http://sl4irl.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
sl4irl.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writing_shadows2010-07-25 11:31 pm
sl4irl.livejournal.com) wrote in writing_shadows2010-07-25 11:31 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Knife resting there on a table. He waited for the flush of snow but it didn't come. It probably didn't need to.
The blood had dried across the bare floorboards. Most of it had hit sawdust & soaked in instantly. He couldn't smell it.
'You understand, Mr. Snaggle, that if you get up out of that chair I will stab you through the heart.' Drago sound patient, perfectly calm.
A grin hidden behind the rictus mask.
***
The police pulled away. Not a bad set up.
Bathed in Darkness he was crouched on the side of the building. He couldn't see the other two, but then that just meant they were competent. He could see Drago, though, down below and waiting to drive across the entrance. He'd texted that the police were sorted. This being a Winter Court job it'd been done quietly. He'd seen the Fairest making a phone call, and that was that. All in all it wasn't half a bad set-up.
The target didn't emerge after the door opened, instead it was some horrible fish-thing. It also needed killing, but someone was to beat it to them. The nutjob with a knife who for some reason had been let out of his cell from the police wandered across the car-park below, apparently oblivious to them. A few moments later he was wiping fishman off of an iron knife and onto his jacket.
They let him leave peacefully.
Their target emerged shortly afterwards, spotting the cadaver and moving towards his car. It was the lion beast, rather than the Wizened. Eyeing him over, Snaggle felt relieved they were dealing with him from such a distance. They let him walk for a few yards, before the sound of the distant firecrackers Drago had distributed to some neighbourhood children reached their ears. He was struck by the bullets first, shoulder and shin, slumped.
After a fraction of a second's aim, Snaggle flung. He felt the token gnaw into his hand but refrained from wincing. The tip struck the Beast in the throat, a billow of black smoke erupting.
The shots kept on coming. Clearly his counterparts were thorough. The head, already disconnected, fell from his shoulders.
The car pulled off, he saw scrambling glimpses of movement as the other two fled as well. A child had appeared. They'd been warned about a child. The others lost their head, though. They'd have been seen fleeing from a double murder. So much for Winter sub-
-There was a blast of light, permeating everything for a moment. Not turning back he hurled himself through the gate. Then disappeared completely.
***
Kieran was looking him over carefully. He answered his questions in the negative. No, there was no stiffness. No, no pain. He'd been told it was his brain which was changed, though, so perhaps by this point he was just a puppet? Perhaps everything was planned out, the appropriate areas numbed.
The Chirugeon interrupted his reverie, prodding the back of his neck. 'There.'
Drago collapsed from his chair...
***
'What can you remember from the Hedge? What happened?'
These questions came from a number of mouths, each given the same reply. He couldn't remember. He couldn't. He'd thought that this was over, that he'd stay aware whenever he was awake, that he'd become better, but apparently not & that was that. Nothing strange if it took him a bit longer to return. That was the Hedge for you.
& that had been that, until Jack began bugging out...The newly sprouted Summer Monarch had suddenly begun staring at him with what (if the Elemental was capable of it) seemed to be horror. Before Snaggle knew it a wave of activity had swept him into the stable, where he saw a heavily wounded dog limping off. He was told that his brain had been altered, somehow. Kieran was tasked with founding out how, as the Winter Court watched him & Jack discussed killing him very loudly in the next room. That the blank patch in his memory was something to be concerned about after all...
...He found himself being sharply re-acquainted with fear.
***
He couldn't see Altair. There had been some slight scufflings amongst the rafters at his arrival, but he couldn't catch a sight of him or the gun being pointed in his direction. Perhaps he didn't need to.
Drago heaved himself from the floor.
'I didn't do anything to him.' Snaggle explained, mostly to Kieran, quite patiently.
'The child...It's a mask...Just something he wears...' Drago stammered. Suddenly things began to slot back into order...
'Come and play.' he'd been instructed. It approached him, for a moment leaving him entirely trapped, mute with terror. It repeated the imperative like a mantra, slipping up behind him and reaching out a finger for his neck...Yes...Yes...Just a mask...
He snapped from the memory and fished an iron javelin-head from a pocket, taking up the mirror and angling it so that the top of his spine came into view. He lined up the blade against his flesh, and...the mark faded completely before he could strike.
