Immune – 1

Continuation of the new series, Immune.  

Collaboration with Jsmn.

 

Jsmn:

 

After calling him as if it’s the only name in the world besides hers, finally he appeared in her sight. She was aching, in pain, in fear and the cold. “WHAT?!” he was pissed, anyone would know with his tone but what can she do? She’s freaking scared. “I-I…”
“OH MY GOD!” she slowly looked to where he was looking and as she saw what is lying beneath her, her heart almost skipped a beat. Feeling the sticky blood still warm in her hands. Her hand started trembling… she doesn’t remember anything but she knows in the depths of her consciousness, it’s the first time that she saw a dead body. Hiccups started before her tears fall, “M-M..M.-” she mumbled with partial hiccups and trembling voice. She won’t scream, that won’t do a thing but more danger.

 

 

Razor:

 

Instinct to protect even in the event of being in serious pain moved Michael to try and pull Claire away from the terrible face. As he pulled her back, he could see the slick of fresh blood that was now coating Claire in a sticky mess. This would only add to the horror of the situation. The poor girl may have been brave and ballsy up to this point, but even he was afraid of what they had landed on. “I know…I know. Shhh..shh…come on.” She couldn’t get his name out, just the repeated M’s again. But it was the smattering of tears that showed that this was just too much for her to take in. Perhaps leaving that room wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Michael’s own body was now shaking. Most likely a mix of pain and shock, but he tried his best to soothe the girl’s mind as he continued to drag her to the other wall, as far from the body as he could get her. His right shoulder was now lopsided from his left, and while he wanted nothing more than to bang his shoulder back into place, he instead tried to comfort Claire.

“It’s…just a dead body. Can’t bite you.”

 

 

Jsmn:

 

 

She’s too much in shock, that she doesn’t mind that Michael dragged her out of there. Away from that terror. She braced herself, calming the thumping heart inside her chest but the tears won’t stop. She clenched her fists on her now surely stained with blood light dress. That’s the first time she noticed why she was cold, with this light dress, anyone would freeze in this place.

“It’s…just a dead body. Can’t bite you.” She knew what he meant and knew he was right. She looked at him, sniffing. “I’m cold…” she answered, rubbing her hands together. Now she knows, he’s not a bad guy actually he’s being considerate, even when she’s nothing but rude.

 

 

Razor:

 

The bite had gone out of Claire’s voice. She like he was genuinely scared of the position that they both found themselves in. As reality started to set in, that they were now in a dark hallway with what was a dead body, and no real lighting or sign of anyone else, Michael’s mind started to come to a very dramatic conclusion of where they were and what had happened. Piecing together the fact that they had been in a barricaded room, isolated from the outside – then something had happened to warrant them being put there. Though by whom and why, remained a mystery. Both of them had wounds and injuries that aside from his now dislocated shoulder, could not be explained, or even remembered. All they knew was their own names…their first names. But was that really who they were?

Why was a dead body outside the door to the darkened room? How long had it been there? And most importantly, who locked them away?

Hearing Claire say she was cold, Michael tried to pull her closer to him. Thinking that maybe his own body heat might help warm her just enough to help her, but at the same time, he knew that they couldn’t stay in this place. They needed to get out. They needed a plan.

 

 

Jsmn:

 

 

She flinched a little when Michael held her. Now having him closer, she could smell him. Aside from sweat, there is something more like a medicine. She know somewhere inside her, how medicine and chemical smell like. There is something with their smell, that makes her want to puke. She gently pushed him away “You don’t need to go that far. But thanks anyway…” She wiped the strands of her hair and tears off her face. Now looking at Michael, “Did you fell into something earlier? or knocked over? Like a liquid medicine or something like that?” She asked with inquiring eyes

 

 

Razor:

 

Michael’s attempt to help keep Claire warm only had her react as though he was trying something on. Like…that was the last thing on his mind right now. He rolled his eyes as she pushed herself away from him, and let out a sigh. Still feeling pain in nearly every part of his body. It was his shoulder that was really doing him harm though. Until it was popped back in his socket, he was enduring pain on the scale of 11/10. With her now off him to a degree, Michael pushed himself up awkwardly to standing, and then looked at either wall, to see which looked like it could take the force of his weight, when he tried to slam his shoulder back in. While he was sizing up a run, Claire had to ask something that was so out there, that it had him stop and think for a moment.

“Did you fell into something earlier? or knocked over? Like a liquid medicine or something like that?”

“I ran into the door, holding you. The only thing I can see that I might have rolled in was the blood of the dead guy.” Maybe his sense of smell was a bit out of whack, or he was too busy trying to deal with the pain he was in. Shaking his head, he went back to focusing on the wall. The thought of hitting it in the charge was making him nervous and he couldn’t deal with Claire’s questions on top of everything. With a loud roar, he charged the wall, and you could hear the sickening crunch then pop as his shoulder was slammed back into place. The pain….he couldn’t begin to explain, but there was a sweet relief that his shoulder was back where it should be. Leaning with perspiration running off his forehead, he wheezed as the strike took a lot out of him.

Placing an opened palm on the wall, he pushed himself away from the wall, leaving behind a purplish streak of a hand print. Was this the medicine that she inquired about?

 

 

Jsmn:

 

 

“I ran into the door, holding you. The only thing I can see that I might have rolled in was the blood of the dead guy.”
“No..think care-” before she could finish her sentence, Michael started running like a wild dog, towards what she lately known to be a wall just after the collision. After hearing like a crack sound, she pushed herself up. Running towards him, grabbing his arm (unfortunately the one which was just brought back together) “Are you out of your mind?!” She exclaimed almost biting her tongue. “What are you doing! What if you lost conscious here? That can’t happen..” she stopped before she could say her next words. That she would be scared without his active presence.

 

 

Razor:

 

 

“Are you out of your mind?!”

“ACK! LET GO OF MY ARM!”

Claire had to grab a hold of Michael’s arm, the one that was attached to the shoulder he just rammed back into its socket. His voice was shrill, as he tried to get her to let go. He knew what he was doing, trying to put it back in place, and he thought that her reaction was way over the top. Siting that the last thing she needed was for him to lose consciousness. Michael stared at her, wide eyed. Surely she understood that he couldn’t walk around with his arm hanging by a thread.

“I was fixing myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve popped it.”

A look washed over Michael’s face, as he said something that you would class as a memory. How he knew that, and nothing else made him feel uncomfortable. You could see the confusion in his eyes, as he tried to make sense of it all. Wiping his hand down the side of his shirt, he then looked left and right, trying to determine which way to go. They simply couldn’t stay here. Michael knew that there had to be a way to get out of this strange building and to find help.

 

 

Jsmn:

 

 

“ACK! LET GO OF MY ARM!”
She quickly let go, quite surprised with his reaction. She looked away, when he stared at her. “I was fixing myself. This isn’t the first time I’ve popped it.” She didn’t know, how would she know. He do things just as he wanted to, and there he hurt himself by doing so, and now she’s at fault for actually caring? “You should have asked for my help. I know I can do that…At least the pain won’t be that so painful..” she muttered. When she looked back at him, she saw the purplish stains on his clothes. “Stop…don’t move…”she said with her hand halfway to the slightly scattered stains on his clothes.

 

Razor:

 

Claire probably found Michael’s way of dealing with his own problems a bit much. For example, he tried to help her for the most part from the time that they woke up in the darkened room, but she gave him so much lip that his good intentions were being stomped on. He wasn’t a bad guy, quite the opposite. Just as much in the dark as she was about everything that had happened to them before they woke up. His overreaction to her touching his arm was like a knee jerk reaction, and not meant to upset her. He listened to her apologize, if you could call it that and then she must have seen something that caught her attention. Like a total derailment from the issue with his arm.

Claire moved her hand towards his shirt, and when Michael looked down, he then noticed the purplish stain that was on his shirt. It was the exact place where he wiped his hand. This caused him to raise his hand, and then it became clear that he must have placed his hand in some sort of liquid that was not blood at all. It didn’t smell like blood, or have the same coloring.

“What the hell is this?”

He turned over his wrist to see if it was on the back of his hand as well.

“You know how I thought that this…might be some sort of hospital?” Michael started. “I think it is. Or was.”

Michael then saw a colored number sign on the wall. It was a green three. So this must be the third floor. Michael then put his soiled hand up to Claire’s face.

“What does it smell like to you?”

 

Jsmn:

 

“What the hell is this?”
That’s what she wanted to know too. It obviously doesn’t seem like blood, is it what she smelled before? Medicine? What type of medicine would that be? She thought still looking at the stains.
“You know how I thought that this…might be some sort of hospital?”
“I think it is. Or was.”
Now, with the circumstances maybe he’s right and it’s stupid of her to made fun of his theory before. Still, her attention on the stains on his clothes. Then she snapped, as he put his hand almost inches away from her face.
“What does it smell like to you?”
“God! You don’t really listen! I just told you not to move and you kept on moving…” She exclaimed, now she sounds like a mother who kept on nagging her son about not being obedient. “What do you think of me some animal?” She murmured, almost pouting. “Now, I’ll hold your hand, Okay? Try not to make me kick you if you try that reaction earlier again with me…” She said, “Understood?” she asked.

 

 

Razor:

 

Michael’s face fell when Claire sounded off at him….again. It was just like when they had been in the darkened room at the beginning of this nightmare. By offering up his hand for her to smell, he was doing so to see if she could give him a clue as to what it was he had on it. But she yelled at him, her voice like that of a nagging mother to her son. It really wasn’t very nice. In fact, Michael cringed and his shoulders lowered just a touch. She begged the question that he considered her to be some kind of animal. That was the furthest idea from his mind. “No.” He answered, looking a bit upset that she’d even suggest it. She told him point blank that she was holding his hand from here on out. Michael wasn’t a kid, but he was starting to feel like one. Should he just give in and let her take charge? For now at least, he’d concede defeat.

“Yes Ma’am”

 

Jsmn:

 

She sighed, and gently held his hand. “What if it’s poison? you have too many open wounds…and you just carelessly scattered the liquid on your hand like this” She said carefully leaned her head towards his hand. “I just met you moments ago, but you’re all I have for now, I don’t want you dying stupidly like that” She added, then started sniffing. She stopped for a moment, surprised that she clearly remembers that smell. From before, she’s not sure but knew that scent was familiar and now that she could smell it clearly, she’ knows for sure what that liquid was. “Dermabond.” she said. “It’s dermabond…” she chuckled foolishly being over cautious over nothing serious.

 

Razor:

 

“It’s derma what?”

Michael had no idea what dermabond was. But from the reaction that Claire was experiencing, it wasn’t the dangerous substance that she thought it could have been at first. The young male continued to look puzzled, but he wasn’t about to raise his hand again, since Claire was liable to go off the deep end.

“So I can’t die from it. That’s reassuring, I guess.” Michael was starting to think that the dermabond was the last thing that they really needed to worry about. He exhaled loudly, before looking down at her once again. When she mentioned that while she didn’t know him well, he was really all she had as there was no sign of anything or anyone living in the building they were in.

 

Jsmn:

 

“It’s derma what?”
“So I can’t die from it. That’s reassuring, I guess.”
“Yes you can’t. It’s Dermabond, a kind of wound closing medicine. I think you need to really, scatter that on your arms. I see some wounds there…” She said. “You see…I think I’m starting to regain a bit of my memory. I really know that scent, as in knew it. Maybe I’m a doctor’s daughter or a pharmacist’s? or maybe I was dead sick just before this happened and been in the hospital?…and was left here to die…” she said, embracing the idea that they are in a hospital building. She suddenly started to get a little depressed. She doesn’t know if she likes to even remember what she had forgotten, maybe this thing happening was her way out of her maybe sympathetic life. “Well…at least they left you too with me…I’m not completely alone” she said with a faint smile.

 

 

Razor:

 

“I knew that.” Michael made a face like he was trying to cover up the fact that he didn’t really know what dermabond was. But by the sounds of it, this purplish gunk was actually helpful. Looking at his arms now, he could see that there were cut like abrasions, and he started to slap his wet hand up and down his arm, before smacking his hands together and then rubbing it into the other arm (which was still sore). Claire might have said not to let go of her hand, but considering that he was actually wearing something helpful to him, he might as well put it to good use. As he went about his self medicating, Claire spoke about how she felt that due to knowing the smell and recognizing the ointment then maybe she was getting a little bit of her memory back. But that is the funny thing about memories. Some things like certain smells, or tastes can invoke reactions that may give you only a puzzle piece of the full picture. And when you look at just that one piece out of say…a thousand, you really can’t see what it what it all is.

As much as he didn’t want to burst her bubble, at her thoughts about their current situation, but he was starting to wonder about the whole being left here with a purpose. Like why were they left in a locked room? And how long had they been there? Were they left there to die?

Claire’s only consolation was the fact that she was not alone. The problem was she didn’t know anything about Michael, just as he didn’t even know himself. What was to say he was a good guy? What if…their memories were erased on purpose?

“Instead of guessing who you might be, or why you are here with me; perhaps we should go look and work out exactly where we are first. You may not like what you find.” Michael was trying to be realistic about where they stood.

 

Jsmn:

 

“Instead of guessing who you might be, or why you are here with me; perhaps we should go look and work out exactly where we are first. You may not like what you find.”
She knows that. Guessing won’t help, but it makes her feel less lost and scared trying to figure out…guessing who and what kind of person she is. Even if it would turn out to be wrong, it’s better than nothing. “I know that…” she answered, now feeling like she was being stupid. She worked her way to what she can tell is a window, but tried not to stray away from Michael. She thought for a moment staring, if the windows are painted, or covered somehow. She wiped it with her hand, but she still can’t see anything through the window. “What the-” she muttered and try wiping it again. “Michael come here..” she called him. “It’s the same, it’s dark outside. If it’s night there should be at least a street light out there, but I can’t see a thing.” she added.

 

 

Razor:

 

It was almost like, they would answer each other in defense. Not being totally honest to save face perhaps, or to stop from feeling stupid. They hadn’t really gotten off to the best of starts, and it was plain that some of the behaviors that each exhibited rubbed off on the other. But if they were to find out what happened, and who they really were, then they were going to have to work together, and put all differences aside. Michael was trying to roll his shoulder and get his muscles working properly, as Claire wandered over to what was a window. This was probably the furtherest distance they had been apart so far, and of course what she discovered was that the world beyond the window was pitch black. No house lights, no car lights, no street lights. Ambling over, Michael peered through the window, scrunching up his face as he tried to make out shapes in the dark. It was as though there was a massive power black out. The kind when there is a serious storm, or simple government power shedding. But given the lack of people…or signs of life, Michael was starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Drawing back from the window he said.

“I don’t like the look of this.”

He turned to face her, his face turning pale. “What if….there is no one else out there?”

 

 

Immune.

Outside is no different than inside the room. It’s dark, as if the whole world was swallowed by night. But just before the block out, a virus called P-M (Project mutation) was spread through out the city, which made the humans, turn into flesh eating creatures. And we, we are immune. (Probably experimented on by the government, the same who made the P-M virus) and we are being monitored on.

Jsmn:  

 

We woke up together, in a dark square room. Every inch of our body aches, that every little movement we make causes pain. I tried thinking, rummaging through my memories, the reason why we are here. But all was blank. All I remember is my name, Claire, and that I have to stay with you to be able to survive.

 

Razor:

 

Ever have one of those mornings right after a bender and you wake up with a stale yet bitter taste in your mouth – almost like metal. Groggy and for some reason you feel like every part of you is aching. That was how it was as Michael’s eyelids started to move. Slowly opening, though really one at a time. His hand moving up to rub the sleep that had built up in the corner of his eyes.. Ugh….there was a sensation in his gut, like he knew he wanted to be sick. Mixing the sick feeling with trying to figure out what the hell he’d done to end up like this, he turned his head slightly – just enough to see that he wasn’t alone.

“Okaaay….” There was a girl beside Michael. She was pretty, that much he could tell through the haze of waking. Question was…who was she? Why couldn’t he remember what he had done the night before? Raking back his hair as he moved his hand from his eyes to the back of his head, he tried to sit up, but then felt a terrible pain in his gut again. Had he eaten something to make him so sick that he could barely move to sit up. All he could think to say was…

“Are you okay?”

 

Jsmn:

 

Pain, Pain and Pain. That’s all she knew she felt, she’s sure there’s more but the pain is the overwhelming one. She opened her eyes, and closed it again, and opened it again. Am i blind? She thought of, at the same time trying to remember anything that would explain what is happening but everything was blank just like a paper, where her name was the only thing written. Then she heard, a slight sound…breathing? She’s sure it’s not hers.

