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Nov. 11th, 2004 12:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ragdoll1323,662 words so far tonight.
My heart thudded painfully in my chest and I felt the blood drain from my face in a cold wash of realization. The cold, wet steel of the knife blade scraped against the skin of my throat, a palpable warning. The man who had grabbed me now had his hand burried in my hair, pulling my head back, and all I was able to see from this position was the tops of trees, the upper storeys of the surrounding buildings and an irregular patch of dirty grey sky. I had never realized before this moment how effective it is to immobilize someone's head; I thought rationally that I should be able to move the rest of my body, but the rest of my body refused to follow when my face was not leading.
The person holding me was a living human. I could feel his chest rise and fall against my back, and feel the warmth where the wrist of his knife hand touched me. He felt very strong, but I suppose there could be a psychological factor in effect there. He smelled sour with lack of bathing, and his breath stank. The fact that he was a living person was comforting to me... it was a relief to know that I wouldn't have to confront the waking nightmare of the living dead. However, live humans are more intelligent, more cunning, and quicker than the dead.
This fact had never been more evident than it was right then. One of the shambling zombies would not have hidden in the alleyway, would not have grabbed my arm out of the shadows and twisted it behind my back, would not have known which member of our little group would have made the most effective hostage. I felt betrayed by my gender, and in my current position I couldn't even guage the reaction of my traveling companions. I was worried that the situation would fast become a powder keg. I swallowed gingerly against the blade and prayed that neither Chance nor James would do anything foolhardy.
"Well, well, look what we have here," the man said. His voice was unpleasant and shrill, but that could've been a product of the stressful situation. "She's so pretty, she sure doesn't need a second smile. It'd be a shame if I had to carve her one."
The now-familiar sound of the pump action shotgun echoed in the ensuing silence, the sound bouncing from empty building to empty building.
"Let her go." The voice was Chance's.
"Okay," the man said, "but not just yet. How about y'all put the shotgun down on the ground, along with anything else you got on you."
"Oh, Christ," said James disgustedly, "it's the end of the world and we're getting mugged."
"Here's a deal. You get nothing, and if you let the girl go, I might just not blow your fucking brains out." Chance's voice was as steady as stone and as cold as ice. I was proud of him. There was a moment of silence, and I think that the man was going over the events in his head, trying to determine what exactly had gone wrong.
"If you think I won't kill her," the man said, "that's a mistake."
I heard another gun cock.
"Son, you ain't that dumb. You know the minute you draw a single drop of that girl's blood, these two young men're gonna shoot you dead." That was Peter. I supposed that the pistol in Chance's waistband had found it's way into James's hands. He'd never shot a gun in his life, and silently I hoped he was a good actor.
I could almost hear the man behind me sweating in the silence.
There was a crunching sound as someone took a step forward. I yelped as the man's grip on my hair tightened and the knife pressed against my skin, drawing a thin line of blood across my throat. I was starting to get really nervous. The knife was very sharp, and this jackass could easily kill me by accident at this point. I started holding my breath. This standoff could not go on much longer.
I heard Chance chuckle. Another crunching step. At this point I was of the opinion that he was playing a very dangerous game.
Another step.
The knife hand was wrenched away from my throat and I took my cue, twisting out of the way, leaving a fistful of hair behind. There were the sounds of a scuffle behind me, and then the shotgun fired.
I turned around.
The man leaned against the wall of a building, doubled over. The reek of gunpowder stained the air.
"You asshole!" The man said, straightening. "You killed me! You fucking made me one of them!" He tightened his grip on the handle of the knife and charged Chance.
What I was trying to do was grab the man's knife hand and deflect it, to keep him from hurting anyone. Chance had been taken by surprise and was trying to work the shotgun, but something was wrong with it. I succeeded in grabbing his wrist, but before I could move it, my arm crumpled under his strength, and the knifepoint plunged into the fleshy part of my shoulder, grinding against my collarbone. The nine millimeter fired next to me, and my ears rang. I stumbled, and I started to fall. I tried to break my fall, but my arm wasn't working right. I saw the look on Chance's face before my head bounced off the concrete, and it chilled me to the bone.
