Jump to content

[Fiction] Contested Thralls

The White Rat

Recommended Posts

October 31: Halloween - 2300 hours, Place: East St. Louis

There was a chill wind in the air as the two figures appeared from the warp. They arrived in a poorer section of the city, with its streets dotted by dilapidated buildings. In these half ruined structures, figures shuffled, and occasionally grabbed and tugged at one another. Every once in a while an angry gutteral snarl could be heard, as they preyed on one another; stealing, and beating their way to the top of their food chain.

It was to this setting, that the two came. For them, gathering Thralls for the newest round of experiments would be easy.


The plans had been designed a week earlier. It was going to be a routine 'snatch and grap' operation. They would enter the location, and seek out five targets. There, using a dart gun with traquilizers, they would drug and bind their soon to be thralls. The bound and drugged people, were to be collected at a central location. At that time, a warp would be opened, and the new thralls captured.

Thrall collection was planned for Halloween night. Not only would they blend in with the costumed partygoers, but the mythology surrounding the night would also serve a function. If mythical monsters and spirits could walk among the living, so would the real ones. One of them in particular, was truly monstrous; he was no longer human, or humane. He was a ruthless, sadistic, mad and coldly rational beast. Tonight, the myths of Halloween would become reality.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Morrigan moved through her land, a shadows that was darker and more complete than the night around her - save those burning, glowing eyes. Even those people in East St. Louis who had done nothing wrong shivered if they caught sight of those crimson orbs.

For her, there was something in the air tonight, some angry snap to the wind that had her on edge. It was almost as if something were threatening her, yet when she sought it, it disappeared in the shadows. She growled, a low rumble of displeasure that would have warned off any baseline nearby, had there been a baseline to hear it. Even some novas would be taken aback by the feral noise that radiated from the black-haired nova.

Another sharp change in the wind brought a new scent to her, and the Morrigan stopped on the edge of a burnt-out building, turning her head toward the smell. It was a mixture of sickness and pain, and another growl issued from her lips. It was also the unnatural smell of power, of something that didn't belong in this world: a nova.

She had an invader in her territory.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The collection was proceeding smoothly. They had four of the five desired human subjects bound and gagged. They were almost ready for transport back to the compound. The final, soon to be thrall, was a toothless and filthy vagrant, who smelt of sour milk and urine. The white hairy figure, was extremely rough with the man, and the bindings made his wrists bleed. Groans issued from the toothless maw, which were accompanied by the scent of his rotting gumbs.

Finally, when the bindings were finished, the mis-shapen white beast grinned evilly. His eyes surveyed the interior of the burn-out bulding with satisfaction. It made for an excellent staging area for future cullings of the local homeless community. They had not been discovered.

He sat back, idily tossing bricks at the bound vagrants, as he waited for his companion to finish packing up their supplies. He chuckled quietly to himself, everytime a vagrant made an "oomph', as the brick struck him. After several minutes of entertaining himself at the filthy bums expense, he queried his companion. "Are we done yet?"

"Just a few more minutes. Then I will open a warp, and you can take your zips back, to do what you want with them." The other nova seemed irritated at being questioned. "To be frank, I don't really agree with what you plan on doing, but that is your thing. I just hope the next time that they choose someone a little more sympathetic to you, to help you gather specimines for your experiments."

"If I could do this alone, I would". The wrinkled albino stated without expression. "But you know that I can no longer gather specimines from the existing thralls near the sanctuary. Apparently some feel that we need them to get us supplies and to be our eyes and ears. Personally, I would prefer to implale their bodies and line them along the highway to frighten passing zips."

"You are seriously loosing it, Rat" the other nova laughed. "But then again, none of us really cares much for the monkeys anyways, and terrifying them does have its appeal."

The skeltoid nova then continued, "I'm almost done, and we can head back. Then you can have your fun."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Morrigan followed the diseased scent, working her way through a char-lined hole in the wall into the building. With supernatural stealth, she made her way down to the lower levels, testing the air with her nose while her red eyes searched all the shadows to try to find her intruder.

They were on the ground floor, and she paused to assess the situation. Two of the most inhuman opponants she had ever seen were torturing bound humans, and her eyes narrowed in anger. Slitting them further to avoid their glow giving her position away, she peeled her coat off so that it wouldn't impede her. That left her in an oversized LCCC sweatshirt and two layers of sweat pants. The boots on her feet were cracked and worn, but she left them on.

