Well Aimed Chaos (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whitemage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-08-07 09:15 pm
whitemage) wrote in rainbowfic2014-08-07 09:15 pm
Surgical Steel #6; Bone #11; Fire Opal #9
Author: Ardy
Piece/story: Meeting a Monster/Blood Saint
Color: Surgical Steel 6 (scalpel); Bone 11 (body bag); Fire Opal 9 (adrenaline)
Styles/Supplies: Stain: “Let us make a special effort to stop communicating with each other, so we can have some conversation.”
Word Count: 1379
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13: language, violence; Warnings - Impalement, shooting, violence to the eyes
Notes: I hate the name ‘Draculeans’ but let’s just go with the easy camp of it for now. It's not like we're shying away from other vampire media cliches.
The next time the Draculeans came up in the news, it wasn’t just in the county, but much closer to home--Mountain Home, that is.
The authorities caught one of them: young white man, slicked back blonde hair, three bullet wounds in his chest. Dead on the scene, the same as the girl. Her boyfriend had been the shooter. I watched him staring holes in the black plastic bags, many miles away for so close a call.
They left the body intact at the Baxter County Coroner’s office. From my stake out in the cafe down the street, I had been able to hear a couple of them talking about being ordered to hold off the autopsy until federal investigators decided if this was really related to the Memphis cases, or just another copycat.
He was large and stocky--it took everything I had to work the drawer open--but still possessed a certain vulnerability to him as he lay there cold, pale, cyanotic around his lips. He had a startling resemblance to the Hollywood bodies made up on the crime dramas I like to watch, which left me mystified. Shouldn’t he be more… grotesque? I’d seen death before, and it wasn’t half this pretty.
The explanation came when he opened his eyes and grinned as I sucked in a scream. I backed away from the drawer as he fought his way out of it, flinging it and the bag with a snarl. Suddenly, breaking into the morgue was the worst idea ever--now why couldn’t I have felt this way before being confronted with an apparent member of the undead?
I ran from the room, and into the first open door I could find in the hall, ducking behind a desk. I tried desperately to control my breathing, silently praying.
“Aw, c’mon, don’t say you woke me up for nothin’, baby.” I could hear a growl in his voice, his shuffling footsteps stopping every so often, followed by the ping of a bullet he had pulled from his body hitting the floor.
He was getting closer, sniffing the air. “Boy, oh, boy, how I love delivery.” A chuckle. ‘I know you ain’t left yet.”
My mind flickered through what I had seen on the desk. Easing back up, I grabbed the open box of scalpel blades, fishing in the drawers for a handle. None appeared.
I scooted further under the desk as he drew closer, opening a handful of the blades. My pulse was pounding in my ears, seconds slowing down. lingering as if they were eking out just as much life as they could for me before I met my tragic end. Facing down death from illness is like a sinking, slipping feeling, but this was a very different surge of panic.
The good news, though, was this feeling made me bold. As much as it might have me evaluating my previous life choices, my brain refused to veto any future plans that gave me the mildest chance of survival.
“BOO!” He slammed his hands on the desk, careening over it to laugh at me. Already in position, I jammed my carefully armed fists directly into his eyes, leaving four blades behind. He might be hard to kill, but he could bleed.
Surprised that actually worked, I hesitated for a few seconds as he flailed. He grabbed the desk and it began to inch towards him as he arched his back. Taking quick advantage, I slammed all my slight weight against it to leverage the movement, and ended up assisting him in pinning himself to the wall with the furniture.
Sprinting at a speed that amazed even me, I took off with him eventually roaring behind me. He grabbed me as I reached the pick-up bed, but I had already locked on to what I wanted. Propped against the truck, I began kicking him to keep him far enough away so I could beat his head in with Sophie’s ballbat. He tumbled, it broke, and I met him with the sharp end inches from his chest.
“Whoa, hey! I give, I give! You’re too much trouble for a meal, bitch.” What a jerk. He didn’t drop the vampire persona for a single second, right up through my makeshift stake appearing.
“And you’re a role-playing thug! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” This would have been an excellent time to climb in the cab, but now that the terror was ending with him slowly backing away, rage was taking over.
“Lotta shit?” I made a stab at him, and he danced back into the alley, bewildered.
“You killed my cousin! Josephine is dead because of you!” Tears were welling up.
“Guy’s gotta eat, babe.” Though he was my best chance for answers, I ran him through, not surprised when he dropped stone cold rather than poofing to a billow of ash.
Idiots.