“Okaaay….” hearing that voice, now she’s positive she’s not alone. She opened her eyes again, slower this time. But still everything was dark, as if her eyes were still shut. Another slight rustling sound, she tried to locate where could he be, but not intending to move, since she knows it will bring her more pain since every part of her body aches.

“Are you okay?” she took a deep breath and sighed. “No…Are you?” She answered quite irritated. “And stop making those creepy sounds…I can’t actually move and see you, you see…and don’t come near me…” She added.

 

Razor:

 

Whoever this girl was beside him, she wasn’t entirely happy to hear him speak. Probably was a good thing that Michael couldn’t remember her at all. The weird part thought was that she was laying beside him and yet was telling him that she didn’t want him touching her. Michael could manage to turn his head, just enough to see her – well the outline of her face. But as for trying to get up, well that was something that he had not yet been able to do. She complained about the creepy sounds she was hearing, insinuating that it was him doing it. As far as Michael was concerned, he didn’t think he sounded creepy – more like he was sick. She should thank her stars that he didn’t end up being sick all over her face at the moment. He had just enough willpower to keep whatever it was in his stomach, down.

Opening his eyes wider, it was hard to make out exactly where they were. The room was really quite dark, and there didn’t appear to be windows, or even a door from where they were both laying.

“No, I feel like I have been hit by a truck…then a bus, and ran over by a train.” That was just about the level of pain he was in, though he was being a little elaborate in his explanation. “And..if I touch you, it’s not cause I want to.” Michael had to add that cause she was right beside him. Normally, he didn’t mind holding a pretty girl in his arms, though right now he didn’t really feel like he could even pick anything up if he tried.

“My bets are that someone slipped us roofies…and…we are in some sort of…hospital.”

Only problem with his theory was there was no sign of medical equipment and not only that the room smelt musty, almost like whatever filtration system was running had not been cleaned in like…forever. There was something really wrong with this scene. He turned his head again towards the girl and said. “Not to be rude, Miss….but who are you?”

 

Jsmn:

 

She waited until he was done blabbering his thoughts. And now she knows, they were pretty just beside each other, hearing him speak. “Are you an idiot? How can this be a hospital? Hospitals supposed to be bright, smelly and well, disgusting…” She said, almost choking herself with her sarcastic laugh but sounded like she’s choking. She coughed, and took a deep breath. “Well, I’m pretty hurt too. I can’t even move an inch…and yes, I know now that we are basically lying beside each other..Just try not to touch me, I don’t have the energy to even scream in pain if you happen to hit one of my I don’t know how many wounds…”

“It’s Claire…I don’t know what comes next…Just Claire…” She answered, “and you?”

 

Razor:

 

You know when you get that wish, that like if you had to share a room with a pretty girl, that she’d be sweet and adorable. Well, this girl was paying lip service, and not in a good way. First off, calling him an idiot for suggesting the room that they were in was a hospital. Sure, it didn’t appear anything like a hospital, but why else would they both be lying together in a dark room, unless this was the worst motel room in the city. This…was just all wrong, and with this girl laughing at him now, was making it all the worse. When she coughed from her little fit of laughter, it was hard not to smile. Michael was never one to be rude to strangers, but this girl had a nice way of winding him up, even if she didn’t realize she was doing it or not. The girl started to complain about not being able to move, which was a little similar to how Michael felt. It was like his arms were dead weights, and just lifting his hand to brush back his hair took some effort.

In a way it was like being trapped without restraints. Like, she…this girl who went on to say her name was Claire – said she didn’t want to be touched, cause she felt that she was covered in wounds. But why would they both be injured, laying in a dark room together and not being able to remember what happened to put them in this predicament. If he had been a girl, he would have been screaming for whoever put them there to come and let them out. But, being that he was a grown man, he had to not only put up with Claire, but he had to mind his manners in the light of things. One thing though…he couldn’t remember much about himself. She was able to sprout off her name, but it took Michael a good minute to remember his. That….was all he could remember.

“I think…I’m Michael.”

Now the worry was starting to creep in.

“Do you remember anything? How you came to be here….with me?”

 

Jsmn:

 

She knew that was a little rude of her but then words sometimes just blurts out before we could scale them whether it’s rude or not. Well, she thinks maybe she’s just screwed that way, if she’s wrong, if maybe her self that she’d forgotten is a little more of a sweet talker, that’s much better. “You think?…so, we both don’t remember that much huh?” She answered, “All there is…is just Claire. I don’t even know if that’s really my name. I don’t want to state the obvious, but I think we are captured…are you a smuggler or what?” She added, tho she know that’s really not the case here. It’s far more, serious and dangerous. She felt her heart thumping, and little by little, it’s getting hard to breath. She lifted her hand up with all her might, looking carefully if she’s injured there or not. “Good…” She whispered seeing only a few scratches and lifted it up towards where she thinks Michael was. “Let me do a hand shake, Michael… Don’t waste it, it took more energy than it supposed to be and hold on to it…” she said.

 

Razor:

 

So this girl, Claire; knew as much as he did. Just a name. That was all either could remember. The feelings were pain that was hard to describe, really. Although Michael had given a good go at it. His examples were treated lightly, till it appeared that Claire was now also trying to come to grips with the situation they were both in. “So we don’t both remember much.” Well that was a given. From what Michael could see he wasn’t even sure what he was wearing. His head straining slightly as he raised it enough to cast down to his shirt and pants, that both appeared to be bloodied and torn. You could try to deduce from things like attire, to match into the fact he was still in a lot of pain. As Claire continued to speak, about how she wasn’t even sure if she was actually Claire, Michael let out a roar of pain, as he forced himself with all his might to sit up. It was like his skin was tearing wide open, and no words could truly describe the feelings. His face however showed all he needed too. Brows deeply furrowed, and he was squinting so hard, you couldn’t see his eyes at all.

“AAARRRGGGHHH!”

His voice echoed throughout the darkened room till it died away, leaving him panting heavily. Claire asked if Michael was a smuggler, to which Michael let out a half laugh, as though she had to be kidding.

“I don’t even know what day it is, or what happened to me. If I were a smuggler, I am a pretty shitty one.”

Looking down at Claire she had managed to just lift her hand enough to shake, as some sort of attempt at greeting. A more formal one that early on. As not to waste his strength, he merely took her pinky and gave it a small shake.

“There….not wasted.” He released her finger and continued to observe his surrounds. Trying to listen out for the sounds of other voices, or machinery. Anything that might give off a clue as to where they were being held.

 

Jsmn:

 

“I don’t even know what day it is, or what happened to me. If I were a smuggler, I am a pretty shitty one.” She would be happy if that was really the case here. Feeling his hand, well, she doesn’t know if she can call it a hand shake. “There….not wasted.”
“I told you, hold on to it” She said. “Hold on to it…” She demanded, still not taking her hand away. “I think you’re hurting more than I am. I’ll try to…” she took a deep breath, “I’ll try to stand…” taking another one, “It’s getting hard to breath here, Michael….” she added.​

 

Razor:

 

Michael wasn’t expecting Claire to suddenly get clingy. First she says not to waste energy on the handshake, then she reminds him that she wanted him to hold onto her hand. Girls….seriously. Keeping hold of her finger, he slid his hand a bit further to clasp her own, but it didn’t come without some pain. He grumbled in annoyance, but fulfilled her wish anyways. “There…holding it. Happy now?” You couldn’t say that Michael was acting like a gentleman at the moment, more like this was starting to become a very strained relationship. Already, the concern that Michael felt was growing, and to add to that, this girl – Claire was probably going to be a burden to him as he tried to figure out just how to escape from the darkened room.

“I think you’re hurting more than I am…”

“Really? What gave you that idea?” Micheal had been pretty vocal when he tried to sit up and found himself in agonizing pain. Now, SHE wanted to try and sit up. Oh hell no… The very thought of her ear piercing screams was enough to force his hand.

“I’ll try to stand..”

“No..you won’t..” Using what energy he had, the young dark haired Michael spun his waist enough to try and lift Claire off the table, all the while she complained about the fact it was getting harder to breathe. Michael’s legs felt like they were turning to jello beneath them, but he strained as hard as he could as he tried to find an exit.

“There has to be a way out of here..” He coughed.

 

Jsmn:

 

A moment ago, she was actually trying to save their ass until she runs out of breath but then as she knew or well,… men are really unpredictable. “That’s just…” she coughed. “Really…unnecessary…dumb ass!” she complained trying to breath in as little as oxygen as her immune system agreed to. She watched him, but he was fading in the room, almost like blending in the dark. “M-michael?” she called.​

 

Razor:

 

“You’re welcome..”

What else could Michael say, when even in her fights for breathe, she still continued to tell him off. Micheal imagined that in different circumstances, that she would indeed be a real fighter, but right now she was fighting for every breath she could muster. Michael was in a great amount of pain, but he knew that the limited oxygen supply would only dwindle further unless he got himself under some amount of control. Panicking led to an increased heart rate, which in turn would mean that he would be taking greater and more frequent breaths. Blinking, as he tried in desperation to focus, he happened to make out the shape of what had to be some sort of doorway. Could this be their one and only way out. Adjusting his hold on the girl, he took a deep breath – holding it in and then charged at the door with all the might he had. The body slam would probably hurt like Christ, but he had to get them out of the room, and find that much needed fresh air.

On striking the door, the hinges buckled enough to force the door to fall forward – sending Michael and Claire with it.

 

Jsmn:

 

Just as she was about to call on him again, he appeared and before she could react she was already outside the room, or she thinks so feeling a cold breeze but it was just as dark as before. “M-michae..” before she could finish, she felt her hand touching something hard, a body? She didn’t land on something right? “M-M..” she muttered, slowly reaching again for that something she touched earlier, and ended up into what she can tell a face. “No! No!” She kicked, and try to get away without thinking, she just wanted t get away, she’s not sure what that was and as hell, she’s scared as hell now. “Michael!” she yelled.

 

Razor:

 

They had made it out. The force of the impact though was enough to have Michael roll on his back exposing Claire to whatever was outside the door. He could feel the terrible sensation that he had knocked his shoulder right out of his socket. The young man was now going cross eyed from the pain, but just to make matters worse…Claire started to stutter his name. Kind of a barrage of M’s. Like she was now upset to be outside the room. There really was no pleasing this girl. The hallway that they had found themselves in was just as dark as the room they had come from.

“No! No!” Claire started screaming. It was almost blood curdling as she screamed his name this time. “Micheal!”

“WHAT?!”

Michael could feel Claire trying to scoot back from something, and as much as it pained him, he strained his neck to see.

“OH MY GOD!”

Claire was partially lying on a dead body…the face etched in a horrific state. Whoever it was died horribly.

Heart ache – The Kingdom of Pride : PD

 

Following on from “The First Leviathan” – The Kingdom of Pride.

 

Sieg:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
Salem merely raised an eyebrow at the sight of his portal just being destroyed by those demonic flames, not really feeling threatened nor worried about what happend before them. If anything his annoyance only increased enough for him not to feel fear as this intruder decided to speak to Alaric. In the end it was the way he saw this creature, as an intruder, one that demanded but gave nothing than useless shows of force in return for his demands…and if anything, the genie felt like if poison was running through his veins as he heards the words he said…and that tone. But his face masked well the desire he heard to close a portal around his neck if with that he made silence

Brute…coming here and demanding things without even having the proper manners…

If anything the genie’s dark thoughts were fueled by the similarity between this man and one of his past masters, some persian warrior from the past that the genie to this day smiled as he imagined his ultimate fate at the hands of a poor slave who drove a pair of scissors through his neck the moment he tried to pry her legs open. It was something he couldn’t help, the genie did not enjoyed brutes, he despised them with every bit of his soul, and even if this so called Ikki was not one, his actions already gained him the dislike of the ancient creature bound to the Prince of Pride

With no disrespect implied, if a conversation was what you desired we would have been all happy to have given one…but no creature has the right to feel offended by the lack of one, when they display such hostility without justification

Salem seemed to behave like a good servant, being respectful of those in the room even if deep inside he desired to gut this creature and hang it upside down on a boat so the birds made quick works of the remains. But he couldn’t…he needed to keep the appearances and so he did, just stating the facts as again his sands seemed to seeming appeard out of thin air as they both rebuilded the Golden Gate this creature destroyed as he just fixed any structural damage he may have caused using the magic contained in the sands. Afterwards he spoke, still that respectful and collected tone in his voice, as to the eyes of others he may have not seemed the least bit bothered

If a conversation you desire, you will have it, but it will require for you to stop your hostility towards this lands and the Prince himself before anything…and of course, clearly state why of all places your suspicious leaned towards this kingdom, of the many that could have performed the action that caused you to come here seeking answers

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
Kingdom – Pride Castle

The situation was coming to a head. From the words of the intruder, known simply as Ikki – a servant of the Lord of Envy, he was on a fact finding mission, that was to catch the culprit or murder the one that had slain the former head of Envy. The simple destruction of the golden gate the first time, along with further ill words being thrown around were not helping matters at all. Time for talk had come to an end. There was no correlation between whispers that the Pride kingdom had anything to do with Envy and the untimely death of the former Prince. To know the truth, one needed proof. Proof that would not be obtained between the walls of the Pride enclave. While the Prince himself was beyond annoyed by this stand off before him, the genie had chosen to use his tongue once more to bring the stale mate to some sort of conclusion. At the same time, he also engaged in bringing back that same gate that had been destroyed oh so easily. The Naga chose this moment to make his move. The great green eyes of the snake closed tight as the fabulous jewel that rested between its eyes was absorbed into its own skin. With that dissappearing from view, the snake began to morph into a full python. It’s body beginning to turn left – unravelling the massive coils as it created a perimeter around the Genie and the intruder. This ….circle would pass before the Prince of Pride as a method to shield him, whilst at the same time preparing a diversion.

When tail met head, the head of the massive naga reared up and it was then it did something very unusual. The jaw of the snake slackened, allowing the depth of the snake’s throat to be seen. But there was something in the serpent’s mouth now. Right at the back of the throat.

The jewel.

One thing about the Prince was he favored his own reflection, being a proud fellow. This meant that the Throne room itself was dotted with many mirrors and even small cuts of glass that was reflective. The naga chose to harness his environment to do a spectacular feat. A loud and terrible hiss came from the naga as the jewel was activated. The power of the jewel was a brilliant show of light, that rocketed out of the naga’s mouth and bounced off every single mirror in the room. This created a huge criss cross affect of light. Blinding enough to make it difficult to see, and possibly create a reaction from the invader to fall into the newly constructed Golden gate.

https://i0.wp.com/0.s3.envato.com/files/1324942/purple590x300.jpg

~RB~

Kiri:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
https://i0.wp.com/fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/171/7/9/7907bb3cc31c83b6f676438aa697b9c6-d69xarp.png

Ikki had been listening to them speak politely, and he didn’t care that he had offended the Prince of Pride at all, if he had then he wouldn’t have done it in the first place if he had to be utterly honest with you to the full degree; however, he wasn’t surprised that the man’s minion was callous enough to actually assume he had the ability to say Ikki had started the fights. He was defending himself from guards who took it upon themselves to attack him when he was being peaceful at first, and normally he would have exploded from that and snapped back at the male, rose his sword against him and challenged him; but it was obvious that at least one servant of Pride knew how to defuse a situation. Thankfully, Ikki took the hint to that and instead of fighting, he simply covered his eyes and decided to head through the portal as fast as he can… teleporting out of the place as he got the hint.