She saw the white form pause in his brick-tossing, and start to raise his head. Somehow, he knew she was here. It was time to act, she knew; quickly before she lost her element of surprise. She reached into herself and released her power, triggering her speed.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She's there in a blink of his eye, had he had lids to blink with anymore. She stared at the unwavering red eyes, as sinister as her own. She saw him shift and prepare, and she casually drew her super-fast fist back to strike him.

An in-drawn breath gave her a scent, and the Morrigan froze in shock. She didn't really remember this scent, but it invoked a sure sense of familiarity. She knew this scent, better than she knew her own. It brought back hazy memories of pain and comfort both, of a voice just on the edge of her perception.

But more than that, she knew, with perfect understanding, that he'd have answers for her.

But that moment cost her, altering her swing and throwing her off. Her perfect balance allowed her to retain her footing, but she missed the white man completely. Regaining her stance, she prepared for an attack that never came. When she realized that, she drew forth her weapons, allowing the dripping blood starting to pool down her body to form into a short spear.

Which one!? Which one is the one that smells so familiar?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It moved at a blur. Rat barely had time to get his feet planted before the red-eyed nova came at him. It was moving at an accelerated rate, and he studied its quantum signature. He hoped he could gaining some immunity from it by altering his energies to look like his assailants. He was not moving and his opponent should have struck him handily. But for some inexplicable reason it misssed. It was as if it was confused or distracted.

As his opponents fists flailed past his head, Rat began to shout shout directions to his ally. "Start shoving the bodies through the warp! I'll cover you!"

He put himself between his ally, who was picking up the bodies for transport, and the attacking nova, who now had spears protruding from its hands.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

They were taking people. The Morrigan had to stop this now. She needed that person with the familiar scent; she needed the answers that would come from that particular combination of cigar smoke and drugs. She released more energy and lunged at her opponant.

He stood his ground like a madman. Her spear cut deeply, slicing through flesh and bone alike, but when she stepped back to set for her next attack, she noticed that there was less damage than there should have been. The Morrigan wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she had to keep trying to rescue these people. And not just because she needed the owner of that familiar scent; because these were her people. No one had the right to come and take them away from her.

Her spear struck true and deep again, and again, there was less damage than there should have been. She could feel the damage she was doing; it wasn't like he was too tough to pierce, but every time she stepped back, there was less damage than there should have been. This one was hard to hurt, but she had dealt with that before. The way to defeat him was to keep picking away at him, to keep cutting him down, inch by inch if necessary.

She prepared for his retalitory attack, waiting with the patience of the hunter through what seemed to be an eternal wait. Why did he not attack her?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

When her first spear hit, he could feel it pushing through his flesh and muscle. It was horrifying in its efficiency, because it passed by what little protection his tough hide afforded. It bit deep into his tissues. His body, however, responded like it always did. In response to such a violent invasion of his flesh and bone, his body absorbed, and converted the damage with his quantum energies.

Again, she struck. And again her spears cut into him. Her speed was incredible, and he had no choice but to take her blows. This time, however, his body was already fluidic, so her effectiveness was reduced. It was his response to her previous attack. Now, he did not need to expend as much energy absorbing her blows. Still, he was badly bruised and bleeding from multiple wounds. It was now his turn.

Synchronizing one's own quantum signature to that of someone elses, is like matching a paint color. The closer you get to that other novas 'color', the greater the immunity to their attacks. Rat could see her color. He knew what subtle changes he needed to make.

The quantum burst through his node, altering his signature until it matched hers. It was not an exact duplicate, but would be enough to protect him from her spears and any other surprises that she brought. He needed to hold her off until Skelter could get some of the thralls through the warp.

Rat was concerned, however. In only one round, he had spent a tremendous amount of energy. If he didn't do something, soon, he would find himself exchanging life for energy, rather than energy for life. Eventually, he would be weak and helpless, with neither to draw upon.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She had to keep pressing him, pounding him down inch by inch. She needed to move faster. More precious energy was released internally, and the world slowed still more, leaving her a whirlwind of destruction in the center of the room. Her blood spears became a blur of red as she moved almost too fast to see, slashing at White Rat.

But she surprised both of them when she turned on Skelter. The skeletonoid nova jerked backwards in surprise as flashing spears slammed into him. With a scream, the now-badly wounded nova stumbled backwards desperately. Both White Rat and the Morrigan could see that the gangly nova was about to break; his eyes darted from the nearest unconscious form, to the warpgate and to the fighting novas. They both saw the moment that he decided to break.

