Friday, March 19, 2004
She screamed as the knife bit into her back, drawing her attention back to the fight. Stupid to let her concentration drift like that. These weren’t exactly skilled, but they weren’t exactly pushovers. A hand tangled in her hair and she felt the sharp edge of a knife slide across her throat, hot blood spilling out. She tried to reach up and grab the arm, but the blade sank into her writs, tearing a new fountain from her arm.
Everything started to go gray.
She stood on the dais, the flames roaring around her, the black bag in her hands. A weakened beam fell, bisecting the broken and charred corpse of the one who had been her enemy. There were other bodies littering the room, but she paid little attention. She would leave enough for them to be recognizable. Except for the one who she’d killed when she’d woken up. The pieces of the body were already mangled. But that was to be expected, for what he’d been doing to her body.
She stepped down the wide stairs, stepping over debris lightly, absently taking note. She smiled as the flames leaned toward her and reached out, fingers trailing through the tongues, almost stroking the flickering blaze. The door had long fell in, giving her a plank to walk on and thus ignore the bloated body pinned under it.
The surface was bright, mid-day. Birds were singing, a nice background the snap and crackle of the burning wood behind her. The group not to far away regarded her warily as she walked toward them, sighting the two she’d came here to find.
No words were said as they journied back to the safehouse. One had tried to gauge her injuries, but she shrugged him off, keeping the black bag in her lap. She opened it carefully, cradling what was inside in one hand.
A human heart rested in the black cloth. Still beating. Blood dribbled out of one of the veins, looking vaguely pornographic. She cradled it in her hands, watching it move.
She had already healed. She had no use for this now.
Her tongue wet her lips as she wrapped her hands around the heart, eyes closing. There was a hard flood of heat through her as she ignited her heart and let it char.
That was somewhat better. She ignores the stares and turns back around, walking back upstairs to get dressed. They would leave soon.
.:.Uniquely maladjusted... But fun.:. 7:30 PM
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Web-Home of Parvastur Tultema, Tecilquar of the Spring-fed Field, Lover of Nature, Smiter of Idiots, Watch-Warden of the Squirrels of Inconvenience, Nazi of the Grocery, Wielder of Sword of Bronze and Emerald, Inciter of Bunnies, and Wereslut of a Thousand Forms.
Much more subtlety like that, and I'm going to have to become a used car salesman just to maintain my self-respect.
Being able to fly would be cool, but only if I could fly fast. Flying slow is floating, and that's just creepy.
Look, Lemmings -- a Cliff!
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