(TC)

Tory:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/73/95/a9/7395a97e61a6555def1cd348d5f775c7.jpg

Pride castle throne room

The nagas’ light show didn’t come as a surprise to Astaroth, he’d seen it happen before and it just so happened that his eyes weren’t so light sensitive as most others. A convenient trait in situations like these, he didn’t get blinded as easily and usually wasn’t all that surprised by it. He felt the intruder’s presence fade and disappear and shifted to a more peaceful appearance as soon as the man left. A different one from before as he wasn’t all that aware of his shapes and usually forgot if a lot of things happened in between. He usually blamed it on his lack of an appearance.
Is it just me or have I been threatened today by my supposedly faithful servant and then again by some [b]servant of a prince I don’t think I’ve even met in addition to being maybe accused of killing said prince and being a brainless child and a coward?[/b]” he asked as soon as the light dimmed down to what was normal for the throne room. “Because I don’t really understand what just happened.” he sighed.
This incident, though, acted a little like a wake up call. Astaroth needed to know more about what was happening in hell. It wasn’t enough to sit on his throne on this island even if he didn’t get to go anywhere. He might be stuck, but he was the only one. Everyone else who inhabited the island could leave at will and bring information back. He’d have to send out spies of his own. Make a league of spies specially chosen by him for skills that would make them nearly impossible to spot. He’d choose someone to represent him in the other kingdoms if he was ever invited somewhere and take part in everything he possibly could take part in. The best thing he could do, however, was to find a way to break the seal that held him on the island so he himself could travel when he needed to.
Salem, find me a raven.” he smiled at the genie and waited for him to leave before turning to the nagas. “How do you think is best to send a request to the witches? I’m thinking some of them may know about binding angels.” Astaroth did know almost every sigil there was for warding and several ways to seal angels, but he’d never thought he himself would be stuck as he always thought he’d stay in heaven and help others with healing or learning.
I also require to meet the stealthiest of my legionnaires. I think I need to set up a network of spies throughout hell so that I can get information that would otherwise be lost due to my unfortunate living arrangements.” he suggested with a smirk. “I believe I need to participate in this game of power. I have spent too much time on moping, don’t you think?” he shook his head as he walked past the nagas and gestured for him to follow.
I’m sure I have plenty of weapons to share with the soldiers and all of them are good, many even crafted by the angels. I believe holy items work best on demons, don’t they? I will take a few for myself but we can distribute the rest of them and then make sure the armoury is stocked of enough weapons so that every soldier will have at least one.” he walked from the throne room at a brisk pace towards his own private armoury of weapons that would eventually go dull unless he used them, or someone else.
Oh, and don’t forget. I don’t like it when I’m threatened by people around me, especially not when it’s a death threat for when I show weakness. Give only the neccesary information to Orimitsu. He is, after all, only supposed to be my mount.” he had noticed earlier, just chosen not to deal with it. “I do believe the way in which he spoke is not a way one should speak to his master, am I right?” he had always liked the nagas more anyway and now the genie as well even if the male didn’t seem to change his attitude much from neutral, but he clearly had a sense of humour. Something Astaroth appreciated.
He suddenly stopped walking about midway to his room of weapons.
Do you think that even if I’m the only one with this stomach ache, that I should have a doctor come for a visit just to get a second opinion on my health? You know, before we go to the extremes of preparing for an attack that might not even be coming.” he suggested. As an angel with healing powers, it was unlikely that he missed a sickness in his own being. But there was always the slim chance that he did, right? “Yes, I think that might be wise. Although it is highly unlikely that I missed it. Can you send a messenger or do we have one situated here?” he asked and then shook his head in disbelief at his own lack of knowledge for his own troops. He definitely needed to step up his game.

Sieg:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
As soon as Ikki left, the genie physically relaxed quite a bit as he just allowed a rather loud sigh to come out as the Golden Gate just vanished just around the same time that the light being created by Alaric did…only to reveal, surprise surprise, that the genie had called upon a pair of sunglasses to help him deal with the blinding light better, an accessory that if anything made him look strangely hilarious considering the clothing he was wearing at the moment. As to why he didn’t just close his eyes and decided to make a fool out of himself wearing that? Well…in all honesty it was for the Prince sake other than anything, and basicly to mask his own annoyance with how this week had turned out, in the end he didn’t wanted that neither the naga or his master would misunderstand the genie’s stressed eyes

Apparently lately you not the most popular person around Master…but then again you shouldn’t worry about the brute from before…I highly doubt he has the brain capability to find out who the killer is…if anything maybe he is going to try to pull that little number on the rest of the princes until they slap his head off his shoulder

Finally, able to go back to his normal self and calm down his own annoyance from the encounter from before the genie made the sunglasses vanish into smoke as he stood there, rubbing his temples a bit as he looked around at the room, relieved that Ikki decided to stop breaking things and just take his leave before he ended up becoming Alaric’s dinner. Of course his thoughts were interrupted by Astaroth request, which caused the genie to look at him with a raised eyebrow…a little confused about the request

Uhm…as you wish Master…I guess…

He said the small part still a bit confused about the sudden need for a raven of all things,but nevertheless he took off without questioning Astaroth directly, just flying off as his legs seemed suddenly replaced by some sort of very thick golden smoke as he flew across the air, leaving by an open window to seek the bird his master requested…even if he did not really knew why of all times he would need it now. This made him thought about his past masters, and the times when they have requested sudden wishes of this nature

A raven…why of all things would he suddenly have the need for an animal?…uhm…maybe it’s like that girl who…no, absolutely no…he isn’t like that…well…I hope…

Trying to shake a rather disturbing memory off from the time one of his most depraved mistresses asked him for a dog, Salem flew across the island in search for the bird that he quickly spotted standing inside a cage along with others of the same nature . The cage was placed on top of the roof of one of the houses, a place where they kept those trained birds to deliver messages outside the island. It may have sounded weird but ravens basicly were among the few creatures that here in Hell did not called so much attention so they were perfect to use as message birds

There we go…you come with me

Salem opened the cage, taking carefully one of the ravens as he just decided to fly back to the castle, taking a single moment to stare at the island below him and sighing deeply, unable to hold back the envy he felt towards the people below. Even if it sounded hard to believe Astaroth was a great ruler, and the people down there were just as happy as they were free, and many of them were willing to give away their lives for the one inside the throne room there. In a sence he felt the same, but he knew that despite all his power they had something he didn’t…and that thoughts never left him

Someday…one of this days…

Salem made his way back into the throne room as soon as Astaroth and Alaric had finished their conversation, his legs again forming as he stood next to the Prince of Pride as he held out the raven out at his lord, hoping that perhaps his assumption was right and he required it to send a message or something of the sorts. At least the bird was trained and it wouldn’t try to bite off a piece of flesh from their finger, so…at the very least it wasn’t an aggresive bird and it was more or less trained

The bird you requested, hopefully this is the type you were searching for…

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
Pride castle throne room

With the combined efforts of the Naga and the Genie, the disruptive visitor was sent packing through the Golden gate. As soon as the Gate turned back to sand, the Naga closed it’s mouth and the light stopped abruptly. Alaric’s head wobbled from side to side before the jewel reappeared within the Naga’s forehead – the creature now taking on the human like torso once more, but the body was still in the form of a circle that had been used to protect the Prince. it would take a few moments before the Naga was able to shrink back, but in this time he noted that the Genie had managed to find a pair of sunglasses to protect his sensitive eyes. The naga had forgotten about the Genie’s condition, but at the time he needed to create the light to help reinforce the fact that the invader needed to leave the Prince’s castle. The glasses did give the Genie a comical appearance, but as the Prince was still very upset by the events so far of that day, Alaric felt it unwise to try and make “light” of the situation.

Salem was already speaking to the Prince about theories as to why he was now a target of interest by the likes of Envy. Though from Alaric’s understanding, the character with the cocky attitude was in search of facts and no doubt he would be travelling to all kingdoms, not just Pride. You had to remember, there were seven kingdoms in Hell, and as it stood, Astaroth knew very little about his fellow Princes and Princesses. If he was to stay on top of things, he needed to know more of what was happening beyond his walls. His address to the Naga, after sending Salem off hunting for a raven, said as much.

“I believe I need to participate in this game of power. I have spent too much time on moping, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t go as far to call it moping, M’lord. Your hands are bound since you are unable to leave the Kingdom. So naturally, I can see why you might find all this frustrating.” Alaric spoke with a refined air, as he slithered alongside his Lordship. “As for the Witches, they are found in the Lands of Dyre. Led by Lavinia the Elder. As with other kingdoms, a summons could be done by raven, or perhaps you could engage Salem’s magic in order to speak to them another way.” It was not the Naga’s ability to speak telepathically to others on another plane. Every creature has its limitations. All he could do was make suggestions.

Approaching the armory, the Prince wanted clarification on whether holy items could repel demons. “I believe that they would be useful as weapons in the case of a demonic invasion. The question is just how big an invasion force it is. As you have said before, you wish to send out a spy network to judge just who is the biggest threat to your kingdom. We still don’t know who it is that has upset your dreams and your thoughts, M’lord.” As it stood, they knew that Envy was in search of the one that killed the first Leviathan. The hound let off the Prince of Envy’s leash had helped to discount that kingdom. That left the possibility of either, Wrath, Greed, Gluttony, Lust and Sloth being the warmongers.

Something else was still troubling the Prince. The words or threats that came from his Dragon – Orimitsu. The dragon did not like the Prince’s behavior, but in making a death threat over it there was now distrust between the Prince and his mount. Astaroth decreed that the dragon was only to be given limited information in future. The Naga bowed at the Prince’s words.

“As you wish, M’lord.” Alaric didn’t want to have to go into that conversation again, after everything that had happened that day so far. It was time to move forward and get on with the job of ensuring the Prince’s protection from external forces. The fact that the Prince was feeling ill in his stomach however, was something that needed tending to as soon as possible.

“I believe we have one on staff that can treat your ailments, M’lord. Calling someone in from the outside would only delay treatment, and I would rather see you healed and ready to face the challenges ahead.”

The Naga bowed once more, before slithering away in search of the Kingdom’s medical center.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/ea/29/4d/ea294df02b734417d9670b77dc6107d0.jpg

~RB~

Tory:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/73/95/a9/7395a97e61a6555def1cd348d5f775c7.jpg

Pride castle

It’s nice to hear that. Please go fetch him. If this really is nothing but an upset stomach, I don’t think we’ll have to defend ourselves from anything. After all, my predictions aren’t always…” he paused to sigh and roll his head. “Predictable.” he smiled and waved after the naga. He’d attend to the doctor first and then take inventory on holy weapons later. For as long as there was an illness, the possibility of an invasion decreased considerably. At least the horrible outcome of his or his companions’ death. That knowledge would ease his building stress for the moment.
Astaroth was gazing out a window where Alaric had left him when Salem approached. He turned around with a smile and raised his arm so that the bird could hop on top it so that Astaroth could pet it. He always made sure everyone were as sated and comfortable as was possible, even the messenger birds. After all, if his subjects were happy, they were more likely to do his bidding. Even if it was an unreasonable request every now and then.
Thank you, Salem.” he gestured for the genie to follow. “Now, it has just come to my attention that another raven will be needed. Not, however, if you are capable of getting me in touch with a powerful, knowledgable witch that might possibly help me with my confinement problem.” he didn’t know how it could be done, but the genie’s connection to magic might be of help in the matter and was probably what would make it possible for him to connect with users of magic.
The fallen angel was walking towards his study, his private quarters and personal library. He was most at ease in places of knowledge, so he’d prepared a nice corner with comfortable and simple beddings. That way he could be with his books all hours. He, of course, had another room he used on occasion. One that was as lavish as one would imagine a prince’s bedroom to be, but Astaroth wasn’t someone that took pride in expensive surroundings. He enjoyed the beauty of things and the expensive stuff was more often than not far too loaded to be considered beautiful.
Once inside his study, which was a medium sized room just inside the library, he headed immedietly for his desk which was, as per usual, filled with parchment and scrolls on his current research. Currently it was a study of human morals relating to rulers in the human world that participated in conflict between nations. Before he’d tried to study the morals of demons and to find ways to predict them, but had discovered that there were hardly any previous moral codes for demons to follow. He’d given up the project and instead turned to humans, which were a delight to study.
Astaroth tidied up his desk by stacking the parchment and rolling up the scrolls to place in a box. Everything was tightly organised, marked or stamped so that it was easy for him to put it back or pick up where he left from. Each project was labelled by colour and the colour painted in a book with a short summary of the project and a list of every source he used. Older colours often had observations listed as a source. Something that had disappeared from the book after Astaroth was locked up. A reddish black marked the change of the prince’s freedom, the only colour in the book without a summary for the project was not finished and wouldn’t be until he was free from his prosperous prison.
The prince of pride, Astaroth, requires your services at pride castle. Send word about your arrival date and a flag will be provided for your safe passage over the lake.‘ he wrote in fine writing, each letter clear so that the message would be received without problem. He attached the message to the raven and sent it off.
Now, back to witches.” he stood up and rearranged everything as it was before so that he could easily pick up his research whenever he had time. “Would you have any idea who would be best to contact and know of a way to contact them efficiently?” it wasn’t often that Astaroth became serious, however, the situation called for it. Even if he wanted nothing more than to drink a tasty beverage with friends and attend to his garden.

Sieg:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
The genie sighed as he looked at the Prince in silence, truly at times getting puzzled by his behaviour towards the creature of this land. It’s true a monarch should respect his subjects if he did not wanted an uprising against him, in fact this was a lesson he learned well interestingly enough back in France. Would you believe he was part of the french revolution? That he had to disguise like the rest of people there in an attempt to blend in while he also had to perform missions to ensure the revolution would survive? He wasn’t an stranger to that at that point, he wore million of masks, served million of masters and mistresses and fought countless times to preserve their ideals while deep inside he awaited for Death to come claim his owner. It was what scared him now, any genie would claim the same, but Death always came to those who held this type of servants…ever observant…always fair and always there as an old friend of the genie. But for the first time he did not wanted to see it, being face to face again as it was Death that would determine who he would serve next…

Uhm…with the witches you say? Well…while a raven might be proper I pressume there is something that can be done

The genie followed his master, as usual always silent but ever present, looking around for a moment at that library found in this castle. He found it funny, funny to think that the very first moment Astaroth granted him a bit of freedom of movement he secluded himself within this room, hidden, believing the Prince would never visit this place and feeling comfortable among the pages of books. It was strange, his younger self would rarely read a book at all and would prefer to listen to information from other people ears…but ever since the moment he was taken from his home, lost everything…books became really good companions all of the sudden, at least, before meeting the ones here…but…even then at times he wished that he could just be with his loved ones…maybe if- And it was when it hitted him, a way to help his lord communicate with the witches after all

Well…seeking an audience with their elder sounds like the best idea I have right now, as for how to contact them, I do believe in this delicate issue…it would be best to go there in person my lord

His tone of voice sounded amused, as he did not explained how he planned to exactily put him in the place he needed to be considering he was bound to this location. No, in fact he explained nothing as he closed his eyes and focused, his sands making a circle around his feet as he noticed a rather concentration of magic somewhere…somewhere he asumed would hold somebody who could direct Astaroth to the elder witch, or someone who could help him. So the genie, repressing an smirk clasped his hands together, the accesories he wore made a sound at the sudden movement as the sands on command began moving forward, spinning without any apparent control in the air until a figure was formed from them, one that seemed a near clone of Astaroth himself…one that landed before him. It was identical almost in everything, except for the fact that it was fully composed of magically charged golden sands

You cannot leave this inmediate area, yet this does not mean that a golem is not able to be your voice and your ears on the outside…of course it won’t last forever but I believe it will work for your needs my lord

The genie smirked, as usual just finding some sort of loop alongsides the rules of a spell like his kind usually did. It wasn’t something so uncommon, and it was the reason that perhaps so many creatures like witches for example were careful around them…they would fulfill their word, but usually getting their way somehow. It was at this point that on his hands another item formed, what seemed to be a crown he held out towards Pride himself, small and simple, with only a gem on the front as the rest seemed like two golden vines starting on the back and meeting at the gem

The moment you place this on your head, the creature of the sands will be taken to a place known as the Witches Circle and you will be able to speak through it, ear what it ears, and your view will be the same. Through I have to warn you, this place is sacred to those like them who weild the mystic arts, so it will be wise that you introduce yourself properly my lord and seek an audience with their Elder, if we are lucky, they will be cooperative…

He did not mention why he couldn’t go in person, but perhaps the biggest reason was that he wasn’t a normal Djinn, he wasn’t free to use his magic like them, if anything he was a genie, and a defective one for that matter and part of him feel ashamed to meet them directly…or even wrost, be detected by another creature such as himself and being made a fool off for requesting the aid of witches and warlocks. Genies usually requested another sort of help, they held their own councils separatedly from the rest of mystic beings…they had their own rules, their own regulations…but he couldn’t resort to them either even if Astaroth desired it more than anything. He wouldn’t bow to the ones who turned their backs on his time of need, that considered an eternity of slavery a good punishment for a child’s mistake…and neither he would meet the witches directly, but he trusted doing this would be better, in the end, even if it would end up being taxing to maintain this golem remotetly, keep the connection and teleport it altogether…at the very least, he would still intact the little pride he had left

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
Kingdom – Pride Castle

Alaric had left the Prince with his next closest adviser – the genie, to go in search of a medical practitioner within the grounds of Pride Castle. Surely they had a few to call on, as the Prince should have a private physician on staff for such emergencies as this. The only problem was that the Prince had visions, dreams as well as the pain in his stomach. The Naga was no medical man, but he knew that this was not a simple quick fix. Going down into the bowels of the castle, he came across a series of rooms where soldiers and the like were treated for wounds, and battle injuries when they were practicing in the arenas and training pits. As a stretcher was brought in by two hefty looking fellows, and a soldier lay upon it with a sword sticking out of his gut, Alaric knew he was in the right place. With blood spurting out and onto the floor, it was easy for someone to slip. One thing that Alaric noticed was the lack of hygiene and the dated tools of trade that were on the walls. The Spanish inquisition had more modern equipment. In the centre of the next room, a woman wearing a nurses uniform was trying to replace a man’s eyeball with a wooden one. The man was grunting and groaning, thrashing about, as an over sized orderly tried to hold him down.