The Morrigan didn't pay him anymore attention; he was injured and no longer a factor on the field of battle. She still didn't put her back to him, but he was gone; his fighting spirit was broken. He was dead inside. The Morrigan knew what it was to run away from battle, and what that meant to one's spirit.

With an angry snarl, she turned back on the White Rat. Again she struck, and again, she did very little damage. He seemed to be absorbing her blows and taking them into his body. And with each strike, he seems to fade further. She had never fought anyone like this before.

It should make driving him from her lands all the sweeter.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She now moved so fat, White Rat couldn't see her anymore. He knew she was still there, however, because hw could feel the slash of her spears. Fortunately, their effectiveness was reduced and he could manage the damage they were dealing...for now.

Skelter had finished tossing the second vagrant through the warp, and moved to get a third. Suddenly, he let out a scream, as blood sprayed from his bony body. He began backpedaling from the blow, his eyes now filled with uncertainty and fear. It looked like Skelter was now thinking of self-preservation.

Before he could even react, another spear bit into Rat's flesh. This blow skewered his arm, just missing his brachial artery. Rat knew, even with his monstrously tough body and remarkable absorptive abilities, that he would eventually fall under the torrent of blows. He had to speed himself up, and he could'nt yet use his stongest power to do it, because he needed Skelter mobile.

Instead, he would try and imprint some of her powers, and use them to give him more speed. He reached for the blurred figure and hit....nothing.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

For trying to touch her, the creature stinking of disease got a spear jab through the arm she had just hit. It cut into him, but she did not see a wound after. She snarled in frustration and cut at him again, and once more her blade cut but there was nothing left behind - no blood, no wound.

She had been focusing her blows high; without warning, she shifted low, catching the white man in a long, ripping wound that opened his thigh to the bone. A pleased, feral smile stretched across her face as she saw that she had left her mark this time. As another trickle of red began to ooze its way down his pale leg, she stabbed again and caught him in the foot. Her blade struck and cut, and this time, there was a wound.

A cloud of gas suddenly extruded from her opponant, and the Morrigan back-peddled madly, clearing the billowing yellowish gas easily. She hated withdrawing from her opponant, but she didn't want to get hit with whatever it was. She was positive that it wouldn't be good.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

He couldn't hit her. It was not possible, as long as she could evade him so easily, to even touch her. For his opponenet however, Rat might as well have been standing still.

Another slash to his arm, but this time, he absorbed the blow. Again, she struck, and again he absorbed it. Unfortunately, each time she hit him, he felt weaker. He was using his energy to protect his life force. Now, he had to conserve his energy. This meant that her blows would do damage.

White Rat saw, through the coner of his eye, that Skelter had jumped through his warp. Immediatly the gate closed behind him, leaving Rat alone with this most deadly of opponents.

He winced, as her spear lacerted his thigh, opening it from one side to the other. The wound was deep and blood flowed down his leg. The skin, which already hung loosely from his bones, now flapped like a crimson sheet from his knee. An instant later, Rat felt her cruel spear pierce his foot. The blade plunged between his metacarpal bones, twisted, and spread them apart. The tendons and ligaments in his foot snapped, causing his toes to splay outward at odd angles. Even though the pain was excruciatingly horrific, Rat admired the beauty of the wound and it's crippling effectiveness.

Rat, stepped forward on his maimed foot, with the bones making a sick crunching noise as they ground against each other, let loose with a cloud of energy leeching gas. He hoped his opponent would be caught by it, and her energy transferred to him. Her speed and agility, however, enabled her to jump free.

Rat stood, surrounded by the cloud, and looked towards his opponent. Growling with the gurgling sound of blood in his windpipe, he issued a challenge. "Come on! Come get me, or are you scared of a little gas!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The words rolled over her, water over a rock; she didn't really hear them, because she did not understand being afraid. When she fled, she fled out of instinct, a sense of survival. Fear was another beast, but it was a predator that could not gain entrance to her heart. This was an invader; an intruder in her lands, and therefore in her heart.

The Morrigan came at him hard, her spears at the ready before her. She connected with him at full speed, cutting through his tough hide again. Spinning away and leaving her ever-present trail of red falling to the ground behind her, she noticed that being in the cloud tired her, but not as much as she had feared. Baring her teeth in an intimidating smirk, she turned back and struck at him again.