"Well," said a familiar voice, "that was quite a fall. I hope one of your little friends knows some good first aid."
I opened my eyes, and I was standing in the black room. Abaddon lounged in the corner, confident and smirking and beautiful.
"Why..." I began.
"Oh, I was waiting for you to go to sleep tonight, but I suppose this will do. Being here is a lot more pleasant than being there right now, I'm sure."
The implication that this room was a real place and that I was no longer in my physical body was not lost on me.
"I find it incredible that you will go through so much for a man who treats you so terribly, Rachel," he said, his voice sympathetic. He started padding towards me, and I noticed he was barefoot. I stood, transfixed, and he walked right up to me. He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers like a whisper, he brilliant green eyes kind. "You don't have to go through this, you know."
And he bent his head to mine and kissed me. His kiss was gentle, demanding nothing, only offering. He moved his head to my ear, and his hair under my cheek was heavy and silken, and he smelled of smoke and wild places. Whispering, he said, "all he can offer you is damnation, Rachel. I can give you everything." He pulled my unresisting body closer, and his hands left trails of fire on my skin. "I can give you power unimaginable, pleasures beyond the wildest imaginings of mortals," he breathed, his breath cool against my flushed skin. He nuzzled my neck; his lips were moist and soft.
"Submit to me, Rachel," he said, his voice like a snake's hiss in my ear. "Submit to me and gain the world and all it's pleasures. You would be a queen, second only to the Lord of Lies in power."
I was having a very hard time thinking. My mind was hazy. I had never responded to a man like this before. My fingers felt numb and clumsy, I felt his hair against my palms and wondered when I had lifted my hands. My head rolled back on my neck and I whispered, "Abaddon."
I felt his lips smile against my ear. "Submit, Rachel, and all of this suffering can end."
My heart thudded painfully in my chest and I felt the blood drain from my face in a cold wash of realization. The cold, wet steel of the knife blade scraped against the skin of my throat, a palpable warning. The man who had grabbed me now had his hand burried in my hair, pulling my head back, and all I was able to see from this position was the tops of trees, the upper storeys of the surrounding buildings and an irregular patch of dirty grey sky. I had never realized before this moment how effective it is to immobilize someone's head; I thought rationally that I should be able to move the rest of my body, but the rest of my body refused to follow when my face was not leading.
The person holding me was a living human. I could feel his chest rise and fall against my back, and feel the warmth where the wrist of his knife hand touched me. He felt very strong, but I suppose there could be a psychological factor in effect there. He smelled sour with lack of bathing, and his breath stank. The fact that he was a living person was comforting to me... it was a relief to know that I wouldn't have to confront the waking nightmare of the living dead. However, live humans are more intelligent, more cunning, and quicker than the dead.
This fact had never been more evident than it was right then. One of the shambling zombies would not have hidden in the alleyway, would not have grabbed my arm out of the shadows and twisted it behind my back, would not have known which member of our little group would have made the most effective hostage. I felt betrayed by my gender, and in my current position I couldn't even guage the reaction of my traveling companions. I was worried that the situation would fast become a powder keg. I swallowed gingerly against the blade and prayed that neither Chance nor James would do anything foolhardy.
"Well, well, look what we have here," the man said. His voice was unpleasant and shrill, but that could've been a product of the stressful situation. "She's so pretty, she sure doesn't need a second smile. It'd be a shame if I had to carve her one."
The now-familiar sound of the pump action shotgun echoed in the ensuing silence, the sound bouncing from empty building to empty building.
"Let her go." The voice was Chance's.
"Okay," the man said, "but not just yet. How about y'all put the shotgun down on the ground, along with anything else you got on you."
"Oh, Christ," said James disgustedly, "it's the end of the world and we're getting mugged."