“Stop ya fidgeting, ya daft git. This will only hurt for a bit.” The squishing sound of her fingers working in the replacement eye was enough to make a man gag. She obviously knew what she was doing, but her bed side manner was lacking. There was no way that the Naga could present this woman to the royal court. She was covered in blood and entrails, her hair swept up into a loose bun, with large bottle like glasses that sat on the end of her nose. Finally the eyeball was firmly fixed in place and the nurse shouted out.

“NEXT!”

“Err….excuse me, Madame. I come from the Prince with a request for relief to his stomach pains.” The Naga was still partially in snake form, but the torso was that of a human. He didn’t mean to scare the woman, but she did give a yelp in surprise and fright.

“HORRIBLE HORNY TOADS!…YOU SLITHERING SCALY SNAKE! FANCY SNEAKING UP ON A POOR WOMAN!” The nurse clapped a hand over her right bosom and with her left hand she reached for her work station. It was not the kind of reaction that the Naga was expecting, but he tried to bite his tongue.

“My apologies if I startled you. I merely seek treatment for the Prince.” Trying to reinforce the reason for interrupting her surgery. The nurse came to her senses when she realized that the Naga worked directly for the Prince himself. She let out a huge expulsion of air before muttering under her breath and going over to her medical cabinet. Taking out bottle after bottle, opening lids, sniffing the ingrediants before starting to make a herbal remedy with the Naga waiting in behind her. The smell wasn’t very nice, but then again neither was the surgery. A few grunts and the occassional sneeze, and the woman then turned around with a bottle of purple coloured liquid.

“A spoon full before each meal, without fail and he should be fit as a fiddle in two days.” The nurse sure of her potion and that it would have the desired affect. Taking the bottle from the nurse, the Naga raised an eyebrow. He had to wonder if there was anything he should know about. Like side effects. He cocked a brow as the nurse set to get ready to work on her next patient. An amputation.

“Any…side effects?’

“A little nausea. Nothing he can’t handle. Now off with you, gotta hack off this boy’s right leg.” The nurse shooed the Naga as she held a huge saw in her hand, the patient letting out a blood curdling scream.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/3c/0b/f4/3c0bf49353b3f8678890a688422bca8a.jpg

“Oh shut up, ya sissy!”

~RB~

Tory:

Re: [RP] Kingdom – Pride Castle
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/73/95/a9/7395a97e61a6555def1cd348d5f775c7.jpg

Pride castle, Astaroth’s study

Astaroth furrowed his eyebrows in dislike at the sands in his study, he didn’t trust anyone to clean in there other than himself and would hate to have to sweep the room to rid it of leftover grains of Salem’s golden sands. However, as the golem began to rise and take a form that Astaroth assumed was his own at the moment, his frown turned into a smile that he turned towards the genie.
That is magnificent.” he was astonished, as was shown when he walked around the thing and examined almost every grain on it’s surface. “I sure hope it works.” he wasn’t certain it would as Astaroth’s binding spell was quite potent. Although, on that thought, he could meditate and look at people beyond the barrier. Perhaps he would be able to let his consciousness travel with the golem as he could whenever he looked at the past.
The moment I…” he trailed off as he lifted the crown from Salem’s hands and examined it. It was quite beautiful. “I must ask you to guide the goldsmiths along whenever I’ll need a crown, this one is quite beautiful.” he smiled at his friend and lifted the crown to his head before he stopped and lowered his arms.
I must warn you. I do believe that when my consciousness disappears with this golem of yours, my body will most likely turn to that blank nothingness like sometimes happens when I sleep, right? So, as I’ve said numerous times before, please don’t move me or look at me too much. Sight is a little bit tricky to bring back.” he was of course referring to the blank whiteness that was his real, but not so much, appearance. The appearance of someone without one. It was a matter that easily confused people. Much to Astaroth’s annoyance, although sometimes amusement.
The white was bright enough to blind, much like Alaric’s light show earlier, only focused to one spot and constantly moving and changing due to the lack of a definite form. If he were in heaven without a form, it would hardly matter, but he had discovered that demons and others than angels were sometimes weak to this particular kind of light and thus sometimes turned out blind. In the worst cases, their eyes burned. Astaroth liked neither outcome. Eyes were tricky to make and fix. So many details one had to look out for.
Now, I best get going. Do make sure no one gets in, will you?” he asked kindly before putting the crown on. It didn’t seem to work right away and Astaroth was about to speak when a searing pain passed through his head as his consciousness when his mind tried to break through the barrier. Apparently his actual mind passing through in a golem was not allowed. He let out a shrill scream and immedietly gripped his head tightly. And then he was gone. As was obvious when his body collapsed to the ground and his clothes and golden locks faded to white, wings protruded from his back and everything started flickering and moving. What was lying on the floor was a hint of a winger humanoid form. Looking at it for one millisecond would maybe show a fat angel and the next it would be a childlike winged form. Never the same, never any details, only hints. Remnants and never the ones of his real appearance.

[Astaroth, thread change]

 

A Bad Batch – Hell’s Kitchen : PD

 

 

Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Kiri:
https://razorbackwriteraus.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/22eb0-vanhelsingfoto.jpg

The male did indeed grab and pick up the doctor without a moment of hesitation, lifting him as a cat might its kitten, or a bitch would its pup, however, instead of lifting the man by the scruff of his neck the hunter tossed him over his shoulder. The fear of the hunchback was so palpable to the lycan it was stifling, he could smell it with ease and it set his predatory instincts ablaze, however, he suppressed those urges before following the creature; with the hunchback leading the way the hunter followed him quickly and efficiently, seemingly unaffected by the weight that was lying upon his shoulders. As soon as the smaller man had prepared the table he set the Doctor onto the table, he already had on a pair of leather gloves and his mask was still pulled up tight, so there was no need for the mask and gloves to be given to him; and as the creature started the transfusion and asked his question, the male looked at him with clear eyes as he answered with honesty.

“My name is Dragomir Constantin, a Hunter, nothing more and nothing less.”

Fu:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
May 09, 2015 10:24PM
https://i1.wp.com/i58.tinypic.com/24n0kr4.jpg

Hiei : ” Seems like the front door is wide open , seems like I won’t need to bother with knocking on the door. ”

– Hiei would say to himself with a cigarette in his hand , taking a few steps forward into the building with his right hand in his pocket and a odd curiosity about him . The door was open, but this was odd ; nobody would just leave their door open in hell of all places . It was too dangerous for that ; given the community being anything but merciful. The Embassy Housekeep would run into the building’s main entrance to find himself in the entry room and there he would look on to find any form of life , but it would seem as if someone was here not long ago and within that moment Hiei faded into the shadows in the room to go search for signs of life ; seeing that none were here , he made himself move to another room and would continue doing so until he found life . There was flickering lights and Hiei would take small steps forward to announce his presence if the smoke didn’t already do that for the others in the room and would speak after a few tiny moments of silence that came after his entering of the area. –

Hiei : ” Anyone hear know where The Doctor is ? ”

Razorbackwriter:

Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.

For a moment, there was only the echo of the undead army deep beneath the laboratory that could be heard aside from the slow beeping of a heart monitor that the hunchback assistant had fitted to his ill fated Master. Igor worked diligently in an effort to stabilize the Doctor, while the masked man in the big black hat only stared on. He has announced himself as Dragomir Constantin, a Hunter. A hunter who was also a hired killer. Least that is what Igor thought after he witnessed Narcissa being thrown to her death. Such a terrible fate, and one that he wished on no one. It brought the hunchback such terrible sadness, to lose both Loc and Narcissa this way but his main concern now was not to lose the Doctor along with them. There had been enough death and tragedy, and half of the hunchback’s mind was thinking that perhaps this was some sort of backlash….karma, you could say. Either way, the hunchback had given the Doctor the wrong batches of blood, and it would be a while before he realized just what he had done. He kept focusing on the Doctor’s face, and of course the heart monitor.

What threw him off of his work, aside from being nervous in the company of Dragomir was the sound of a new voice calling out from the hall.

” Anyone hear know where The Doctor is ? ”

A patient? NOW?! This was the worst possible timing, and Igor was almost too afraid to leave the unconscious Doctor with the Hunter. Igor muttered and wrung his hands together. His eyes glazing over as the weight of responsibility for all this was falling on his uneven shoulders. Fussing, he quickly got a sheet to cover over much of the Doctor and tried to hide his crumpling face.

“I…need to deal with the person outside.” Igor shuffled out and then saw the well dressed Hiei who seemed to materialize out of the shadows. On seeing him, the hunchback bowed ever slightly, before he heard another loud chorus of roars and moans from below.

“Sir….the Doctor is…”

Inside the emergency station, the Doctor’s eyelids fluttered and then sprang open as the heart monitor started to race. It had gone from slow, to abnormally fast within a matter of seconds. There was a look of panic on the Doctor’s face and he stared down to see the blood transfusion needle that was still in his arm. As his eyes tried to focus up on the blood bag, though hazy at first, he soon made out his own coding stickers and let out a god awful cry…..

“Nooooooo! What have you done to meeeee?!” Panicking, he tried to rip out the blood needle with shaking hands, and turned his head to see the Hunter standing there with the mask covering his face. “You need to get out…..you need to get out and shut the door….Lock me in here!……FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!…..GET OUT!”

Hearing the Doctor’s screams and loud calls from the emergency station, Igor flew into a panic. What the hell had he done? He thought he had given him the life saving blood, but mistakenly given him the blood from his X experiment. Igor ran to the door and then with the lights going on full, he saw the blood bag as the Doctor started to change….he was growing into something large…..something VERY LARGE….and GREEN!

https://i1.wp.com/stream1.gifsoup.com/view5/2086944/hulk-transform-o.gif

“DRAGOMIR…..RUN!!”

~RB~

Kiri:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Dragomir listened quietly and watched on without a word as there was no real reason for him to speak or do anything at the moment, for it there was he would be doing it at this moment and would without hesitation, however, he had come for his target and had completed what he was supposed to do; so why was he here right now? Because of one simple fact, Dragomir was always a softie when people actually needed help in a dire situation, he couldn’t help it; when someone was in trouble he felt that he had to help them then and there and if he didn’t then he felt as though he was betraying himself. And his old purpose in life as a hunter of the races who hunted humans.

As Dragomir stood there silently, the man quietly thought to himself even as the hunchback walked outside to deal with the patient who had arrived to meet with the doctor; this fact didn’t bother him, but even as he went outside to do so the doctor was found to be waking up. With the doctor freaking out, and with the fact he was transforming, the Lycan had gone on edge to the maximum level and his eyes had turned golden before he spun on his heel at the sound of the hunchback yelling to him to run. The hunter was debating, but he shook that out and sprinted through the door in a blur, moving at an inhuman speed as he waited for the hunchback to exit and then slammed the door shut, throwing all of his strength into holding it closed while also locking it as a precautionary measure. What happened? Time would have to tell him.

Fu:

Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
https://i2.wp.com/i60.tinypic.com/30m93lk.jpg

Hiei : ” The Doctor is what? ”

– The Housekeep would say as he had been told that the Doctor was in some sort of situation ; one that wasn’t clear as the person speaking to him was cut off from finishing. A scream was audible enough to echo out into the room Hiei was in ; and from there he would assume someone was either in pain or panicking in the next room over . Due to Hiei’s mentality he was one to not care too much for others unless they were of great concern to him , so he didn’t react like any other person would unless he had a connection to the person or something else that’ll help formulate a good enough reasoning to be concerned. He would speak to Igor and say –

Hiei : ” Can you bring him ou- ”

– As he finished speaking he would see that the man had left the space in front of him as he went to tend to the situation that was occuring in the other room ; it would seem as if he may end up getting involved in the predicament whether or not he had wanted to . Clearly this situation has escalated far worse then he had expected. –

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.

For the three men that were now standing outside the emergency station, they would find themselves facing an unknown foe. With Dragomir using his brute strength to hold the door, the hunchback was frantic at the thought that the toxic batch of blood could turn the Doctor into the very thing he feared most of all. The blood was being tested, yes. But not on humans. The Doctor realized the danger the moment he was able to see clear enough to read the label on the blood bag, and his instinct to protect his visitors and employee came to the fore. The only problem was, the Doctor was now losing the battle for control.

In the emergency station, Wilhelm’s body shook and quivered violently as the table that he was laying upon was now buckling beneath him. The reason for this was that his bone mass was becoming denser as it grew. You could see the change as he grew larger. The pain that he was now experiencing was beyond anything a normal human being could cope with. Skin stretching to the limit. His head swelling and as he thrashed wildly, Wilhelm reached out with a hand that started to turn inward with the fingers being drawn in to form a large fist. The blood vessels upon his neck swelled and pumped the toxic blood with a renewed fury. Wilhelm blinked at the light, as his pupils turned a sickening green colour. Practically toxic.

https://i0.wp.com/www.amoeba.com/admin/uploads/blog/Charles/hulk-eye-norton.jpg

His body was twisting and jerking as he grew larger and larger. The screams were getting deeper to the point he no longer sounded like the Doctor at all….but like a grotesque monster. The kind that haunt your dreams and send you screaming into the night. Igor, who was in the foyer was practically tearing his hair out. The guilt that he felt after giving the doctor the wrong batch of blood in an effort to save him, had gone so tragically wrong. He couldn’t lose another tonight. Loc….Narcissa. it was too much to bare.

“It’s all my fault.” The hunchback cried out, ready to fall to his knees and let the creature that was now the Doctor take him down. That was of course till he heard a terrible grating sound. Metal twisting and tearing far below. As if in slow motion, the hunchback’s head turned towards the lift.

“OH MY GOD!”

The undead army. Some of them were now trying to access the lift well and climb up to the surface…to where Dragomir and Hiei were standing.

“OH NO!….THEY’RE COMING UP!” Sure enough a group of about ten were starting to claw their way up the inside of the elevator shaft and then you could hear the sound of machinery being smashed to pieces in the emergency station. How on earth were they to fight off the likes of the start of the undead army and then have the green giant come at them from the emergency station?

~SLAM! SLAM!~ Large fist prints were now being punched against the inside of the doors to the emergency station with the enraged giant Wilhelm trying to break through. Would Dragomir be able to hold the Doctor back…..or would the undead soldiers reach them first?

Suddenly, Igor had an idea. It was the only way to possibly stop the soldiers. The first claws of the beasts from below were now seen trying to get a hold at the foyer level….a head popping up and the face was riddled with scars and stitching. Black eyes stared at the trio that were standing just outside the emergency station doors.

“DRAGOMIR….LET HIM OUT!”

https://i2.wp.com/s3.amazonaws.com/rapgenius/tumblr_m4mhpa9pLp1r8ybi3o1_500.gif

~RB~

Kiri:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Dragomir was throwing everything into holding the beast that the Doctor had become in this room, he wasn’t invincible, and whoever/whatever the Doctor had become, Dragomir was no where near on the same level of strength; with every impact on the door, Dragomir was pushed a little harder from it, making him jerk with every impact as he struggled against it to keep it from escaping the emergency station till things decided to go from bad to worse. The undead beasts that the doctor had awakened were now crawling up the vent and with the doctor going berserk on the door it was only ruining his mood before he decided on one thing, first off: Dragomir leaned every ounce of his weight against the door as he pulled Vrangr from its holster and flipped the switch to set it on light. The little tubes along the barrel immediately began to fill up as light was absorbed into the gun, and as soon as it was fully charged the gun was ready to go for as many shots as he wanted to dish out, the difference was this: there were two triggers, one held to absorb light and keep the gun loaded, while the other was used to fire. The first trigger was a small button which he had to press down on with barely a grip, but the button would reset itself after so many shots. Which means he had to press it again every once in a while.