The blood coursed through the air as liquid ribbons, adding a gory beauty to her combat. Her spears stab and cut, the motions a macabre dance. Twice more is White Rat struck, and his blood continued to wash to the ground, mingling with hers in mortal combat.

And then the trap; like an invisible snare, the Morrigan felt herself slow. Somehow, the white nightmare was stealing her grace and speed, and replacing it with lead.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

He wasn't sure if his words made an impact, but she came at him, as he had hoped. He was'nt sure what she did, but her blades slashed deep. A line ran across his chest, where her spears had opened his chest an inch deep, from nipple to nipple. Rivulets of blood poured down his abdomen and onto the floor. Fortunately, the attack did get her within his cloud, and he was able to draw a little energy from her, and into him.

It didn't stop her, but WR no longer cared. Soon, she would no longer be able to fight. All he had to do was endure a few more attacks.

Spears cut him again, and more blood sprayed from the wound. He began to admire her efficiency and lethality, as he felt the warmth of his blood on his feet. She cut him twice more, each blow ripping fleah and scraping bone. He gnashed his teeth as the pain shot through his maimed body.

Smiling to himself, he knew she would be unable to escape from his next attack, if she even knew it was coming. He hoped that all it would take was one burst.

He let loose with an invisible wave of quantum energy, that was designed to take what most people needed to move, and give it to him. She would be aware of it immediately, and would retaliate if she was able. Once the wave engulfed her body, he could feel her speed and agility transferring to him. In a moment, she would be so slow, that he could turn the tables on her.

It didn't work as he planned. Either she had more dexterity than he thought, or his attack was not very effective. But the result, was that she would be able to assail him with another flurry of blows. His heart began to pound in his ears, at the prospect of enduring another filleting by her spears. If he survived, he would make sure that she could no longer fight.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She almost broke and ran. Speed was life; speed was freedom. If he took away her speed, he took her away. But that scent was lingering, teasing, and for the first time, the Morrigan consciously went against her instinct. She stayed, risking her freedom and her life because she had to know; she had to ask the questions, even if the scent really didn't have any answers.

She slashed deep and hard her first time, and her second, and felt the third miss. She was still beauty given life with flashing blood-spears and decorated with long ribbons of blood, but her dance was different, slower. She was being trapped, contained, and still she remained, fighting the inevitable for the chance at an unknown prize.

And the trap closed as she tried to back away; invisible teeth closed around her body and held her in an unforgiving grip. Blood spears lost their form and splashed to the floor seconds ahead of her falling body. The Morrigan ranted and railed and cursed herself for needing to be more than a ignorant beast but even her voice was prisoner, trapped in an unmoving body. For the price of knowledge was always great, and today the coin looked as though it might be her life.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The agility gained was not going to stop her from hitting him. And like most things in his life, he had to endure. Still, his drain of her speed had a noticeable effect, in that she hesitated. To White Rat's dismay, it was only fleeting, as she once again, resumed her atack on him.

A wave of warmth spread over him as he felt her blade enter his torso. The wound was deep, and he knew it had pierced his liver and Hepatic Artery, by the bright red blood that now gushed from the wound. He knew that if he didn't stop her and heal his wound, he would soon succumb to hypovolemic shock. Eventually, he would pass out and die from the blood loss.

She struck again, as he was looking at the gaping hole in his midsection, the blades lacerating his back. He spun around to meet her next attack and felt a tug at his collar. Her blood-spears had finally missed their mark.

The White Rat would not be denied this time. Through force of will, he would make sure that she was stopped. He threw his draining wave outward, enclosing the red-eyed nova. What remained of her speed and movement, was sucked from her and transferred to him. He saw her stop and collapse to the ground, her spears dissipating, useless. He had prevaled.

WR collapsed to his knees, exhausted and crippled. He used what little energy he had left to stop the hemorrhaging to his liver and arteries. Once he had the bleeding stopped, he looked over at his supine and motionless assailant. He began to smile, with sadistic vengeance on his mind.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Limping forward towards his helpless assailant, White Rat finally got a good look at the being he had fought. She wore ill-fitting and mismatching clothing, and her hair looked as if it had not been washed or brushed in a long time. Rat surmised that she must live on the streets. In many ways, she reminded him of himself at an earlier time.

