amaranthh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greenling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-05-06 08:47 pm
greenling) wrote in rainbowfic2014-05-06 08:47 pm
Entry tags:
Famous #14
Name: Greenling
Story: Asking for Roses
Colors: Famous #14 (He licked his lips, said to me, "girl you look good enough to eat")
Supplies and Styles: None
Word Count: 890
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of offscreen death, violence.
Summary: Last we left Celeste (back in October) she had come home to find terrible things. Jaymie tried to call her and there was no answer. So what's going on with her, anyway?
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
It had been a relatively nice day until she had come home to find a monster perched on her wife's dead body.
Celeste had made plans for this evening. Plans to relax, after spending all day driving back and forth between clients like someone's goddamned gofer. Now she was in the car again, coatless and barefoot and feeling like a horror movie victim as she fumbled with the keys. Her mind raced faster than her body, all she could think of was don't drop them, that's always what they do, then something skittered out of her front door and up the awning and all of a sudden the key went in and she was sliding out the driveway doing 65 on instinct. Over a bush- oh well- and down the street still in reverse, missing iridescent claws by feet, inches, something like that. Another car passed her blaring its horn, and she took that opportunity to pull around and drive straight.
After all, if she got herself killed driving, said the part of herself she recognized as her mother- she might be far better off than with whatever that thing wanted, said the rest. Neither part felt the demise of her neighbor's hideous flamingo mailbox was relevant.
Celeste got out of the neighborhood in a heartbeat, somehow, and in the blur she had managed to get her seatbelt on and flick the heater down a notch without noticing she'd done so. Now she was turning onto a larger road, slowing down to join traffic, and her heart had a chance to fall down out of her throat. It wasn't a perfect chance. Traffic was heavy, she had no idea where the hell she was going, and in the rearview mirror she saw something dart, leap, far off, getting closer. The way it moved made her shudder.
She saw an opportunity and she gunned it.
Two cars blared their horns as she cut onto the road and into the left-turn lane, barely missing the red light. It was close enough to see the glow of its eyes, claws scrabbling on the roofs of cars, hopping, leaping towards her; she kept one eye on it and the other on the road. More horns blared as she sped up, passing a whole line of cars. She tried to slide into the leftmost lane in front of a shiny blue Porsche, but he saw what she was doing and revved the engine, cutting her off. Refusing to let her cut him off- whatever. She taunted him, keeping her turn signal on, threatening to turn; there was a two-car wake behind them. She waited until he was going fast enough to get behind- he slowed down. Fine. She made a wide right turn and slid down a side street. At that point she heard a thud.
It was heavy, claws tink-tinking on the roof, scratching glass, eyes staring down from the windshield, circling, blaring horn and jarred right onto the sidewalk, vomit in her mouth, she'd hit someone, scraped, circling on the roof looking for a way in-
The car still drove. The pedal worked, hitting the lock button on the keychain, a half-full parking lot in front of her. She had an idea.
Inside the lot, thing clawing at the door-frame, there was an open area. Relatively- gritting her teeth, she put the pedal to the floor and turned. Tires screeched as she swerved, faster, faster; its claws dug in tighter, scarring the glass in little spiderweb pinpricks. Its tail lashed in front of the windshield, five, ten, more circles than she could count, then without letting up on the accelerator, she span the car in the other direction. The monster launched off the car and hit the pavement with a sharp screech. One last time she brought the car around, just slow enough to keep control, aimed at its head.
There was a wet crunch, and another, wetter screech.
Her breath came in gulps as she and the world slowed to a stop. At some point, her eyes had started tearing up- at some point- she fetched an old fast food napkin out of the glove compartment. Mascara was running down her face, her nose needed blowing. She looked like a mess. Everything was in her purse, at home. On the overstuffed paisley chair, in the living room next to her jacket. Behind her, the monster raised one scaly paw, twitching.
Celeste slammed the car into reverse and ran it over again.
Again.
A fourth time, mostly to turn the car around- she needed to leave. A shuddering croak sounded from under the car.
Police sirens sounded in the distance as she turned back out into traffic. Cars backed out of her way or stood where they were, a symbol of triumph buried somewhere underneath everything else. The monster would still be alive- as alive as it ever was in the first place; it might come after her, it might not. If she went to Katrina or her friends, there was a greater likelihood it would come and kill them all; alone, she was largely defenseless.
The rolodex in her mind flipped a few pages; there might be someone who could safely help her. Celeste tightened her grip on the wheel and tried to blend in. Maybe at least she wouldn't get arrested.