As soon as the undead popped their ugly little heads up Dragomir let loose, firing off bursts of light which exploded on contact, knocking some right back down the shoot until the hunchback yelled for him to let the Doctor out. Was that wise? Well… they had no choice, and so Dragomir jumped back, grasping the hunchback’s shirt to pull him with him and avoid the Doctor who was about to erupt from the room…

Fu;

Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
https://i2.wp.com/i60.tinypic.com/2q9yihg.gif

Hiei:” What the hell is going on ? ”

– Hiei said to himself as he went by unacknowledged after being abandoned ; he wanted to get going immediately but it seemed fate had other plans . He was to get the Doctor and get back , but he grew impatient of waiting and knowing fully well that he had to hurry on back to the Embassy due to the fact he was also in charge of maintaining the household , he was known to be on his feet 24/7 and this was no exception . Fast-paced was all he knew , but this . This ……. just no , he ended up turning into a shadow so he could cover ground more quickly and see what was going on . Hiei found himself in the same room as Igor once more along with those he was with , spotting fighting going on he was only able to be certain of the fact they needed to supress the beings that were coming out of the shaft ; otherwise they’ll more then likely kill off the people Hiei was sent here to get and that would put alot of problems on the plate of the House Manager and further extend his duty on finding another Doctor if there ever was one . The House Manager sprung forth with tiny tendrils of condensed shadow formed stringed laced with his energy that he would used to sever their heads if they ever continued to spring forth , however due to the angle and the space he wasn’t able to get too many , as he needed more space to swing but being in that space made it difficult.

https://i1.wp.com/i62.tinypic.com/2ynqq2c.jpg

Hiei:” This may prove difficult in this positioning…”

Razorbackwriter:

Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.

Igor screamed in terror and surprise when he was yanked back by his collar clear out of the way of what would be the rampaging doctor in his grotesque giant form. Skidding in behind the hunter, he tried to scramble to his own feet to see just what the doctor had become. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that the Doctor would become just like the monsters he created. With Hiei changing to his shadow form and then moving just clear, the doors burst open in a fit of rage and fury. The Green giant was wearing the remnants of torn clothing that belonged to the doctor. All way too small and nothing but shreds of fabric. Wilhelm’s stance was like that of a silver backed gorilla in full charge. A frightening sight if ever there was one. His head turning left and right as though he was looking for something or someone specific. It was then it caught sight of the rise of the undead soldiers, who were being shot at by Dragomir as they breeched the top of the elevator shaft. Heads being blown off, limbs flying in all directions with sprays of greenish brown blood. The smell was vile and the more that got hit, the more that appeared. Like a wound that was now split open and maggots crawling out into the light. Hiei was doing everything he could, to stop the rising menace from below, but his position meant that the going ahead was difficult. That was until the beast like Doctor suddenly realized something….Narcissa was missing. He had failed to see her in the foyer, or the emergency station. There was no remains of her in the lift itself which was positioned high enough for him to see and still the opening where the undead were crawling through. Roaring with fury, he powered over to the shaft and then started to smash at the heads of the upcoming wildly. The sickening thuds and crushing sound of bone and skull the result of his frenzied attack. Not satisfied, the Doctor leapt down into the shaft – bounding off the sides as he went and taking out more of the undead soldiers till he reached the bottom with a god awful thud. The rise of ash, bone and concrete filled the shaft well and down there…where many more of the soldiers were preparing to make their rise to the surface, was the mangled body of Narcissa.

https://i2.wp.com/www.9e3k.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/Hulk-vs-Loki-02.gif

The hulking doctor stared at her dead body in horror. His beautiful creation….his lasting memory of Missy….was dead. An abundance of emotions filled him to the brim. Grief, sadness, anger, rage, sorrow, loss. He couldn’t take it again….he just couldn’t. To the left of Narcissa’s body was that of Loc, his other creation. A pained and pathetic howl came from the beast as in the foreground, the undead army suddenly came to a stop. Something in his voice….something linked them all as one. The hulking Doctor knelt down and scooped up what was left of Narcissa and rocked back and forth…..all his dreams had died…with her. At that moment, the Doctor started to change back to the way he used to be….nothing more than a simple man – who knelt before the army of his creation…his blood.

~RB~

Kiri:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
https://i1.wp.com/www.poster.net/van-helsing/van-helsing-photo-xl-van-helsing-6228861.jpg

When the new arrival decided to get involved it was definitely a welcome assistance to the hunter, who was still blasting away at the undead army, intent on destroying as many as possible to keep them from getting up there and on their own two feet before the doctor erupted from the doors with a roar; charging the undead army without hesitation it was obvious that the man no longer had any cognitive thought and was driven by pure rage at the moment as he smashed away at the army. Dragomir honestly wasn’t prepared for such ferocity, but it didn’t faze him as he continued shooting, blasting away continuously while the Doctor hurled himself down the shoot, till he landed down at the bottom with a bang and the undead army not stopping; but… then it was just… over, everything had stopped, it had ended; without warning the army stopped at the scream of the doctor. That howl was filled with sadness, so Dragomir had to assume that he saw the mangled body of Narcissa, the very girl that Dragomir had killed himself. How would things turn out from here?

Fu:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
https://i2.wp.com/i60.tinypic.com/2q9yihg.gif

Hiei:” Seems like most of them have stopped coming for now. ”

– Was what the Man said as he saw the Giant Man leap down the shaft , his action halted the movement of the Army as a whole through that one movement . One that was not wasted one bit , however he would not hear any more noises coming through the shaft ; as if something happened upon arriving at the bottom . Did something occur to the male as he arrived at his destination ? Hiei’s eyes stayed at the shaft with his tendrils ready , he was not going to let anything that should’nt rise get a chance at doing so. He took a small puff from his cig and looked around –

Hiei:” So anyone mind telling me which one of you is the Doctor ? ”

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Hell’s Kitchen

~When Good becomes Evil~

A simple man now stood before a massive army of corruption and chaos. A simple man who was now two beings. One…a genius, a good man….a man of science. The other…a monster. A beast that was created from the worst of emotions. Everything that hate and anger could generate. No one else could possible understand that the very spirit of the Doctor’s goodness was tied to the memory of his beloved Missy, and the beings that he had created after her death. Loc…Narcissa. It was all gone. Oh the Dark one had his deal. He got the Doctor to bend to his evil schemes because the good man had been honorable. He stuck to this deal

But now…as he stood with the last of his goodness laying at his feet all he could see before him was the power that he had created out of the most evil of plots, the good Doctor was no more. Wearing but torn remnants of his suit and lab coat, he continued to stare out at the now silent army of the undead. The very creatures he had awakened with his blood. The connection between him and his creations was now sealed. It took him to near death, but his fate along with all the creatures that stood before him now was in his control.

All bets were off. The deal was done. Evil….had a new face.

The Creator had become his own Creation. No one in Hell…no King, no Prince; not even the Dark One could have foretold this. The Doctor’s face showed calm, but his eyes…..God, such hatred….such pain….nothing and no one could save him now.

Turning to face the control panel of the lift, the Doctor flipped the control pad and started to mess with the wires beneath. Working them in a new way before snapping the lid back on and pressing in the code. Upstairs, the lift shunted back into the normal place and the doors opened for Igor and the two that had happened along at the wrong time.

Igor was frightened. The quiet down in the lab was eerie and he could feel it in his waters, that although the Doctor had stopped wailing and the army had fallen silent; that it was not over. Still, he was an employee of Hell’s kitchen and his place was at the Doctor’s side. No matter what. Looking at Hiei, he swallowed and said. “The Doctor is down in Cardis tomb.” He didn’t actually come out and say that the green beast that broke free out of the emergency station was the actual doctor. Hiei might not believe him. Igor motioned for the hunter and the guest from the Embassy to enter the lift. Once in, he would press the down button and the lift would begin to move. When they arrived…and the doors opened, the Doctor would be waiting. He’d have found a new lab coat, and bare a strange smile that was disarming.

“Sorry about the mess. Minor mishap. Please, how can we help you?” His voice was calm, and in behind the army had already started to clean up the mess that they had made, without even being instructed. Igor would be first to ask.

“Doctor….are you alright?” Maybe the Doctor had lost his mind completely. The switch was too great. From the crazed giant to this…visage of calm.

https://i1.wp.com/fandomania.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/08/oncefrankenstein2.jpg

“Never better….Igor….Never…better.”

~RB~

Fu:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Cardis Tomb

– The event came and went swiftly ; but it felt alittle bit odd for it to have finished so abruptly like it did . But despite it ; both Dragomir and Hiei had left their stances with dealing the threats as it came . With that done , they were told to get on the lift to go downwards . Of course Dragomir and Hiei would follow as prompted into the lift and down below , revealing the inner sections of the facility and before them the doctor appeared once the lift reached its end . Hiei walked forward first with Dragomir walking slowly behind , as if watching the place for any signs of danger ; he didn’t let his guard down too easily after the event that just happened and it was clear he felt alittle on edge still due to it . Hiei spoke first , placing both of his hands behind his back as he spoke to the Doctor –

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Hiei : ” I came here to request your medical knowledge ; Nicholas of the Embassy is fallen ill and we need your assistance. If it isn’t too much to ask that is . However I can wait if you need to clean up the area if need be , there was quite a few mishaps as I saw a moment ago but I’ll try to act as if I didn’t see anything . ”

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP]Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.
Hell’s Kitchen – The Lab.

With all that had gone on right before Hiei and Dragomir entered the ravaged and bloody Cardis Tomb, you would expect the doctor to be showing some signs of distress, but the Doctor appeared totally normal. In fact it was this cheeriness that was practically chilling to watch. Igor sensed it right away, that the Doctor’s behavior did not match the man earlier. The green monster that he had become in the Emergency station was now locked back inside it’s cage, for now.

Igor was not happy with the Doctor’s words, but he was nothing more than a lowly servant and really had no right to question the Doctor. If only he had been brave enough to try. With the guests however, and the rumble of the undead army setting everything back as it should be, he could only stand by as an observer till asked to get back to work.

The Doctor smiled at the staffer from the Embassy, who used good tact to explain why he was there. Having been sent to request medical knowledge to assist a man by the name of Nicholas, who had fallen ill.

“I can wait if you need to clean up the area if need be , there was quite a few mishaps as I saw a moment ago but I’ll try to act as if I didn’t see anything . ”

“A few, but nothing that can’t be put right.” The Doctor offered, taking down a medical bag, and opening it as he prepared to join the young man on his return to the Embassy.

“Igor, if you would assist our other guest with whatever he needs, I shall make a trip over to the Embassy. I am not one for withholding treatment from one of such importance as a member of the Ambassador’s staff.” Picking out certain gleaming tools, he set them into the medical bag, then closed it with a loud click. Just in behind him were the bodies of Loc and Narcissa – yet to be disposed of or harvested for parts.

“Oh and Igor…clean up this little mess if you would. Thank you.” He gave a little wave of the hand, before changing his coat and putting on a smart black hat.

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The Doctor picked up his bag and gestured for the gentleman from the Embassy to lead the way.

“After you, good Sir. I have a vehicle just outside the front entrance.”

As he passed a table, the Doctor picked up a small box with a slight of hand and put it into his coat pocket.

~RB~

(TC – Embassy – Doctor)

 

Time stops – Hell’s Kitchen : SS

~They say that when you meet the love of your life, time stops – and that’s true.~

iMoo

Narcissa was more or less lost on everything that had just taken place. She resorted to standing idly by, silent as everything was handled by the Doctor alone. More or less, anyway. Everyone had parted on their own without her having to see them out, or ensure that no detours were made. She would simply look after them each time they went, eyes following them curiously before they turned back to Wilhelm. The room was silent again without anyone left to make demands to the man. Narcissa, who had began to look dull, perked up enough that light seemed to flash back in her eyes and the corners of her lips turned up slightly. This was the face best worn for the others in Hell’s Kitchen. It didn’t last long though. The sound of the lift having been silenced in the distance, it was only when the frankensteinian girl began walking toward Wilhelm that he staggered and clutched a work bench. “Doctor?” Her smile faltered while she slowed midstep, reaching out as though to help steady him from where she stood. Everything…I did, I did for love. Narcissa didn’t know what the Doctor meant as he continued speaking, but the tone of his voice and his expression concerned even her. The girl’s usually smiling face was now sporting a frown. The tear that rolled down his cheek as he looked at her caused her to freeze further; this was not the Wilhelm she knew. But she understood he had deeper feelings than happiness, like everyone in Hell’s Kitchen. Narcissa would stare back at him as he stood before her and patted her shoulder. “Wilhelm…” The monster never said the Doctor’s name. Not ever. She did now, but without knowing what she wanted to say to him.

Not that it would matter in the end. She looked in the direction that he turned, and as he walked away to a control panel. From here the monster took a step toward him and stopped again, as though she was unsure what to do in their current situation. Narcissa was obviously confused to what situation was being brought up, but she had a gut feeling that it was bad. Was Wilhelm in the right state of mind? Had the deal he just made meant something bad for him? Something bad for Hell’s Kitchen? She had barely heard his whisper before the sirens started blaring around the pair, red lights flashing over the originally green lit room. There was no answer for that question, as she couldn’t begin to guess what his secret might have been. Even remembering the short moment from the previous night while he helped her pick out a mask, she could come up with nothing. Her mind wouldn’t delve that deep while she recognized that the Doctor was in low spirits now and saying weird things. “Doctor, I don’t…” Narcissa’s eyes dragged away from him, shooting toward the lift when she heard the hunchback scream for him. His continuous calling only frightened her before she looked back to see Wilhelm swaying on his stool. He would kill himself with blood loss… But why wasn’t she moving to remove the IV needle from his arm? “Doctor, please!” She clutched onto her white coat nervously, looking deeply concerned for him. It felt like her feet were stuck to the ground. She could always reach the lift and attempt to get out, but she didn’t know the code either. What did that mean for her? Narcissa looked to the insulators that were bubbling; the first one finally broke and something hideous fell out. One of the Doctor’s creations, no doubt. Was there any hope to control these things? For her? She tried to pay no mind to the way it roared at her, baring its terrible fangs. Normally, she wouldn’t be bothered by this sort of thing, but she was always in company of the good Doctor and the rest of the team. Now she was alone, and Wilhelm seemed crazed…at least compared to his normal personality and ideas. But the set up here was planned; this had been his way to bring his army to life, so he was thinking clearly. “Doctor!” she cried out, despite the heaps of goopy bodies falling to the ground around the tomb. Narcissa had to lunge forward to catch him before he hit the ground, sobbing. Her cries were dry, as her tear ducts didn’t work. “Don’t be dead! I like you alive!” She pulled the IV needle form his arm at long last, if the fall hadn’t done so for her, and she stood up to look at the standing undead, shoulders shaking as she clutched onto Wilhelm with the hope that he was only unconscious. Narcissa would begin to back away toward the lift, one hand reaching for her rod that she kept tucked in her coat pocket while she propped the Doctor against her shoulder.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

Hell’s Kitchen – Cardis Tomb

~They say that when you meet the love of your life, time stops – and that’s true.~

The scene in Cardis tomb was now apocalyptic. Blasts of electrical energy, sparks pouring out of so many machines, the bright flashing of warning lamps that signaled the great danger that had been unleashed by the actions of the Doctor. One by one, the vast army was collapsing out from the insulated bubbles that had kept them suspended for near to ten years. It was the sight of nightmares, one of the scariest things imaginable. In the middle of all this, a terrified and confused Narcissa was struggling to save the doctor, who had collapsed due to sheer blood loss. The secret ingredient to the Doctor’s masterpiece….his own blood. Pale, and barely able to keep his eyelids from closing his figure was limp against the female monster. But while his body seemed to have all but given up on life, in his mind’s eye…..he could see….her.

The scene was all black and white. That same street where they last saw each other. The night that Wilhelm was to give her his ring. There was no cars, no other people. Just Missy standing on the other side of the road. God, she looked beautiful. Wilhelm looked down and saw he was wearing his usual lab gear however. Was this what death was like?

“Wilhelm!” She cried out, almost shocked to see him in this place. Was it the afterlife? It certainly wasn’t hell, but it wasn’t heaven either.

“Missy?” Wilhelm started to run across the road and Missy did the same, till they both reached the center and hugged each other. Missy was crying as she kept stroking Wilhelm’s head. The world was all but frozen, as though they were the only people left. Wilhelm hugged her as if his very life depended upon it. Missy put her hands to cup his cheeks and kissed him repeatedly, though now both were crying. It had been so long. For all the horrible things that the Doctor had done in trying to keep her alive, he had never again seen her spirit, till now.