"Here's a deal. You get nothing, and if you let the girl go, I might just not blow your fucking brains out." Chance's voice was as steady as stone and as cold as ice. I was proud of him. There was a moment of silence, and I think that the man was going over the events in his head, trying to determine what exactly had gone wrong.
"If you think I won't kill her," the man said, "that's a mistake."
I heard another gun cock.
"Son, you ain't that dumb. You know the minute you draw a single drop of that girl's blood, these two young men're gonna shoot you dead." That was Peter. I supposed that the pistol in Chance's waistband had found it's way into James's hands. He'd never shot a gun in his life, and silently I hoped he was a good actor.
I could almost hear the man behind me sweating in the silence.
There was a crunching sound as someone took a step forward. I yelped as the man's grip on my hair tightened and the knife pressed against my skin, drawing a thin line of blood across my throat. I was starting to get really nervous. The knife was very sharp, and this jackass could easily kill me by accident at this point. I started holding my breath. This standoff could not go on much longer.
I heard Chance chuckle. Another crunching step. At this point I was of the opinion that he was playing a very dangerous game.
Another step.
The knife hand was wrenched away from my throat and I took my cue, twisting out of the way, leaving a fistful of hair behind. There were the sounds of a scuffle behind me, and then the shotgun fired.
I turned around.
The man leaned against the wall of a building, doubled over. The reek of gunpowder stained the air.
"You asshole!" The man said, straightening. "You killed me! You fucking made me one of them!" He tightened his grip on the handle of the knife and charged Chance.
What I was trying to do was grab the man's knife hand and deflect it, to keep him from hurting anyone. Chance had been taken by surprise and was trying to work the shotgun, but something was wrong with it. I succeeded in grabbing his wrist, but before I could move it, my arm crumpled under his strength, and the knifepoint plunged into the fleshy part of my shoulder, grinding against my collarbone. The nine millimeter fired next to me, and my ears rang. I stumbled, and I started to fall. I tried to break my fall, but my arm wasn't working right. I saw the look on Chance's face before my head bounced off the concrete, and it chilled me to the bone.
"Well," said a familiar voice, "that was quite a fall. I hope one of your little friends knows some good first aid."
I opened my eyes, and I was standing in the black room. Abaddon lounged in the corner, confident and smirking and beautiful.
"Why..." I began.
"Oh, I was waiting for you to go to sleep tonight, but I suppose this will do. Being here is a lot more pleasant than being there right now, I'm sure."
The implication that this room was a real place and that I was no longer in my physical body was not lost on me.
"I find it incredible that you will go through so much for a man who treats you so terribly, Rachel," he said, his voice sympathetic. He started padding towards me, and I noticed he was barefoot. I stood, transfixed, and he walked right up to me. He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers like a whisper, he brilliant green eyes kind. "You don't have to go through this, you know."
And he bent his head to mine and kissed me. His kiss was gentle, demanding nothing, only offering. He moved his head to my ear, and his hair under my cheek was heavy and silken, and he smelled of smoke and wild places. Whispering, he said, "all he can offer you is damnation, Rachel. I can give you everything." He pulled my unresisting body closer, and his hands left trails of fire on my skin. "I can give you power unimaginable, pleasures beyond the wildest imaginings of mortals," he breathed, his breath cool against my flushed skin. He nuzzled my neck; his lips were moist and soft.
"Submit to me, Rachel," he said, his voice like a snake's hiss in my ear. "Submit to me and gain the world and all it's pleasures. You would be a queen, second only to the Lord of Lies in power."
I was having a very hard time thinking. My mind was hazy. I had never responded to a man like this before. My fingers felt numb and clumsy, I felt his hair against my palms and wondered when I had lifted my hands. My head rolled back on my neck and I whispered, "Abaddon."
I felt his lips smile against my ear. "Submit, Rachel, and all of this suffering can end."
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 01:31 am (UTC)Getting better--smoother, more natural--with each installment. :)
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Date: 2004-11-11 07:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 10:44 pm (UTC)Of course, if it turns out great, I'll be throwing them around like frisbees!
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Date: 2004-11-11 11:27 pm (UTC)