When he peered onto her face, he saw her eyes. They were open, and they glowed red. Good, he thought to himself, she can see me.

Rat moved her head to the side, where she could see him without him standing over her. Then he sat down, his bloody and mangled body in full view of her. His grin increased, becaused he realized he had a captive audience. It had been so long since someone could admire the monster he had become.

"You fought well tonight. Unfortunately, you did not prevail. All you had to do was let me take these creatures back with me, and neither of us would be in this position. Because you decided to interfere, I will have to kill you." Rat spoke to her in a lovingly tone, yet there was no expression on his face. "Don't worry, I won't kill you right away. I have some things I want to share with you."

White Rat grabbed his maimed foot and held it up for her to see. "Look what you did to my foot. The bones have been separated and tendons severed." He grabbed his maimed foot with both hands and began to squeeze and massage it. A gravelly sound could be heard as the bones shifted and ground against one another. Blood oozed from his foot and it pooled around his fingers. "Do you know how much this hurts?" he said, as he squeezed harder, the sounds of crepitus even louder. He paused briefly to lick the crimson juice from his fingers, before returning to crunching the bones in his foot.

When he licked the blood from his fingers he spoke to his audience: "The sweet taste of pain. Only the agony of suffering and death are more beautiful. Don't worry though, soon you shall experience the beauty of a long and painful death too."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She stopped fighting. She couldn't move anyway. Instead, she rested. If he killed moved to kill her, she would make one last effort then. But for now, she just relaxed and watched him, studying him.

He was sick. The Morrigan only had to watch for a few moments to know this. And that was something in her favor; the sick ones were weak, somehow, somewhere. She would find it, and she would exploit it. It never occurred to her that she might die. She was strong, and the strong survived.

Her eyes remained on White Rat, but her nose was working overtime, trying to unweave the interlaced smells in the room. Her nose hunted for and sought out that familiar smell: old, stale cigars and masculinity; the soft smell of leather and the barren smell of medicine. Each scent brought her a little closer to the mystery: who was this man, who smelled so familiar?

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The white misshapen figure rocked back and forth. Humming some nursery rhyme to himself. He had since finished showing off his mangled foot and was now recharging his energy. For the White Rat, he was forcing a rapid recharge of his quantum energy. Something was different however, and to the onlooker, his form seemed to look like it was melting. He was picking up more taint.

"You don't know what you are capable of? Do you?" He finally spoke. "Sure, you might be fast and can manipulate time to a small extent...What was that?" He leans over and puts his ear towards her mouth. "How do I know what you can do?" The White Rat looks like he ponders the question, and then answers, "Let's just say that I can see your aura."

"Anyways, getting back to the subject. There are ways to force your body to evolve, and become stronger and change for the better. I know what your thinking: 'He's crazy' or 'He is delusional'. The truth is, I'm both: I'm crazy and delusional. It comes with the transformation, and it is a temporary condidtion."

"Do you even understand what I'm saying?" He was getting agitated that his audience was refusing to acknowlege his statements. "Nod your head if you can hear me?".

Nothing. The White Rat began to fidgit. "If you don't say something, I will have to punish you." Still nothing. "Ok, let's see if you say something, when I begin to suck your energy from you." He closed his eyes, and a second later, a cloud of gas enveloped both of them. He felt his energy levels rising.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Morrigan could not have spoken even if she had wished. But she had already said all she intended to say to this creature, spoken in a silent dance of flashing spears. You are not welcome here. Go away. This and those are mine.

Seeing his rising frustation gave her no peace; the agitated creature is the one most likely to attack. She wanted him to remain calm, but whatever world he lived in, calm was not allowed. She listened to him hum, wondering what he was thinking when the fragment of song sparked a memory.

"So perfect." Tiny, perfect fingers curled around her index finger, holding blindly to the source of life. The voice was masculine and warm; it matched her higher, female voice as she hummed softly. "Thank you for making me a father."

The memory echoed long after it had faded, and she realized she hadn't been paying attention to her captor. With a surge of panic, she heard him say, "have to punish you." But what he had called punishment didn't sound so bad - not until she felt her energy draining away. Now she fought: fought the pull of his power, and fought to move. The finger that was hidden by her other hand tried to twitch: nothing. But she tried again. And again and...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Do you feel it? Do you feel yourself getting weaker? It's a wonderful sensation, isn't it." He inhaled deeply, as if savoring a scent, with a look of exstacy on his face. After a few moment, the gas dispersed and the now revitalized White Rat started in on his captive again.