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Breaking the kiss, they stared at each other. Lost in each other’s eyes and this very moment. “I’ve been with you all along, Wil. I saw what the Dark one did. He tricked you. Of all the ones you could never bring back, it was me.”

“Why….why couldn’t you come back to me?’ He blubbered, fighting to get the question out. The one that had plagued him for so long.

“Someone had to be your angel, Wil”

It was then that it all started to make sense. Doing a deal with a devil like Shamus brought only a cruel and sick joke in the form of what he thought was his beloved Missy. The Dark One wanted the Doctor all along. To be the creator of the army that would ruin the balance of Hell once and for all. Dangling the carrot that he could have his love back. Missy brought up Wilhem’s fingers to her lips and kissed them.

“But now….now we can be together.”

Wilhelm started to smile as his eyes shined with tears. it was what he wanted…what he wanted all along. Just to be with her.

Just then a hollow sounding voice rang out through the empty street.

“Doctor!”

Both the Doctor and Missy turned – their faces hit by a strong wind that was the world starting up again. Time had stopped, this was true…but on the other side, the female monster was in great danger.

“Don’t be dead! I like you alive!”

Her panicked screams were now growing louder, as the force of wind was turning into that same storm that fell the night that Missy died. It was like he was about to watch a repeat of history.

“NO!” The Doctor was torn from Missy’s hands and was now seated in the restaurant, the ring box in his hand. Missy was back on the other side of the street, about to cross the road. The look of horror on Wilhelm’s face was apparent, as the street filled again with cars and people. Wilhelm shot up out of his chair and smashed his fists against the glass window of the restaurant as Missy stepped out onto the road……

The tomb was now alive with the roars and sound of the undead army finally awakening. It was led by the first of the creatures to break out from its insulated bubble of goo. Wilhelm’s fingers twitched slightly, as he placed it into his pocket, only to pull out a key card that fit into the slot under the lift control panel. If Narcissa could get the card into the slot before the monsters attacked, it would activate the lift – which would open on the top floor to allow Loc and Igor to enter and come to their rescue.

 

~RB~

 

IMoo

With all the sparks and electricity being unleashed from the machines around the room, Narcissa jumped back toward the wall leading to the lift. Her body was highly conductive; metal everywhere, even on her lab coat. She frantically looked from the electricity to the Doctor in her arms. There was no choice to pull out her weapon while holding him as well; she merely backed toward the lift further while the undead continued to drop onto the floor one by one. Taking a moment to look at his face, the girl could at least see that his eyes weren’t completely closed. They seemed to be fluttering; it was a sign. Her calls were continued until she noticed his fingers twitching. She would give another dry sob, looking relieved and somehow still panicked. “Wilhelm, you’re alive!” she called, rejoicing. His hand was dipping into his pocket, pulling out a key card. Narcissa’s eyes widened slightly before she grabbed it from him quickly and held onto him tighter. Looking up in time for one of the undead to lunge toward her with a massive growling roar. She jumped back, using her enhanced movements to increase the distance until she was next to the lift. The key card was pushed into place. The lift wouldn’t be on her floor, sadly…due to the leaving of the prince and his allies… Now Narcissa would have to wait, holding the Doctor tightly while keeping an eye on the undead not far off from them. “IGOR! HURRY!” she screamed, ensuring they heard her above. The girl was shaking, despite everything she had done…and was doing…for the sake of the Doctor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

Hell’s Kitchen – The Laboratory

Up in the foyer, the lights were flickering on and off as the power systems were taking a beating. Down below the harrowing screams and vicious sound of the awakened army was the very thing of nightmares. Igor was still beating on the doors when all of a sudden with a loud whoosh they opened as though by magic. Igor fell forward and landed on the interior of the lift with a splat, and down through the elevator sharft you could hear Narcissa scream for him to hurry. The hunchback had to scramble to get to his feet and could see Loc just outside the lift, his hands pressed to his ears as he continued to scream in protest to the noise below.

“LOC!…LOC! Get your arse in here. They need us!”

The creation was like an over sized child. Terrified of what was happening and not paying the hunchback any attention. His eyes were practically bulging out of his sockets, and the screams he made grew louder. There was no time for this. Each second that they lost meant that the Doctor and Narcissa would not be able to make it out of Cardis Tomb alive. The hunchback having no idea what the Doctor had done, or if he or Narcissa were injured.

“LOC! THEY NEED US NOW!” Never before had the hunchback shown such courage under the circumstances. But thankfully, the words he just yelled struck a cord within the massive creature. Even though he himself was terrified, he ambled into the lift, and this was when Igor slammed his hand on the close button. The lift now rocketing down to the special tomb, where all hell had truly broken loose.

Down in the tomb itself, the leader of the undead army was roaring at Narcissa who was doing everything she possibly could to get out of the monster’s reach. The sparks of electricity in behind him were now raining down from above. The smell of burning flesh was stifling to the senses. Being held tightly by the female creation, the Doctor groaned and tried to mumble something, but it was incoherent due to the loud noises of all the creatures breaking free of their cocooned shells. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The injection of his blood was to be done under controlled conditions. The fact that he did what he did, by practically giving all his blood in one go was a death wish. The reaction by the many creatures was a shocking catalyst. With barely enough energy to open his eyes, the Doctor reached out with his right hand towards the leader of his army.

~ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!~

~Whooosh~ The doors to the lift tore open with Igor gasping at the sight before him. Never…had he seen anything like this before. All the bodies they had harvested for over ten years, all coming to life at once.

“OH GOD!” He screamed, as he then turned to see Narcissa with the Doctor just to the side of the lift entrance. “I got you!”The hunchback clamored out and tried to help Narcissa with the Doctor, to drag him into the lift, when the leader of the army made a swipe for the trio………except…..

“FATHER!!!!” Loc roared, as he threw himself into harms way. Loc’s fist connecting with the undead army leader’s jaw, knocking him back. It was enough to give Igor the chance to help Narcissa and the Doctor…..but at great cost.

“GO!” the creation screamed as the trio were about to be safely inside the lift. Igor couldn’t believe what Loc was doing.“GET IN, LOC!” But instead of getting in, Loc slammed his hand on the lift panel, so that the doors would shut and the three could get away.

The last thing they would see, would be Loc’s determined face….as the undead leader drove his fist right through Loc’s body, ripping out his stitched heart.

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~RB~

 

A few dead penguins – GS.

 

Leaving the boy behind with the nuns was a very bad idea.  Father Thomas and Rufus were in for a terrible shock.

Scene setting : St Luke’s Cathedral – Gantz series.

Co-written with Zu.

 

Zu:  

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Finally, after things had settled, Manny left himself on his knees, a large and sinister smile on his face while looking up at the portraits of baby Jesus, the man who could not save the nuns devoted to his lifestyle. All he could do was laugh: laugh at their pathetic lives before his arrival, laugh at the establishment he ripped through, laugh at the thoughts that could run through the others who had left the women to their deaths. He found it funny, bone-chilling good. When his laughter died down, he just got up without even thinking, let alone speaking, and walked off with a dead-serious expression on his face. He’ll leave this mess for God’s children to clean up.

 

Razorbackwriter:

After an exhaustive search that had seen Father Thomas and his trusty side kick Rufus come up empty handed in trying to find Sister Stevie – they were on their way back to the Cathedral. Slowly walking along the now empty streets, Rufus was sucking on a blueberry slurpee, while his boss, Father Thomas was muttering to himself. How could a bloody nun just vanish like that? All she was to do was buy a packet of cookies and bring them to the church, but she couldn’t even get that right. Rufus, who had bought his slurpee in the 7 Eleven that Sister Stevie was meant to go to, had asked the Indian shop keeper if he had seen the nun. No one in a nun’s habit had been seen in his shop that night, but the footage on the surveillance camera did show her walking past over two hours before. So…she had been on the street, and then simply vanished. This was partly why Father Thomas was so cross. His skills at apprehending and sending evil doers onto God, were something of underground folk lore. He considered himself to be a modern day Van Helsing. He just didn’t look as hot as Hugh Jackman, and he also had a nasty temper.

As Rufus tried to keep up with him, he asked. “So why are we going back to the church? Why not try the east side? Maybe she went to stop in at the homeless mission?” This was a good reason, but still didn’t add up. Father Tom was just about to enter the cathedral gates, when he noticed that the nun’s van was still parked out the front. They should have locked up and gone back to their home hours ago. The door was partially open, but….there was no sound coming from within. If they were still there, surely they would be able to hear them. Rufus bumped into the back of the priest, spilling some of his blue slurpee on the ground.

“Ugh..” He started wiping the ice cold drink off his jacket, while Father Thomas was pulling out a gun and holding it in front of himself, as he crept slowly towards the open door. Glancing up and seeing the priest go stalking up to the church, Rufus scampered along behind him – his shoes making a din along the leaf and snow covered ground.

“You going to go in armed? You might shoot a penguin.” Rufus whispered in a hushed tone, as Father Tom brought his finger up to his lips to make the bell ringer shush.

Creeping ever closer, the Priest pushed the door gently as he dared, but it still make a rough squeaking sound. Someone should really oil those hinges. Rufus poked his head in behind the Priest only to see a sight that had him instantly throwing up and gagging from the shock.

The nuns…every single one of them had been slaughtered. Like lambs….their bodies covering each and every pew. Blood splattered on every wall, every statue – even the pulpit. Glassy eyed women staring out at the void. Their lives lost so horribly.

 

“Oh…. my ….God.” Rufus stammered, while the Priest slowly lowered his firearm to his side. Rufus wiped the blue coloured vomit from his lips and staggered about, turning and bumping into body parts. His eyes wide as plates as he looked up at the Priest for answers.

“Father….they all been butchered.”

“I can see that.”

“But….what did this?”

As Father Thomas turned over the body of Sister Marjorie and stared at her bloody face, the Priest gave his answer.

“A vampire…laddy…….the little shit we left ‘ere.”

 

Rufus gasped. He remembered the boy that the Nuns had said would care for him. Could a little boy do all of this? It was hard to believe…murder on this scale done by one so young.

“No…would have had to have been a heap of them, Father. One child can’t do all this.”

Taking out his flashlight, Father Tom turned it on and pointed it to the floor, where you could see a trail of small bloody foot prints heading for the door. Father Tom looked at Rufus’s shocked face and added …“No? Think again, laddy. That face was not so innocent after all.”

The pair just stood there in the middle of the horror scene. First Sister Stevie….and now all the nuns. The devil must be dancing over this….

“What are we going to do?” Rufus said, his hands now trembling from the fear and shock. The boy could be watching them from the shadows.

“Hunt the little fucker down.”

~RB~

Don’t let the innocent face fool you – GS.

 

While the sibling vampires work out how to spend their eve, after feeding upon Sister Stevie, a young fellow has entered St Luke’s.  Oh he looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.  The truth was far more sinister.  With Father Thomas and his trusty sidekick going out to search for the missing nun, it was time for Manny to have some fun.

Scene setting – St Luke’s Cathedral and the Abandoned Warehouse.

Written with Zu and Chor.

 

Zu:

 

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So far, there was nobody to greet him. Whoever owned this place was an asshole, I mean he was only a Vampire. Manny made his way toward the door, which seemed to have some life in it, and Manny could smell it. While he was sure there were people in the church, he wasn’t very experienced in his abilities yet. Still, despite that, Manny was nothing to fool around with. He put on his innocent child persona, as he always did in case he could find some raw meat to sink his teeth into, worked every time. “H-Hello, is anyone here?”he called out sheepily, walking to the actual door like he was going through a bad part of town.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

St Luke’s Cathedral

As Father Tom started for the door, Rufus was one step ahead. He had been keen on Sister Stevie for some time, and as word passed around the church that she had yet to return from picking up cookies at the 7Eleven; the bell ringer went to get the Priest’s kit bag. It was a special bag that contained weapons to be used against the dark creatures of the night. Oh yes, Rufus was Father Tom’s side kick and assisted the Priest in helping hunt down the sinners that plagued the city streets. If one hair on Sister Stevie’s head had been harmed, Rufus would be her champion. Least that is how he liked to think of it. Father Thomas was the real hero….or anti hero. The Priest’s ways were not exactly orthodox. Considering himself to be a modern day Van Helsing of sorts.

The sisters busied themselves with doing the last of the packing up and cleaning the kitchen out as they waited for Sister Stevie to return. All were anxious, as she was the youngest of their sisterhood, and the most likely to come foul of whatever had caused her disappearance.

A voice however was heard at the entrance to the Cathedral, and it was asking if anyone was there.

“H-Hello, is anyone here?”

“Course there is, lad.” Father Tom said gruffly, as Rufus jogged up beside him. The bell ringer noting the small lad at the door. “You’re a bit late for bingo, Son. The nuns have packed up.”

Father Thomas rolled his eyes, but then had a thought and asked. “Have you seen a nun out on the street at all just now? We seem to be down one.” Maybe this lad had passed her by on the way across the street. If he hadn’t, that meant that the Priest and his bell ringer were going to have to go find her.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  When finished with her snack, Valarie stood gracefuly from her crouch to full height and faced her brother. Her eyes, black alike her soul, rolled back to show her attitude towards his comment. Perverted little fuck. Val ‘clomped’ her way over to him in her slightly heeled and fading black, leather boots.

“You wish; how about we paint the town crimson. I find that’s a much prettier shade of red,” she joked, trailing her nails down his arm before she took his hand. The nun was now a problem.

“What are you going to do with her? Tie her up?” Val asked, head cocked in question with her brows raised. What if by some miracle she regained her strength and escaped, only to tell of them and their nest? Valarie wasn’t that much worried about it htat she would let it ruin her and her brother’s fun night, but it was something that crossed her mind strongly enough for mention. Of course, her brother would be happy to just skip out with a stupid grin on his face, but Val knew better.

Zu:  

St Luke’s Cathedral

“No sir, I have not. I came here to stay for a bit, I don’t know where my brother is and our house is pretty far away. I was hoping I could come in, but if I’m bothering you. I’ll try somewhere else”

The boy’s sweet and innocent voice echoed through to the group of nuns that were huddled around the table to be packed away. Sister Marjorie’s ears pricked at hearing the boy’s plight and picking up the edges of her skirt she rushed over before the Priest could get another word in. The rather large nun, or head penguin as Father Thomas liked to regard her practically bowled the two men out of the way to get right up and close to the young lad.

“Oh, you poor thing. Come…come inside and we can take care of you while Father Tom goes off looking for Sister Stevie.” Before the boy had a chance to say another word, she tried to muscle him past the Priest who was rolling his eyes at her sense of charity. She’d take anyone in, but a boy she could not resist in the slightest.

“Do you know the Lord’s prayer? I do a rather rocking version of it.”

A loud groan came from the other nun’s as they knew that Sister Marjorie was going to be bringing out her guitar and singing….again. Sister Marjorie started to do a dance for Manny and a few of the other sisters got in behind her, to help kill the time and entertain their new guest.

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With the boy out of sight in the community hall part of the church, Father Thomas grabbed his kit from Rufus and urged him to follow the Priest out into the neighborhood. The search for Sister Stevie had begun, but little did he know what….or rather who he had left behind with his nuns. If only he had been more tuned into those he let walk right under his nose.

Rufus waved to the nuns and the lad, before closing the door behind him and scooting along after Father Thomas.

“She shouldn’t be too far….I think we should try the 7/Eleven first.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————-

~The Abandoned Warehouse~

“You wish; how about we paint the town crimson. I find that’s a much prettier shade of red.” So, Val was up for some fun this eve. She was certainly dressed to kill, rocking those boots of hers with all the panache and style of a well heeled girl about town. Course, Val was still worried about the nun that they had stashed in the office of the abandoned warehouse. Val would prefer that they killed rather than left one alive with the chance that she might regain her strength and make a run for it. Reece felt they had it covered. His hand taken by his dear sister, he started to swing it back and forth and gave her a cheeky, yet sinister grin. “Val, after both you and I had fed on the girl, do you really think that she is going to be in any state to do the minute mile? Think about it. She’s like half empty pop top. The girl hasn’t a hope in hell of getting the strength to move for at least two days.” This he was practically certain of. Ripping his hand away and then wiping it on his jacket as though it was infectious he gave a light shrug. “All I know, is I am horny and bored. Come on.”

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Not waiting another moment he yanked open the door to the warehouse and strutted outside.

The night was young enough for them to make a real party of it.

