lead this to me. He has caused this.
I’m not a monster.
I’m not a monster.
I’m… not…
The remaining pages were filled with photos after that point. She had succumbed to the beast inside of her, and breathed life into the demon that kept singing in her head. There was no reason for words, and the pictures spoke the story so beautifully. Men, with their eyes wide and unfocused, their blood spraying in a crimson arc across the walls. Their hair, all blonde, curled around her slender fingers as she exposed their necks. They looked so much alike, and yet, the couldn’t have been more different. Each had a family, and their sorrow and horror filled the pages, but that wasn’t the worse part. That wasn’t the part that revealed anything.
It was the stains where she had cried, each drop a reminder of what was lost inside the chaos.
When he flipped to the last page, there were only a few short words written - but by then, she was long gone. She knew - or did she hope - that he would find her. He had to find her.
12/25/2015
I was dead.
It was revenge.
The shadows.
The screams.
It wasn't pleasant.
It didn't ease the need.
They thought they had won.
They have no idea it was only the beginning…
I was dead.
It was revenge.
The shadows.
The screams.
It wasn't pleasant.
It didn't ease the need.
They thought they had won.
They have no idea it was only the beginning…
Killer | Shifter | Allurist
.Deux Corbeaux. Blame it on my own sick pride. Valons Viper.
++ Owner of Eclipse, Blood Moon, Crescent and New Moon. ++
.Deux Corbeaux. Blame it on my own sick pride. Valons Viper.
++ Owner of Eclipse, Blood Moon, Crescent and New Moon. ++