| "Fuck your God, your lord, your Christ. He did this, took all you had and left you this way" -Judith |
[27 Dec 2004|06:39pm] |
"Run!"
"Bu-...!"
"Just Fuckin' RUN!"
She turned on a dime at his forceful push, pointed ears pirked to the sound of his following footsteps.
It was the Apocalypse, condenced in one little riverbank. Religous, zeloted zombies caught wind of this town, and decided dogmatically that it was evil. And so they came to Exorcise the town the halfbreed girl had come to call home.
Fingers caught under her studded dog coller, and she was yanked back, falling rear end first into a bush and behind it.
"I think it's best we split up."
Her large, jade green eyes became watery at his words. "No..I can't...I-..Th-..Mum and da were...so much stronger. An'.. these fanatics skinned 'em alive." She wished she was exaderating.
But her friend grabbed her by the shoulders, silver slitted eyes forcing her focus and attention. "Look."
She crossed her eyes as he held a thin, off white object into her vision. a rolled joint. "I'll be back for this, Allheck."
The young woman, shaking, swallowed as he pushed the promised favour into her gloved palm, and shot out into the massacre.
But could she run? No. Instead, she drew her freyed jean's knees to her forhead and encompassed her legs to her body, silently weeping. She was as good as dead.
The air that passed her a few moments later was cold as death, pulling strands of her dirty, soot-soiled red hair behind it. The fervor of it caused her to look up, startled, those bright green eyes captured by a dark figure moving like broken waterdrops through the carnage, silver and red fanning and feathering out after it as it tore into the Christian mass. It turned, after slicing through a sweaty, 200 pound man like he was thin air, and rushed towards the overwhelmmed girl. She could barely make out it's face, but could see it to be thin, and masculine, a dribbleing soulpatch of fresh blood painted over his wide, fanged mouth.
He came at the young teen at hyperkeen speeds, and barely had time to let out a scream as he jumpped over her form, waiting until the final moment, until she could smell the death and fear from his breath in her own mouth.
She turned, watching him run from the slaughter and jumping into another frey, slicing a preist in three chapters with his weapons, a sort of silver cross. Frightened, but acting on instinct, the girl kicked up earth as she bolted from her haven, racing after her obscure savior.
It was silent now, this avenging shadow crouched against a well built man, lips to his ravaged neck. The sight and smells were so saturated, the girl shut her eyes tight, ears lowering as she forced herself to push back the sinful desires of the show befor and all around her.
"T-..Thank...yer.." She stuttered, nervously. These temultuous words cause the Man, who seemed quite tall and lanky, to tear his teeth, or rather fangs, the girl observed, from the carcass, and growl, hunger and a violent warning in his dark red eyes.
Wordlessly, he pushed the drained corpse away and rose with an odd, zombie like grace. He turned away from her too, a large, buckle encased hand pulling down the brim of a broken tophat.
"Who-...are ya?" Her thick english accent coated her meek question, and the man kept walking. "'Ey...wait! Thank yer!" The girl was no fool, and knew enough to know who and what the 'man' was. He was like herself in a way.
Perhaps it was the want for comaradere, or the fact that her kin and kind were pack creatures, whatever the reason, she followed the hunter.
"Yer came jes' in time...t'save me...'ow'd yer know-?"I didn't." He answered in a dull voice. "And I don't care. Go home."
The young halfbreed paused, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "I...can't. This was my home. But some Church found it..and raised it." She inhaled, shakely, bounding forward to stop him in his tracks, craining her neck up to look into his face, past the broken hat. "They jes' took it upon themselves to think we were 'evil' and _crushed_ us! GraveRiver was a holy, spiritual land! The grave-river stood for hundreds of years! But they came with their Jesus fuckin' Christ bull dozers and trucks and demolished- DISTROYED the river, the shcool, the LAND! FAMILIES! A holy burial ground which never hurt anyone suddenly ran RED with REAL BLOOD! My friends- my family!! ALL DEAD BECAUSE GOD says SO?!?!"
A beat.
"You reek of half-blood." He answered dismissivly, weaving around her form. "I'm not a trainer. You're not of my kin. I'm not going to take you in for your revenge high. So go the hell away."
As he passed her by, she spied the dull, rust-red inverted cross dangleing from his neck, sweying against his narrow ribs.
"Yer a heretic. A Blaspheemer. Ain'tcha...?"
At the mention of his talisman, the taller travler reached back lighning quick, gripping the gold cross rosery around her own neck, spinning simultaniously and drawing her near. "Are you going to chastise me, 'Christian woman'?!" He sneered. "Because it seems to me, you believe in Our Lord Jesus H Christ, the same name who caused a small army to rape your home town. So don't judge me, Magdalena!"