Story: Asking for Roses
Colors: Famous #14 (He licked his lips, said to me, "girl you look good enough to eat")
Supplies and Styles: None
Word Count: 890
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of offscreen death, violence.
Summary: Last we left Celeste (back in October) she had come home to find terrible things. Jaymie tried to call her and there was no answer. So what's going on with her, anyway?
Comments, criticism, and questions are all appreciated.
It had been a relatively nice day until she had come home to find a monster perched on her wife's dead body.
Celeste had made plans for this evening. Plans to relax, after spending all day driving back and forth between clients like someone's goddamned gofer. Now she was in the car again, coatless and barefoot and feeling like a horror movie victim as she fumbled with the keys. Her mind raced faster than her body, all she could think of was don't drop them, that's always what they do, then something skittered out of her front door and up the awning and all of a sudden the key went in and she was sliding out the driveway doing 65 on instinct. Over a bush- oh well- and down the street still in reverse, missing iridescent claws by feet, inches, something like that. Another car passed her blaring its horn, and she took that opportunity to pull around and drive straight.
After all, if she got herself killed driving, said the part of herself she recognized as her mother- she might be far better off than with whatever that thing wanted, said the rest. Neither part felt the demise of her neighbor's hideous flamingo mailbox was relevant.
Celeste got out of the neighborhood in a heartbeat, somehow, and in the blur she had managed to get her seatbelt on and flick the heater down a notch without noticing she'd done so. Now she was turning onto a larger road, slowing down to join traffic, and her heart had a chance to fall down out of her throat. It wasn't a perfect chance. Traffic was heavy, she had no idea where the hell she was going, and in the rearview mirror she saw something dart, leap, far off, getting closer. The way it moved made her shudder.
She saw an opportunity and she gunned it.
Two cars blared their horns as she cut onto the road and into the left-turn lane, barely missing the red light. It was close enough to see the glow of its eyes, claws scrabbling on the roofs of cars, hopping, leaping towards her; she kept one eye on it and the other on the road. More horns blared as she sped up, passing a whole line of cars. She tried to slide into the leftmost lane in front of a shiny blue Porsche, but he saw what she was doing and revved the engine, cutting her off. Refusing to let her cut him off- whatever. She taunted him, keeping her turn signal on, threatening to turn; there was a two-car wake behind them. She waited until he was going fast enough to get behind- he slowed down. Fine. She made a wide right turn and slid down a side street. At that point she heard a thud.
It was heavy, claws tink-tinking on the roof, scratching glass, eyes staring down from the windshield, circling, blaring horn and jarred right onto the sidewalk, vomit in her mouth, she'd hit someone, scraped, circling on the roof looking for a way in-
The car still drove. The pedal worked, hitting the lock button on the keychain, a half-full parking lot in front of her. She had an idea.
Inside the lot, thing clawing at the door-frame, there was an open area. Relatively- gritting her teeth, she put the pedal to the floor and turned. Tires screeched as she swerved, faster, faster; its claws dug in tighter, scarring the glass in little spiderweb pinpricks. Its tail lashed in front of the windshield, five, ten, more circles than she could count, then without letting up on the accelerator, she span the car in the other direction. The monster launched off the car and hit the pavement with a sharp screech. One last time she brought the car around, just slow enough to keep control, aimed at its head.
There was a wet crunch, and another, wetter screech.
Her breath came in gulps as she and the world slowed to a stop. At some point, her eyes had started tearing up- at some point- she fetched an old fast food napkin out of the glove compartment. Mascara was running down her face, her nose needed blowing. She looked like a mess. Everything was in her purse, at home. On the overstuffed paisley chair, in the living room next to her jacket. Behind her, the monster raised one scaly paw, twitching.
Celeste slammed the car into reverse and ran it over again.
Again.
A fourth time, mostly to turn the car around- she needed to leave. A shuddering croak sounded from under the car.
Police sirens sounded in the distance as she turned back out into traffic. Cars backed out of her way or stood where they were, a symbol of triumph buried somewhere underneath everything else. The monster would still be alive- as alive as it ever was in the first place; it might come after her, it might not. If she went to Katrina or her friends, there was a greater likelihood it would come and kill them all; alone, she was largely defenseless.
The rolodex in her mind flipped a few pages; there might be someone who could safely help her. Celeste tightened her grip on the wheel and tried to blend in. Maybe at least she wouldn't get arrested.
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Thanks for reading.
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I have a feeling that nobody else can see these monsters...
I hope Celeste will find a way to be OK!
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Thanks for reading. :3
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I just... holy shit.
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