~RB~

 

Zu:  Manny’s plan was flowing beautifully, it worked every time. He turned around with his still-innocent face, and smiled a little grin when welcomed by his main course. He walked in with them, and said goodbye to the one that could possibly get in his way. Manny didn’t know anything about the Lord, he didn’t exist. After all, there’s no way that anyone could just be alive like Manny, that makes no sense. He watched his little happy meals dance their stupid dance, sing their dumb songs and his stomach was thinking the same thing he was; feeding time. Manny wasted no time to get to the point. “Hey, I got a game me and my brother used to play. You want to play with me?” he asked, in the most sincere way possible, that childish grin plastered on his face.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

St Luke’s Cathedral

Finishing their song, the nuns were ready to head back to the nunnery, when the boy who had been their one and only spectator asked if they would be interested in a game that he and his brother liked to play. He asked if they would play it with him.

Sister Marjorie saw no harm in it. Father Thomas and Rufus had not yet returned, so they could kill the time on waiting for the return of Sister Stevie by playing along with the sweet looking little fellow.

Leaning over the boy, the nun with a more than ample bosom; smiled sweetly down at Manny.

“What game did you want to play? Hide and Seek?”

She figured that would be the sort of game one could play in a church, unless it was charades. The other nuns crowded around the boy in a circle, waiting to hear what he had to say.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  Val, still the slightest bit unconvinced, shrugged. It didn’t matter really. She’d never cared much before, why bother now…

“Alright, alright; you’ve won. Let’s get out of this shit-hole. I want to breathe in the night,” Val replied to him, sucking in a stagnant breath of the stale and filthy warehouse air. The nigth held possibilites Val couldn’t even imagine. Her brother and her always got in the best kinds of trouble and always came home knowing they’d satisfied themselves.

I’m horny and bored. Val shook her head and followed her brother. Always the sex addict. Her hair blew fiercely as he thrust open the heavy rusted door as the wind surged in from the pressure difference.

 

Zu:  

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“Hm, something like that. It goes a little something like this! With that, Manny chomped down on the fresh meat that was too eager to be slaughtered. Before another one could get away, he grabbed her with only one hand, by the throat, and took a bite out of her too. If they thought they could escape, they should think again. Manny would be too fast for them, should they try to leave. This was even better, as there was no interference for anyone, or anything. He went one at a time, the sounds of death-deafening screams filling his ears like music. This is what he lived for, this was his normal.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

St Luke’s Cathedral

Like penguins with their feet tied together…it was hard to outrun the short stack vampire on crack. Manny had tricked the nuns into thinking that this innocent face wanted to play a children’s game. No, he wanted to commit foul murder and feed on the hapless sisters till not one was left standing. Try as they dare to find an exit, there was no outrunning Manny. He was simply too fast for them. Blood letting of the worst kind. Nun’s with great gashes out of their necks, falling like flies. Deathly screams ringing out, while the savior stared down at them from the window panes, unaware that they were all to join with him in heaven much faster than anticipated.

From the outside of the church, you could only see the shadows of running nuns and then they would fall prey to the kid like vampire.

It was like something out of a sick horror movie, and the one person that could have saved them, was out searching for Sister Stevie. What would happen on his return to find his beloved nuns eaten alive?

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The last nun fell to Manny’s brutal attack, her gurgling cries soon silenced as the look of death now stared from her face. Body after body was strewn all around the church. Helter skelter, no mercy had been shown.

 

~RB~

 

Goodbye Frank : GS.

 

Two wrongs don’t make a right.  The last hours of Detective Frank Malone.

Co-written with Nhal.
Razorbackwriter: Heading out to the street outside Elissa’s apartment, the two men would be saying good bye to each other. Little did they know the importance of what this would mean. Frank now had the goods on the Commander, thanks to Tommy’s connection in the darker underworld of New York. Reaching the curb, Frank puts his hand out to flag down a taxi, as Tommy is about to head to his car.

“You sure you want to use them?” The reporter asks, almost second guessing himself. The evidence in the brown envelope is damaging. So serious in fact that the Commander would never get a job in the city again, not even street sweeping. Frank gave a mere shrug of his shoulders. Everything the Detective had tried to do to clear his name and his own reputation had been hindered by the Commander at each and every turn. With the most recent death of Joey Patone, Frank was now a scapegoat more than ever for who was truly responsible for the mobster’s murder. The Commander had in his possession the photographs that had been taken from Joey’s apartment and featured images of the creature that had taken Rory that fateful night. Those alone could prove that Frank was not in the slightest bit crazy, and backed up the claims that he had made. It would vindicate him not only to those that he served with, but also to his ex wife. Isolde would also be in the clear, since her lab reports on the firing of Frank;s gun would show that he did not shoot Eliissa, or Joey Patone.

One career for another.

“This has to end, Tommy. My life has been a right mess since the night Rory died. I’ve had enough of people holding that over me. You saw the fluffy alien princess upstairs. They exist. That means this creature that attacked Rory also does. The Commander knows it and is trying to keep it under wraps. God knows why. If I have to blackmail the bastard with these pictures to get what’s left of my life back…then so be it.”

Frank had no remorse for the Commander. He was the most corrupt official in New York. This was an easy out for him. All he had to do was hand over the pictures from Joey’s apartment and let sleeping dogs lie.

The reporter let out a sigh as a cab pulled up alongside them.

“This is my ride. I’ll call you. See ya, Tommy.”

Frank smacked the side of Tommy’s arm and then got into the cab. He settled into the back seat as the detective gave him an address that he knew was a place few ventured. Dock nine, Warehouse 32. The cab sped off into the traffic, leaving Tommy standing there on the sidewalk. There was little he could do, but wait for Frank to call him that night, and let him know how it went down.

In the cab, Frank started to text the Commander’s phone.

~Commander, it’s Frank. You and I need to talk. Meet me at Dock nine, Warehouse 32 at 4pm today. Bring the evidence box from Joey’s apartment, and I’ll let you have the goat pictures and footage.~

Frank pressed send, then stared straight ahead as his fingers strummed the outside of the parcel that contained the photographs.

In the Commander’s office, the Commander was dictating a letter to his secretary, when his cell phone started to vibrate. Thinking it could be his new wife, he picked it up – only to turn pale when he read what was on the display. ~Goat pictures?~ The Commander nearly started to choke, and it was bad enough to have his secretary run around behind him to pat his back. “What is it? Are you alright?”

Of course, the Commander was far from okay, and started to scream at the girl to get out of his office. This had to be a set up. Frank didn’t have it in him to try and blackmail anyone. Or did he? The Commander couldn’t take any chances and quickly lept up, grabbing his coat. The evidence box from Joey’s apartment was still on his desk, and in a terrible rush, the Commander left his office to go and meet up with the Detective. His career and everything he had ever worked for was now on the line.

In a darkened room across town, an agent had his hand up to the left side of his head phones.

“Ma’am….the Commander is on the move. He’s going to go meet Malone at the docks. Should we respond?”

The red hue of a cigarette burning was coming from the corner of the room and a feminine voice responded. “I think its time to bring the curtain down on the Commander. He just reached his use by date.”

Pushing herself up out from her chair, she snapped her fingers at her assistant – a dark skinned man wearing a black suit. He slipped on a pair of dark glasses and fell in behind the woman in red. It was zero hour.

4.00pm

Pulling open the warehouse door, a faint light could be seen inside the empty space within the warehouse. Stepping in with his gun drawn, Frank looked about for signs of life. There was nothing but the faint drip of what he thought was water. Had the Commander even shown up? Going in a bit further, he could just make out the outline of what looked to be the Commander seated at a table in the middle of the building. He was just…staring into space. Frank re holstered his firearm and then headed closer towards the Commander.

“It’s a shame it had to come to this…..”

The Commander didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He had a bullet hole in his forehead – his nose drenced in blood and the slow dripping of crimson onto the table in front of him.

The Commander was dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nhal: “A shame? No, I don’t really think it is. If anything I think it’s just one of many inevitible truths.” Bols stepped out of seemingly nowhere, almost as if he was spawned from the shadows themselves. He slowly paced his way through the open space, his shoes clicking against the ground loudly as he walked up behind the Detective. He crossed his arms and shook his head slightly as he paced up next to him. “And you know, I really am sorry, but there is one more truth im going to have to show you… A truth I dont think your going to enjoy.” Stepping around the body, Bols tucked his hand into his jacket and removed a small vial of dark blue liquid which he held up in front of his face, peering through the glass with one eye.

“Nobody enjoys the beginning, but the end?… Oh man that part is a whole lot worse…” With a gentle toss into the air he flipped the vial around in the air and caught it in his other hand, dropping it into his sleeve and then dropping his arms to his sides with a soft shrug. “So what will it be Detective? Are you going to take an offer of peace and prosperity? Or will you be put through a hell of running in circles for the rest of your life? You have five seconds to decide.”

Raising his hands out to his sides he gave a soft smirk towards the young detective. His own mischievous grin upon his face causeing him to look far less serious than his voice led him to believe. “Choose, now… Five…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: Who was this strange man that appeared right as Frank was saying what he thought was a sad kind of greeting to the very dead Commander. It stopped the detective in his tracks and the package that had been kept tightly under his arm slipped and fell to the ground – scattering across the dirty warehouse floor. The sounds of his shoes, as he passed around the body of the Commander and his almost sarcastic tone was enough to make the Detective wonder if it was the man that had done the killing. Normally, an assassin doesn’t dance around his victim and taunt a police detective in the process.

“Who are you?” Obvious question is obvious. Not that the man would divulge such a thing. He was too busy speaking in riddles. He kept speaking about inevitable truths, something that had been lacking in Frank’s world up till now. The Detective was about to reach for his gun, when the man produced a blue vial and tossed it into the air, catching it with his other hand. It didn’t take all of Frank’s detective skills to work out that the vial spelt trouble. But why did he flaunt this, instead of a gun? Surely if he had killed the Commander, he would turn a gun on him. None of this was making any sense.

“I don’t understand what you are talking about? Did you kill the Commander?”

The man was set on a deal of sorts. One that the Detective only had two choices from and under five seconds to make it. HIs eyes showed conflict and confusion. Was his life on the line? He had spent years running in circles. Everything that had led up to this point was all smoke and mirrors. The truth….was on the table…on the floor. Now the Commander was dead, would he ever be free?

“Five…”

“Wait…I don’t understand..”

In a mad panic…Frank blurted the first thing that came natural. “I just want it to end!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nhal: Bols stopped with a small shake of his head yet again. “What a dull choice… But I guess you wont have an issue with my own, seeing as you wont remember it.” Raiseing one hand in Frank’s direction he held two fingers and a thumb open towards him, as if displaying a card to the man across from him. “Im going to have to ask you to sit like a good boy.” Snapping his wrist downwards his fingers now pointing towards the floor, the weight in Frank’s body suddenly began to grow exponentially as if he was burdened by heavy stones or steel.

“You see, there has been a unanimous descision to take you and your boss here, and replace you with more… Cooperative buisness partners…” Turning his hand slightly, the weight of Frank’s being continued to grow faster and faster until he could no longer support himself. “Although if it makes you feel any better, its all for a good cause… Trust me.” Bols let off a light smirk before he flicked his opposeing wrist, summoning the vial of liquid to his hand again.

“Hey Volkov, hold onto his head for me will you? we dont need him squirming around or else I might knick something important…” As he finished speaking, a very bulky looking man in a white suite made his way into the warehouse from outside, getting close to Frank he simply gave Bols a grunt and a nod, placing his large hands on either sides of the detective’s head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: How was it that this man was able to wield the power over Frank, to have his entire body become heavy as lead. Frank had no choice, he had lost the ability to move freely. Hands and feet swelling and he was finding a rising pain in his chest as he struggled to breath. Frank tried to speak, to voice a protest – but it all came out like a pathetic sounding grunt. His eyes now bulging as though his head was caught in a vice. He wanted to reach out towards this man, who was acting like a showman more than anything. But he simply couldn’t. A look of horror now on his face, as the unknown man said that there had been a unanimous decision for both the Commander and the detective to be replaced. Frank knew that the Commander was on the mobs books, but he never had the chance to prove it. Did this man think the same thing of Frank? Did he even care?

Not by the way he was speaking. Again with a sinister smirk and the showing of the blue vial, the same one that he had spun around on their first meeting.

“Although if it makes you feel any better, its all for a good cause… Trust me.”

How could he trust a man that had his sights set on killing him? Every part of his life was now spinning before his eyes. This was the end. it was not how he envisioned it. He never got the chance to say goodbye to the one person he loved. His son.

A single tear ran down his face, as a large man in white appeared from the shadows and took hold of his head. The only saving grace for Frank now, was that his death would be swift. He closed his eyes….and inwardly prayed to his Lord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nhal: Flicking his opposing wrist, Bols brought a large syringe from his sleeve, stabbing the tip through the vial in his other hand and began to draw the blue liquid before he dropped the empty vial onto the ground. “Do enjoy your time here, because as short as it will be, it sure as hell wont feel like it.” Casually stepping over the corpse in front of him, Bols swiftly swung his arm and stabbed the needle into Franks neck, injecting the fluid within directly into his blood stream before tossing the apparatus aside. “Now then, the drug will start taking effect in about three minutes, so until then, we get to have a little fun… Volkov, make sure he doesn’t move an inch…”

The enormous man simply gave another grunt and a nod as Bols paced away from Frank’s position, approximately 20 feet in distance. Spinning on his heel he stopped and when he faced his target. “And so, we begin.” Slipping his hands into his opposing sleeves he pulled out two small knives, twisting his arms and his wrists forwards he loosed the blades, sending them spiraling towards Frank and burying them deep into the soft flesh at the joints of his shoulders. “Hit, Fourty points.” His head cocked to the side slightly. “But im sure I can do so very much better…”

Tucking his hands back behind his back he slid them under his vest before bringing them back in front of him and fanning a series of various sized and shaped blades. Tossing his ensemble into the air he began to juggle them in his hands before he suddenly hopped back and lifted his left leg, rapidly kicking at each individual blade and sending them flying towards the target. A blade in the arm, leg, shoulder, stomach, another leg and a shoulder, a hand, a deep graze against the neck, then both the final blades burying themselves in his waist. “Alright, thats much better… Ill call that Three-hundred Fifty points.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: This man was like some crazed circus performer with his insane wit and then the actions that were to bring horror and misery to his target of choice – the ill fated detective. It’s one thing to know that you are going to die. It’s another to be tortured beforehand. Without the ability to really scream as his body was now like a massive led weight, his jaw just fell open and the hollowed sound of his rasping breathe would bring a chill to anyone that felt a shred of humanity. The man with the knives clearly didn’t. He was enjoying this so much he was even shouting the scores as his blades made their mark on multiple parts of Frank’s body. A single bullet could have just ended it all, but this was dragging on and on. Blood spurting out of the wounds where the many blades were now buried. The man that held onto Frank’s head would surely have his pristine white suit splattered, but neither man seemed to care.

The drug that had been administered early on, was now starting to slowly take affect. Not that it really mattered. Frank’s mind had now completely snapped and reality was a nightmare that he could not be released from till a blade would puncture either his lungs or his heart. The man was clever enough to avoid striking major organs and arteries to prolong the suffering of the Detective. To fall prey to a sadist was the worst thing imaginable.

Pools of Frank’s blood was now forming on the floor under him and running towards the nearest drain hole. A gurgled sound came from Frank as he started to slip from consciousness due to the severe blood loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nhal: “Come on Franky, stay awake… We just have a little longer to play, then we can wrap up here. Volkov, you can let him go… With all the nerves and tendons that Ive severed, theres no way he’s going to be moving anywhere…” The larger man gave his signature nod and grunt, releasing frank and stepping off to the side. Bols’ expression suddenly went serious, his arms moving out to his sides in a T. “Well Frankie, its been fun… But, my associates think its time we end this little dance… And besides, I have some important guests showing up soon, it would be a shame if I missed them…”

Turning his wrist sharply a thin fibre wire began to fly through the air, spiraling around Frank. “I think the term ‘Death by a thousand cuts’ is quite applicable here.” Giving his wrist another flick, a series of blades of varying sizes, styles and lengths began pouring out of his sleeve as if someone had knocked over a box at an old blacksmiths shop. they all stuck to the thread as more and more began to spew forth, surrounding the detective in a near solid wall of iron and steel.