Her gloved, clawed hands gripped the beads as well, and she scowled, ears lowering as she knew his words to be truth. Wretching back her neck, she felt the beads pop off and drum idely to the blood soaked dirt.
"My name's Hecate Lycant." She growled. "Werewolf by blood, vampire by in-utero bite. There's no God. An if there is...his followers...are not God, and cannot decide what is right, who should live or die. It's all hypocracy. I need a place to stay...jest so I can...sort out m'head."
He dropped the reminents of her necklace, turning away from her, and once again resuming his trek.
"....Algol Bedlam." He finally answered. "And there was a Jesus. Whether he was what he said he was, I don't care or know. I've a place for you, but because of what you are, I'm not going to defend you, and if you die, It's out of my hands. Come on."
Dec 31st 2004
She had dug the chain and cross from the mud after Algol's back was turned. It was almost habitual to have the cross on her person, and Hecate Lycant just couldn't part with the trinket, not compleately.
"Damn" Her brows knotted, shadowing those bright green eyes of hers, as she once again wrapped the ruined chain round the cross.
Algol Bedlam watched from a corner, the loud booming of Peter Steele's voice throughout the chorus of 'Be my Druidess' muffleing out her curses, because headphones tended to block out white noise. Hecate's overly pointed, almost canine-like ears lowered in frustration, causing the marajuana joint, previously tucked behind her right ear, to waver, and catch the vampire's attention.
"Are you planning on smokeing that?" He asked, behind her now, and to the side. Her head shot up, slit pupils widening to grab more light.
"Eh?"
"The joint." Supplied Algol, pointing a talon-like nail against it.
"Oh." Hecate rested her progressing work in her lap, removing the object from behind her ear. "Eh...it..wos a gift from m'friend...b'fore all 'ell broke loose." She examined the thing, lids lowering, eyes growing misty at better memories. "'E said 'e'd be back t'get it."
Algol paused, considering, before he held out a hand. "Here."
Hecate looked up at him, before her eyes flicked to his open palm, then placed the joint within.
"Necklace too." He asked, and Hecate obeyed.
Algol then headed to a table, a hand passing over a candle, a cheerful flame growing off the wick where none was before. Hecate starred, amazed, as she watched Algol.
"It could get ruined between now and then." He explained generously, blowing out the wide diamater candle, and dipping the slim object into the wax, rolling it thoroughly, so that it was eavenly covered. "And Wax is an amazingly versitile perservative." Again, the elder passed his open palm over the wick, and once again it was lit, Algol set the joint aside to dry, now turning his attention to the necklace. He could see that Hecate had started an interesting attempt at inverting it, the chain entwined around the cross, but getting it to stay had eluded her.
"Gold however, is a very malliable metal. It can be crushed, flattened, bent.." Algol pinched the chain securing at the cross's T juncture, holding over the fire. "And melted."
Hecate watched the beaded chain liquify and melt, Algol pulling it from the flame, only to press the joint against it, it being a backing for the now inverted, entangled cross.
"...Who are they?" Hecate finally found the sense to ask. "An' why are yeh 'elping me, really?"
Algol cleared his throat, handing the now cooled and mended charm to the girl. "A few hundred years ago, I pissed some guy off- I think I drank his wife...anyways, he dedicated his life, and lifeblood to ridding the world of me. His whole family leniage. He had a son, son had a wife and kids, kids had kids...it grew." He shruged. "Eventually, they got a network. and decided 'Hey! Why stop at Algol Bedlam!? They should all die. They're not of God."
"So..It's cause o' you." Hecate stated in slow discomfort.
"..I suppose it is." He confessed. "They call themselves the 'Sect of Holy Exorcism'. They re-wrote portions of the Bible to justify what they do. It's a hyper-cracked out version of Christianity."
"An'..Why take me in?"
Algol smirked, the first real pleased expression Hecate had ever seen him indulge in. "Just to piss them off more. They hurt me, I plan on hurting them back."
"'Ow'd they 'urt ya?"
Algol paused, his grin fading. With a sudden expulsion of breath from his lungs, he extingquished the candle, turning away. "It's going to be dawn soon. You should get some sleep. You've had a long night."
Hecate watched as he headed back his corner, a beat up armchair welcoming him. He spun it, facing its back to the girl.
Then they sat in silence.
|
|
relieved
depressed
calm
cynical
accomplished
thoughtful
awake
bouncy