Piece/story: Meeting a Monster/Blood Saint
Color: Surgical Steel 6 (scalpel); Bone 11 (body bag); Fire Opal 9 (adrenaline)
Styles/Supplies: Stain: “Let us make a special effort to stop communicating with each other, so we can have some conversation.”
Word Count: 1379
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13: language, violence; Warnings - Impalement, shooting, violence to the eyes
Notes: I hate the name ‘Draculeans’ but let’s just go with the easy camp of it for now. It's not like we're shying away from other vampire media cliches.
The next time the Draculeans came up in the news, it wasn’t just in the county, but much closer to home--Mountain Home, that is.
The authorities caught one of them: young white man, slicked back blonde hair, three bullet wounds in his chest. Dead on the scene, the same as the girl. Her boyfriend had been the shooter. I watched him staring holes in the black plastic bags, many miles away for so close a call.
They left the body intact at the Baxter County Coroner’s office. From my stake out in the cafe down the street, I had been able to hear a couple of them talking about being ordered to hold off the autopsy until federal investigators decided if this was really related to the Memphis cases, or just another copycat.
He was large and stocky--it took everything I had to work the drawer open--but still possessed a certain vulnerability to him as he lay there cold, pale, cyanotic around his lips. He had a startling resemblance to the Hollywood bodies made up on the crime dramas I like to watch, which left me mystified. Shouldn’t he be more… grotesque? I’d seen death before, and it wasn’t half this pretty.
The explanation came when he opened his eyes and grinned as I sucked in a scream. I backed away from the drawer as he fought his way out of it, flinging it and the bag with a snarl. Suddenly, breaking into the morgue was the worst idea ever--now why couldn’t I have felt this way before being confronted with an apparent member of the undead?
I ran from the room, and into the first open door I could find in the hall, ducking behind a desk. I tried desperately to control my breathing, silently praying.
“Aw, c’mon, don’t say you woke me up for nothin’, baby.” I could hear a growl in his voice, his shuffling footsteps stopping every so often, followed by the ping of a bullet he had pulled from his body hitting the floor.
He was getting closer, sniffing the air. “Boy, oh, boy, how I love delivery.” A chuckle. ‘I know you ain’t left yet.”
My mind flickered through what I had seen on the desk. Easing back up, I grabbed the open box of scalpel blades, fishing in the drawers for a handle. None appeared.
I scooted further under the desk as he drew closer, opening a handful of the blades. My pulse was pounding in my ears, seconds slowing down. lingering as if they were eking out just as much life as they could for me before I met my tragic end. Facing down death from illness is like a sinking, slipping feeling, but this was a very different surge of panic.
The good news, though, was this feeling made me bold. As much as it might have me evaluating my previous life choices, my brain refused to veto any future plans that gave me the mildest chance of survival.
“BOO!” He slammed his hands on the desk, careening over it to laugh at me. Already in position, I jammed my carefully armed fists directly into his eyes, leaving four blades behind. He might be hard to kill, but he could bleed.
Surprised that actually worked, I hesitated for a few seconds as he flailed. He grabbed the desk and it began to inch towards him as he arched his back. Taking quick advantage, I slammed all my slight weight against it to leverage the movement, and ended up assisting him in pinning himself to the wall with the furniture.
Sprinting at a speed that amazed even me, I took off with him eventually roaring behind me. He grabbed me as I reached the pick-up bed, but I had already locked on to what I wanted. Propped against the truck, I began kicking him to keep him far enough away so I could beat his head in with Sophie’s ballbat. He tumbled, it broke, and I met him with the sharp end inches from his chest.
“Whoa, hey! I give, I give! You’re too much trouble for a meal, bitch.” What a jerk. He didn’t drop the vampire persona for a single second, right up through my makeshift stake appearing.
“And you’re a role-playing thug! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” This would have been an excellent time to climb in the cab, but now that the terror was ending with him slowly backing away, rage was taking over.
“Lotta shit?” I made a stab at him, and he danced back into the alley, bewildered.
“You killed my cousin! Josephine is dead because of you!” Tears were welling up.
“Guy’s gotta eat, babe.” Though he was my best chance for answers, I ran him through, not surprised when he dropped stone cold rather than poofing to a billow of ash.
Idiots.
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There's a stretch of scenes I'm working on between this and her biting their head dude, but things really do kind of escalate quickly. :U
Though she kills a lot of vampires even after becoming a vampire, so there's that.
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This sucked to write because I could see it in my head but then how do you actions into worrrds?