Panting, he tugged the hood back over his scalp. Fucking Cambridge.
The blood had dried across the bare floorboards. Most of it had hit sawdust & soaked in instantly. He couldn't smell it.
'You understand, Mr. Snaggle, that if you get up out of that chair I will stab you through the heart.' Drago sound patient, perfectly calm.
A grin hidden behind the rictus mask.
***
The police pulled away. Not a bad set up.
Bathed in Darkness he was crouched on the side of the building. He couldn't see the other two, but then that just meant they were competent. He could see Drago, though, down below and waiting to drive across the entrance. He'd texted that the police were sorted. This being a Winter Court job it'd been done quietly. He'd seen the Fairest making a phone call, and that was that. All in all it wasn't half a bad set-up.
The target didn't emerge after the door opened, instead it was some horrible fish-thing. It also needed killing, but someone was to beat it to them. The nutjob with a knife who for some reason had been let out of his cell from the police wandered across the car-park below, apparently oblivious to them. A few moments later he was wiping fishman off of an iron knife and onto his jacket.
They let him leave peacefully.
Their target emerged shortly afterwards, spotting the cadaver and moving towards his car. It was the lion beast, rather than the Wizened. Eyeing him over, Snaggle felt relieved they were dealing with him from such a distance. They let him walk for a few yards, before the sound of the distant firecrackers Drago had distributed to some neighbourhood children reached their ears. He was struck by the bullets first, shoulder and shin, slumped.
After a fraction of a second's aim, Snaggle flung. He felt the token gnaw into his hand but refrained from wincing. The tip struck the Beast in the throat, a billow of black smoke erupting.
The shots kept on coming. Clearly his counterparts were thorough. The head, already disconnected, fell from his shoulders.
The car pulled off, he saw scrambling glimpses of movement as the other two fled as well. A child had appeared. They'd been warned about a child. The others lost their head, though. They'd have been seen fleeing from a double murder. So much for Winter sub-
-There was a blast of light, permeating everything for a moment. Not turning back he hurled himself through the gate. Then disappeared completely.
***
Kieran was looking him over carefully. He answered his questions in the negative. No, there was no stiffness. No, no pain. He'd been told it was his brain which was changed, though, so perhaps by this point he was just a puppet? Perhaps everything was planned out, the appropriate areas numbed.
The Chirugeon interrupted his reverie, prodding the back of his neck. 'There.'
Drago collapsed from his chair...
***
'What can you remember from the Hedge? What happened?'
These questions came from a number of mouths, each given the same reply. He couldn't remember. He couldn't. He'd thought that this was over, that he'd stay aware whenever he was awake, that he'd become better, but apparently not & that was that. Nothing strange if it took him a bit longer to return. That was the Hedge for you.
& that had been that, until Jack began bugging out...The newly sprouted Summer Monarch had suddenly begun staring at him with what (if the Elemental was capable of it) seemed to be horror. Before Snaggle knew it a wave of activity had swept him into the stable, where he saw a heavily wounded dog limping off. He was told that his brain had been altered, somehow. Kieran was tasked with founding out how, as the Winter Court watched him & Jack discussed killing him very loudly in the next room. That the blank patch in his memory was something to be concerned about after all...
...He found himself being sharply re-acquainted with fear.
***
He couldn't see Altair. There had been some slight scufflings amongst the rafters at his arrival, but he couldn't catch a sight of him or the gun being pointed in his direction. Perhaps he didn't need to.
Drago heaved himself from the floor.
'I didn't do anything to him.' Snaggle explained, mostly to Kieran, quite patiently.
'The child...It's a mask...Just something he wears...' Drago stammered. Suddenly things began to slot back into order...
'Come and play.' he'd been instructed. It approached him, for a moment leaving him entirely trapped, mute with terror. It repeated the imperative like a mantra, slipping up behind him and reaching out a finger for his neck...Yes...Yes...Just a mask...
He snapped from the memory and fished an iron javelin-head from a pocket, taking up the mirror and angling it so that the top of his spine came into view. He lined up the blade against his flesh, and...the mark faded completely before he could strike.
Panting, he tugged the hood back over his scalp. Fucking Cambridge.