“And this shall be the end… Any last words detective boy?…” Moving his arm to his front, Bols closed his hand, pointing a finger towards Frank as the dozens of different blades all faced in his direction, poised for the killing blow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Razorbackwriter: Time had slowed right down, with everything in front of Frank to be nothing but a horrible blur of sound and sight. Though Bol had drugged the detective so that he would never remember this death, as he lived it – Frank was going through a torturous end. Mercy it seemed was not in Bol’s vocabulary, and so as the blood wept from each and ever blade strike, the detective looked nothing more than a sad mannequin that had taken it’s final bow. It was no longer about pain, it was more about regret. Missed chances, lost days, a pathetic existence. There seemed to be no justice or truth except to say that Frank’s death would end up being as much a mystery as Rory’s had been. And all for what? Would anyone care?

As more cuts were inflicted, the warehouse gave way to another setting entirely. Frank found himself on a jetty facing a boat that was boarding with many other people that had either been murdered or taken away….like Rory. In fact, it was Rory who was waiting for Frank. Still wearing the same suit as he had on the night of his murder, blood stains down his shirt, and gouges in his neck that appeared fresh, Rory extended his hand towards Frank to follow him. The detective looked down at himself, no longer bleeding profusely, but appearing as he had when he first entered the warehouse. His hands trembled as he reached for his friend. United in death?

“Come on, Frank.” Rory urged. The boat was ready to depart. All the others were now on board and staring at the setting sun. They would follow the sun till it reached the end of the earth and then be taken onto their new lives. “I’ve been waiting for you, mate” Rory was smiling now as Frank started to take those last steps…..

“And this shall be the end… Any last words detective boy?…”

The voice was coming from behind him. It was the monster that was delivering the final blow. Frank turned his head slowly in this dreamscape. Rory was now shouting at Frank. “Don’t listen to him…..Stay with me. Join me.” There was a desperation in his voice as though he knew what staying behind meant. A large horn blast from the boat meant it was leaving and Rory jumped on the loading ramp. “Frank!”

“Rory….”

It was to be his last word, as the blades all surrounded him…and delivered the crushing blow. Blood spewing from every point of entry. Frank was dead.

The boat sailed off….without him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RIP Frank.

Beauty is skin deep – SS.

The Princess of Greed has not had her happy ever after as she anticipated.  So now we follow her as she returns to her Chambers.

[KINGDOM] – Greed : Lydia’s chambers

Razorbackwriter:  The Princess of Greed never ever envisioned that her night of magic and dance would turn into such a nightmare. All her grand plans were now in ruin, thanks to that horrid angelic Templar. Struggling to make her way up the passage to her apartment, the disfigured and now crippled Lydia was cursing and muttering foul obscenities under her breath. Guards that stood to attention as she passed had to fight to stop themselves from being sick at her appearance. Her skin was scarred, bloody and torn. Her dress a wreck. One heel of her shoes was broken and this did nothing to help with her trying to walk with some dignity. It was all that Lydia had left.

Surprisingly, Lydia still held her mask in her hand. She’d managed to keep a hold of it, even with the fight that she had with the Templar. Such a pretty thing it was too, but it was useless to her. Lydia stumbled and only just managed to catch herself before falling face first onto the floor. A small cry of pain came from her painted red lips, that were now stretched to half way down her chin. She looked every bit the monster that she truly was.

None of the guards moved to help her. All stood in their rows. Afraid to help her. She was liable to lash out in fury, and it was known far and wide that she was unpredictable as the weather.

Her head turned to sneer at one of the guards nearest where she stood. Her chin trembled as she grit her teeth in an act of defiance. No one could help her now. Scar had run off with the young witch. Why Lydia had not seen that coming was beyond her. One thing was for certain, she now had a hit list. A list of those that in her eyes wronged her….and they would all pay.

Finally, after the exhausting walk to her chambers; she was about to reach for the door handle, when she heard a woman’s voice from within.

“Oh yes!…Yes…Oh…you are so BIG! Harder…..FASTER….Please, Master!”

Lydia froze, with a dumbfounded expression on her face. She checked the door, and yes, this was her room.

 

“Mmmm….yes little one. I can get even bigger.”

“MASTER!…Don’t stop!”

There was the sound of grunts and bed springs. A glorious crescendo of animalistic noises coming from within Lydia’s chambers. Lydia blinked as she wondered just who could be f*cking in her bed. Her mind raced as she tried to remember the man’s voice. The woman’s….it could have been half of hell. With a loud snort, Lydia gripped the handle to her door and forced it open. What met her gaze when she entered left her gob smacked.

“RAUL!?”

“Lydia?”

“I’m coming!” The masked girl cried out as Lydia stood in the doorway, absolutely shocked. There was the Warlock, and some masked harlot, going hammer and tongs on HER bed.

“Not on my silk sheets, you’re not!” Lydia stormed into the room, but forgot about her broken shoe and tripped on the corner of the rug, sending her flying flat on her face.

“Oh…..fuck.” The warlock withdrew himself from the girl and pushed her face first into the pillows, so as to muffle any protests or other…sounds.

Lydia was slamming her fists onto the floor. She was beyond angry…beyond livid. If it wasn’t for the fact she was in such a state, it would have been comical.

Raul took up his pants and quickly threaded them on, before making his way to Lydia’s side to help her up. Only when she lifted her head and he got sight of her disfigured face, he quickly let go of her hand.

“Princess? What the hell happened to you?”

“Help me up, you idiot.”

The Warlock remembered his manners and then assisted Lydia to stand, while the girl that had been in Lydia’s bed was now trying to cover up her nakedness with a sheet. She happened to be one of the lesser royals and had been charmed by Raul earlier in the night. The girl chewed her lip nervously, as she knew that she could be in terrible trouble.

Once Lydia was standing upright, she spread her hands out as though to help give herself some balance. Her chest was rising and falling sharply, her heart pounding like there was no tomorrow.

“Lydia…..Sweetheart…” Raul implored, holding his palms together as though he was ready to pray. Lydia bared her teeth at Raul and snarled. “I was down there….in the ballroom….fighting for my life. And you….YOU were up here in my chambers no less, fucking some…some trumped up tart?!”

Raul knew he was going to pay for this mistake. He had found the girl wandering and…well, one thing led to another. He had an insatiable appetite for a pretty face….and fanny. Raul’s brows knitted however when he heard that Lydia’s life had been in danger. Her face evidence that she had put up a fight and lost. He held up a finger as though to say something witty, then slowly brought it down as he stared at Lydia’s face. It was hideous.

“Who did this to you? The Princess of Wrath?” The Warlock had assumed that since Lydia had her sights on the head of Wrath that this was the result. Oh how wrong he was.

“No!….Some holy…damn fucking…How the hell does an Angel exist in Hell? And…and I thought Excalibur belonged to some poxy King named Arthur.” She then waved her hand at her injuries. “IT did this.” Meaning that the sword’s power caused her to practically melt. She shuffled over to her dresser and started picking up face cream bottles and tonics. “I can’t go out looking like this!” Lydia looked up at her reflection and then screamed. It was a hollow and terrible sound, that would make even a man weep.

“My….beautiful face.”

The Warlock came to stand in behind the Princess and rested his hands upon her shoulders. As much as Lydia could be annoying, the Warlock had a soft spot for her. So evil…and yet so unpredictable.

“We can fix this.”

“What with? Oil of Ulan? Oh..that’s not going to do shit.”

Suddenly, the Warlock had an idea. He stuck his tongue to the inside of his cheek, while Lydia stared back at his reflection. He started to grin as he leaned down and whispered into Lydia’s ear.

“Essence of another can restore your beauty.”

 

Lydia’s ears pricked at this and then she cast her eyes to the figure of the girl that was still huddled in a sheet on the bed. Although it was hard to see, due to the sagging corners of Lydia’s mouth, she started to smile. She brought up a hand to clasp over Raul, who was now raising his chin proudly. “Can you forgive me?” He said, staring at her in the mirror.

“If you can fix me. Then yes. Just this once.”

The two then turned to face the girl, who stared at them both innocently.

“What?”

 

The view from outside Lydia’s chambers would show a strange red and green glow coming from under the door, as the Warlock started a chant that had Lydia laughing with glee. Terrified screams soon fell into silence, as another life was lost on the night of the ball.

 

~RB~

Pure Blood – GS.

 

Following on from “A Nun’s Habit”, the Nuns start to worry about Sister Stevie, unaware that she has fallen into the clutches of the Hatchett Twins.

Scene setting – St Luke’s Cathedral & the Abandoned warehouse

Co-Written with Zu and Chor.

 

Zu:

 https://i1.wp.com/i1268.photobucket.com/albums/jj561/Voreh/Voreh_IMVU/KiraKousukefull1325446_zps6c9faae9.jpg
The smell of blood had filled the air, but only those with a heightened sense, such as Manny, could feel it rush through his nostrils. “I have no idea how many are dead, or alive, but I’ll take what I can get” Manny was standing in front of the church’s gate, looking at the quiet church in front of him. His kind wasn’t too fond of churches, as they were considered holy. Of course, there wasn’t much to fear as holy men and women had no divine intervention to help them with their troubles. Manny had once prayed to God, but it feel on deaf ears; it’s why he is where he stands today, dead and hungry. Manny stepped through the gate, making his way inside. There was someone here, but not anyone he can recall.

 

Razorbackwriter: The last of the bingo prizes were being handed out to the winners that attended the Friday night bingo session with Father Thomas. The sisters were helping with the tea and coffee, after having come back late from their trip to the children’s hospital. As the last of the elderly ladies were getting their cups of tea, Sister Mary Maxine was looking anxiously out the side door. Sister Stevie, who had gotten off the bus before reaching the Cathedral had not yet appeared with the packets of cookies that she was supposed to be getting. Wringing her hands, and taking one last look out the door, she made her way over to Sister Marjorie, who was helping stack away the chairs. Sister Mary Maxine coughed slightly, with her fist up to her mouth, to get her Mother Superior’s attention.

“Sister Marjorie….I worry for Sister Stevie.”

“Why is that, Sister Mary Maxine. Is she not back yet?” Sister Marjorie was in the middle of placing up one of the last chairs, and was not looking at Sister Mary Maxine directly. “No…she has not come back.” Sister Mary Maxine was now truly worried. It had been nearly forty five minutes, and this was most unusual. The convenience store was not even a ten minute walk. Tutting under her breath, Sister Marjorie wiped her hands upon her skirt and then grimaced as she saw that many of the bingo regulars were starting to leave. “Do you think we should be worried?” Sister Mary Maxine asked. Thinking for a moment, Sister Marjorie made her suggestion. “She might have stopped to help someone in need. It’s in her nature. If she doesn’t show up by eleven o’clock, we alert Father Thomas.”

“Alert me about what, Sisters?’

Father Tom was standing right behind the two nuns, and his silent approach followed by his queries had them both jump. Sister Marjorie placed a hand to her chest. “Oh…it’s probably nothing, but Sister Stevie has not returned to the church after we dropped her off to get some cookies for the supper.”

The Priest narrowed his gaze, then glanced towards the open doorway. He could have sworn he saw a shadow move and so he excused himself from the two sisters, and started for the door.

~The Abandoned Warehouse~

https://38.media.tumblr.com/01fbe5e4c6cd6d13dfe4f4649c320a1a/tumblr_ml0k4lEHEX1qjouuqo1_500.gif

Reece was dragging the nun’s unconscious body across the litter covered floor of the warehouse, leaving a trail of blood in it’s wake. Normally, Reece killed his victims outright, but for some reason he wanted this one alive. Reaching a dirty mattress in the office at the back, he lay Sister Stevie down and then reached for an old blanket to drape across her. Stepping back, he ran his tongue across his bottom lip – tilting his head as he admired her sweet face.

“You have no idea how delicious you truly are.” this was said almost in a hushed voice as he bent down to push her fringe back delicately with his slender fingers. “You’re a keeper.” Rising up again, he took two steps backwards before spinning on his heel and then gripping the broken door frame to the office. He could see his sister Valarie over in the far corner of the disused building and he sung out to her. “Right…what shall we do with the rest of the night? You wanna feed on some hapless lad, or shall we go dancing?” Reece struck a pose, like he was from some TV dance show, and let out a loud laugh. “I feel so good, I could dance till the Sun came up.”

~RB~

 

Chor:  Valarie picked absentmindedly at her nails, on which there was nothing to pick-old habits die hard-, as her brother played his little game with her fresh draw. An eyeroll here and there when she glanced over. What, was he gonna marry her or something? Pushing herself off of the wall, the clicking of her boots signaled she was heading towards the room where her brother brought the human.

“Must you be so filthy, brother? There is a more…cleanly way to feed,” she uttered, disgusted by the mess. Her brother had a knack for the more violent and irrational attacks, while Valarie was more intelligent and sterile about it. She grimaced at the nun who laid still living on the only mattress in the forsaken warehouse.

“You know I don’t dance. Why is she still alive?” Valarie inquired, a brow raised in the direction of her brother as her gaze moved to him. It was unusual to say the least, but still breathing could only cause them trouble.

Razorbackwriter:  The male vampire was too caught up in his own renewed vigor and merriment to let his twin’s disgusted comments faze him. He swanned about in a circle with his arms outstretched, the nun’s blood giving him a vitality that was a joy to be savored. Valarie was the day to Reece’s night. Complete opposites in every sense of the word. Sometimes her sanitary ways were annoying. Her brother having little regard for getting messy with his kills. It was all part of what he loved about being a vampire.

“Val…I swear I am going to buy you a monogrammed bib. Heh. Either that or a six pack of straws. So what if I like to spill my food.” Reece shot across the room at speed and appeared right in Valarie’s face. The smell of Sister Stevie’s blood still ripe upon his breath. He visibly licked his lips right in front of her before winking. “You’re a kill joy.” The way he said it showed a distaste for her formality. “As for why I am keeping this one alive. Well…I’m not finished with her yet. A blood as pure as that is hard to come by in this day and age. Course…you’d know if you had a go at her yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good enough reason, but Reece never did like to have to explain himself. He thought himself the leader, not a doormat.

 

~RB~

 

Chor:  Valarie, eyes sharply narrowed to her brother with a fiery look that read mischief.

 

“Don’t mock me, little boy,” Val uttered, her tongue dragging her ‘l’ slowly out on her white top teeth. Her brother loved to tease her about her obsessive, compulsive tendencies. She never paid much mind to it, though, because for every flaw in her, there was an equal one in him. As he neared her face, her nostrils filled with the exoticly scintillating scent of the pure-blooded nun which she so generously allowed her brother to have first feed on. Closer and closer he got, until there was but inches between them. With the most evil smirk, one her brother was only able to gaze upon for a moment, Val took her brother’s chiseled jaw in one pale, ivory hand and licked the blood from the corner of his mouth off, leaving her tongue to trail until she stepped past him. She left him with not only a trail of blood, but of saliva up his cheekbone from his mouth towards his ear.

“Mm, I’m beginning to see now,” she spoke of the taste he bragged about, with a low chuckle as she swayed away from him towards the nun. She lifted gently the wrist of the woman and sipped generously, licking when the vein became messy. Her brother had much to learn if he intended to keep this sweet delicacy living.

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was always a game of one up man ship between the twins. Valerie being the older and wiser often found herself cleaning up more than just her brother’s messy kills. Reece had a wicked glint in his eyes when Valarie told him not to mock her. Her tone having a slight drawl to it, as though to emphasize her annoyance. Reece was a shocking tease. Always daring Valarie to do what was considered unthinkable. Course, she usually brushed it off, that was until she decided to help herself to the remaining traces of blood that were on the edges of his lips. Reece let out something of a guttural groan at the touch of the tip of her tongue. The way her slender cold digits gripped the edge of his chin, almost made him feel. His jaw locked, and his elongated fangs were now on full display. But that delicious growl soon turned to a disgusted ‘gah’, when he realized she had left a trail of saliva up to his ear.

“And you call me messy.” He wiped it away with the back of his hand, his right brow arching as Valarie simply stepped past him and went to see this new virgin blood bag. Reece folded his arms, as he felt all the fun now draining away. Valarie was now having her share….and didn’t hold back, only remembering to lick the wound clean at the end. Something he hadn’t bothered to do.

 

Sauntering over to the door way of the office, Reece smacked his lips together as though he was now bored again. Truth was he loved the night life….clubs filled with fresh targets, dancing…lights..music. The empty warehouse was just a safe haven to bring kills. It was unusual for Reece to keep this one alive, but no doubt Valarie could tell why from the girl’s taste.

“So…what shall we do now, Val? Paint the town red….or go find you a nice innocent fuck?” Reece started laughing as he swiveled around to head for the door to the street. “I get to watch though.”

Reece was once again beaming. Oh how he loved to yank her chain.

~RB~