"Tell me. How did it feel? Please be honest, I need this for my research." White Rat folded his bloodied arms, anticipating a response. None came.

"Oh well. If that's how you want to be." He closed his eyes and smiled. After 10 minutes he opened them and looked towards the prone vagrants.

He jumped to his feet and grinned at his helpless audience. "It's time for me to share the beauty of death with you."

He walked over to one of the bound vagrants, and roughly dragged it over to where she could watch. He unbound the drugged vagrant and stripped the clothing from him. After re-tying him, he gagged the man and injected him with the counter drug to awaken him. A minute later, the bum woke and struggled against his bindings. His eyes were filled with tears.

The white monstrousity looked down at man, and patted him on the head lovingly and in a soft voice spoke. "Now, now, don't cry, it will only make your salvation more difficult."

He turned to his nova audience and continued. "I want you to pay attention. This is very important."

Rat began to surge quantum through his body, reinforcing it with his will. A moment later he touched the vagrant on the ankle. A visible red mark could be seen where he touched him.

"That red mark on his leg is an infection. Over the next hour, it will grow up his leg and into his torso. At that time, the pain will become...intense. He will cry out for help, and realizing that none will come, will beg for death. At that point you can end his suffering. If you do not, he will live his final hour in agonizing pain, as the infection consumes his body. At that time, there will be nothing left but a pool of denatured proteins and amino acids."

"Will you watch his transformation with me? I would consider it an honor."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

The Morrigan lay quietly, though she had no choice. Feral, glowing eyes watch the tainted monstrosity, listening to its words. She showed no understanding, in large part because its words mattered little to her. But the threat to her resources, that she understood.

Grimly, she resumed her efforts to move her finger, while continuing to mentally fight the anger that was starting to wash over her. This thing came into her territory, stole her humans, diseased others and imprisoned her. This would be neither forgotten or forgiven.

The people stolen were people who would never provide for her. The man dying was one who could never again feed her. It wasn't an attack on her person; it was an attack on her survival, and the Morrigan raged futilely against the loss.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Two hours had passed, and everythig had gone as he said it would. The vagabond dissolved into a puddle of complex organic molecules in a horrific process of bacterial digestion. The whole time the White Rat sat quietly, occasionally pointing at part of the dissolving man and nodding to himself.

"The beauty and magnificense of death!" White Rat shouted at the end of the man's destruction, as if announcing the end of a circus show.

"Care to offer any input?" he giggled. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you...again?...What was that?...I'm sick?....I'm not sick...Am I? Oh wait, I get it...you want me to leave. Fine, I'll leave." He looked like he was pouting. "If you survive my parting gift, and come after me, I'll return. When I do return, I'll infect everyone here."

"Because you were a worthy opponent, I guarantee to never return. This will leave you to do what you wish with these creatures, assuming you survive. I can hunt elsewhere for prey."

"I do have one last thing to do before I leave, however, and I hope you appreciate the gift." Once again, he began to charge up his power. This time, his form vibrated slightly in response to a quantum surge turning in on itself. He was picking up more taint.

The power surged through his node, as he touched the nova on the ankle. Moments later, and in a blast of wind, he left.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She waited for the pain to start, for the red mark to appear and start to crawl up her leg. She prepared for it, readied for a fight with death from within her own body. But nothing happened, and finally, after an eternity, her finger twitched. The rest of her body followed suit and she slowly began to work her way to her feet.

The bound men had long since started to struggle, but they had made little headway against White Rat's bindings. Moving with a touch of stiffness, the Morrigan walked to the first one and undid his bonds. Grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, she hauled him to his feet and buried her nose in the crook of his neck under his chin. Bypassing the smells that clung to his clothing, she went straight to his scent. As he hung from her hands and bellowed in nervous shock, she inhaled deeply. He wasn't the one; he smelled of whiskey, as if it had permated his skin. With a disgusted grunt, she dropped him in a sore, sodden heap.

She didn't get to smell the second man, the one left, her last chance. The moment she removed the gag, he said, "Madeline! I found you!" Her red eyes bore into him without comprehension, and he said, "It's me, Ford. You... you don't remember? No matter, I've found you. I've finally found you, Madeline."

Link to comment
Share on other sites


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...