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Where There Is Fire, We Will Carry Gasoline; Private thread. Trust me, it's worth it.
Topic Started: Oct 11 2010, 02:03 PM (1,275 Views)
Namira
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Kris continued from Clap For The Killers))

Where…?

How long had she been here? Stumbling along with no destination, no direction? Kris was alone but for- she was alone. Since that building next to the sawmill… it seemed like days, it seemed like minutes. It seemed a distant memory, it seemed close enough to touch and taste.

Taste…

Her mouth tasted of blood. She could feel it there, welling up between her teeth, on her tongue… Kris raised an arm and wiped her lips with the back of it, tried not to look at the bright crimson stain it left behind on her skin. It didn’t help, the taste remained. She wanted to spit, but shied from the idea. Kris was afraid of what would happen if she did.

That sounded bizarre, when she actually thought about it closely. There was blood, if she spat, it would get rid of it, right? A nameless, senseless fear gripped her to consider it. Kris tried to shove it out of her mind and ignore the foul taste. Tried to get a sense of where she actually was. Stumps, the corpses of trees… they stretched out before her in every direction. The ground was… it was… odd?

This isn’t…

Kris blinked. That was ridiculous. There was nothing up with the ground. Just dirt and whatever random branches had snapped from the trees when they had been felled. bones. Blinked again. Completely ordinary. Just dirt.

Dirt… that was exactly on Kris’ level, wasn’t it? Probably above her, even. She’d wanted to shoot at those guys back in the building, wanted dearly. Her threats hadn’t been so empty when made. There was the hope that they would flee, of course, but within that, the hope that they’d stay; the hope that they’d give her the opportunity to pull that trigger. At the thought of that… of firing, of seeing the blood spurting once again, to see somebody drop to the ground, screaming in agony…

Something smiled… at what? …Where?

Kris shook her head. Why did her eyes feel blurred? Everything seemed so indistinct. She needed an anchor, something to clear her head. Something…

Click click click click…

Something came rattling towards her, rolling across the bones branches. Kris frowned and looked down at it, cocking her head to one side for a few seconds, as if not quite…

“N-no… that’s not… that isn’t…”

I’m lookin’ for something something to to to chow down on!

S-skate!?

You yyyyyou know where Iiiiii can find somumumthing?

The skateboard crumbled. It was rotted, decrepit. The tape was peeling and the wheels were cracked. It fell apart before her eyes. Kris looked up from it and she screamed. There were bones amongst the tree stumps, far as they eye could see, bleached white, intact, splintered off, merest fragments. Kris tried to turn around, flee, but her feet caught in them and she went clattering to the ground with a crash of gravedust. And all the while, she kept screaming…

Ddddead. Murrrrrrrderrrrr.
Edited by Namira, Oct 11 2010, 02:58 PM.
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Everywhere, they were everywhere. Bones, the grave. All over her, all around her, on top of her, suffocating her with the taste of corpses. Kris screamed again and she desperately spat out what was so defiling her mouth. With it, came that same tang of blood that she'd had before and suddenly, Kris had the feeling that she'd made a mistake. A clear thought, cutting through the confusion and the malaise before primal fear once again swamped her.

Heyyy, hhhold on a minute! I'mI'mI'mI'm not gonna hurrrrrt you ooooor anything lllike that, rally!

What ultimately emerged from her mouth looked a little pathetic really. Just a few drops of blood, watered down by saliva, spattering tamely onto one of the bones scattered across the ground between stumps. Kris almost relaxed, then did a double take of such huge proportions that it would have been hilarious, but for the utterly horrified look on her face. The bone was no longer a mere section of skeleton. It had transformed. It was a skull, complete with the blood dripping down its brow. Was it her, or had the fluid become thicker, redder?

Kris knew it wasn't just her.

C'mon, you okay over there?

The grinning skull, the bleached white surface now streaked with fat runnels of crimson, twitched. The damn thing was moving. Kris watched, sick with fear, as the head cotinued to shift around on the ground, then actually departed from it, lifting itself into the air. Almost instinctly, Kris' hand went to her side, drew her pistol. She felt that familiar feeling of the gun's teeth grasping at her palm, latching on, grafting to her, and it... was a comfort. The skull lifted itself higher in the air, now all but covered in crimson, yet Kris was now undaunted, because she had something of her own. Kris saw the dark, spiked tendrils of the weapon weave their way into her hand, her forearm, bonding to her and far from recoiling... the girl gave a full and broad smile. The gun in her hand, the black tentacles burrowing into and emerging from her skin, they looked right. They felt right.

Belonging.

If you need any help or anything, I can-

Kris was still smiling when she pulled the trigger and blew the levitating skull into a million tiny pieces.
Edited by Namira, Oct 12 2010, 05:53 PM.
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Relief. Shattered skull. Nothing but shards. Safety. Over.

Kris’ smile didn’t fade as the report of the gunshot died away, her pistol giving her a welcoming pulse, as if in reassurance. She could feel herself calming down, her heartbeat steadying. The spectre had been dealt with, the SIG-Sauer had seen to that. The skater watched with a sort of idle curiosity as the spiny tendrils emerging from her weapon thickened slightly, then lengthened, creeping their way up through the flesh of her arm burrowing in and out, in and out. There was no feeling of intrusion or pain, just like a natural extension of herself…

They had reached her elbow now, Kris’ entire forearm suffused with snaking, barbed little vines that she regarded with a pleased smile that…

W-wait... Kris, right?

Kris jolted and reeled back, as if struck a blow by some invisible force. The smile vanished, replaced with a trembling pair of lips. Kris began to shake, pupils dilating. Beneath her feet and all around her, the field of bones was fading, fading away…

Kris, right?

The coiling tentacles on her arm drew back from the crook of her elbow, and then dived straight into the meat of her forearm. This time, it actually hurt and Kris let out a strangled gasp as blood began to well up around where the tendrils were burrowing into her. At every place they disappeared into her body, it began bleeding. Kris grasped at the vines, tried to tear them away, but they were immovable, almost grafted to her.

Kris

The world… disintegrated. Night and the moon gave way to bright dawn, the bones vanished, the odd mist burned away instantaneously. Kris found herself standing amongst tree stumps, but on mere dirt, and instead of a shattered skull at her feet, there was…

Albert Lions sprawled on the dusty ground, just barely sitting up, somehow managing to smile through the blood streaming down his chin. He choked out words, conciliatory reassurances that fell dead in the air. Kris heard Al, but what he was trying to say didn’t register, not properly. She dropped to one knee.

“Didn’t… didn’t know it was… didn’t mean to… the skull,” Kris couldn’t muster a voice louder than a murmur, and all the attempted excuses rang false. Awake all night, not exactly lucid, frightened of a levitating spectre… none of them were real reasons.

Somewhere, she’d known that it was Al there.

“I’m so… I’m so fucking so-“ Kris stopped. Al wasn’t breathing. A smile was on his face, and he wasn’t breathing. The skater wore an almost comical look of surprise as she looked at the dead boy, then she let out a sound that was something between a sob and a laugh.

Kris stood up, turned away from the body, and set off walking again.

The weight of the gun in her palm was a comfort.

((Kris continued in Lean On Me))
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