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enithinggoes · 3 years

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Wanderer’s Refuge, chapter 3:Lawrence knows people

The Wanderer’s Refuge was heading for the beach, Agatha and Ursa still wanted to stick to their plan of visiting it, and what better time than the present right? Lawrence didn’t mind, he didn’t have anywhere to be.

But they were going to have to make a few stops along the way for supplies, such as water for the boiler, coal(Lawrence couldn’t keep his flames going for long and without steam, making the train move was very tiresome for Agatha), and just some better clothes.

Lawrence suggested the little town of Sunhill, known for being one of the few places where you can still buy items to make sorcery more potent and useful, though you’ve got to know where to look, plus it was on the way anyway, although it’s location in the middle of a meadow not connected to the railway system meant the coal would have to wait.

After they landed in the woods close by, the trio headed into the town of Sunhill, observing it to be a lot quainter than their last stop, the streets had lots of trees around and the wind seemed just a little bit lighter. Lawrence guided them to what seemed to be a regular clothing store, but after Agatha and Ursa picked up a few sets of clothes, including a cute white sweater for the former and some sturdy leather gloves for the latter, he took them to changing room 3, telling them all to get in.

After they entered a bit confused, he pulled on handle on the wall and said “What our souls make is forever ours”. The wall opened like a door, revealing a secret, hidden store where a man with a dirty black beard welcomed them.

“Well, go on in, my mom said these guys hold the highest quality when it comes to magic apparel, this is where she got me these fire-proof gloves that don’t inhibit my sorcery.” He gestured to the secret store, “have fun in there, I’m gonna go get myself some new suits and we can meet outside.”

After Lawrence left with a little smirk, Ursa wheeled Agatha in and they had a look around, “what can I offer you today?” said the bearded clerk, “tell me about your natural sorceries and I can give you a few recommendations.” He had a slightly dangerous smile of a man who’d been through quite a few tribulations and should not be taken lightly, but there was no hostility in his demeanor.

“Oh!” Agatha chirped with anticipation, “I create iron and Ursa creates steel, I’d like something that could help me make precise images to transform into my creations, please.” She wheeled herself forward faster than Ursa pushed her.

“Very well then, I think I have just the right thing, draw something in this notepad, please, reeeally concentrate on it,” the shopkeep suggested.

Agatha picked up the white chalk and started scraping it over the flat black pad, after she drew a small pocket watch, it seemed to spontaneously manifest in the table next to her, prompting a rigorous observation and a gasp of excitement from Agatha, once she’d confirmed it was identical to her drawing, she rubbed her hand over the pad erasing the drawing, the watch disappeared.

“Oh this will definitely help, thank you sir, I’d love to take this!” Agatha exclaimed.

Ursa, who’d been looking around at the artifacts since she’d gotten in, took this chance to say what she was looking for, “You got anything that can help me use my sorcery on my whole body? So far I can only really get it to go on my arms and legs.”

The man scratched his beard as he went over his store’s inventory, “hmm. I think I know what you need, something to center yourself! Here you go, wear this over your heart.” He handed her a plain white circular brooch.

“It’s… Unusually warm,” commented Ursa.

“When you want to use sorcery on your whole body, focus on that warm feeling as the center of your being,” explained the vendor.

“Huh.” Ursa rubbed the brooch between her index finger and thumb. “I’ll take it.”

Meanwhile, Lawrence was indulging himself with a new dark blue suit and taking a look at a few hats, when he saw a young man that caught his eye, with short black hair, light brown skin, a button-up vest and a bandana around his neck. Though the trait that interested Lawrence most the sharpness of his brown-orange eyes, “there’s a man who knows what he’s looking for!” thought Lawrence.

“Hey, handsome.” He greeted, leaning his elbow against a rack to his left, “what brings you here?”

The man tilted his head and stared at him curiously for a moment, as if not expecting any kind of interaction, then answered in a serious tone “Oh, hello sir. I’m actually here on the job, if you’re well acquainted with this store’s patrons, could you tell me a bit about the clientele?”

“Oh, well, we get a bit of everything here, men, women, children, you name it, it’s got items for all tastes, as long as you’ve got some dough.” Lawrence showed a tightly closed fist as he gave the least informative answer he could think of, he would have to keep an eye on this guy, “what are you, anyway, an investor or something of the sort? The name is Lauren, by the way, enchanted to meet you.”

The man furrowed his brow as he shook Lawrence’s hand, “I’m Tobias Walker, and I’m tasked with investigating the strangely high criminal presence in the region surrounding this store, have you seen anything… unnatural lately sir?”

Lawrence hid his worry under a well-practiced clueless smile, “well, you’d have to tell me what you’re looking for, because I haven’t witnessed anything I’d describe in such a way these days, mister.”

“Hmm, I can’t tell a civilian too much more about it, just leave it alone, I’ll find my way around, thank you. One more thing, do you know anyone who’s seen two girls, one white-haired with glasses and the other one black-haired with a horizontal scar over her nose?” As the man spoke, Agatha and Ursa were coming out of the dressing room, before they could come to greet Lawrence and give themselves away, he grimaced and pointed outside at his hip height, doing his best to alert them without being too suspicious.

“Hey! I haven’t seen anyone like that, but maybe I can talk to the people I know around here and tell you what I find out over coffee somewhere nearby?” Lawrence did his best to keep the investigator’s attention on himself as the girls snuck away from the building.

“I see, I don’t think that will be necessary, we’re leaving in a few days but thank you for the offer,” he said, and Lawrence took note of the use of “we”, “just one more thing, what’s your real name?”

That caught Lawrence off guard, but Tobias’ expression was closer to amusement than accusation. “It’s Lawrence,” he answered with a grin not letting his surprise show.

“Well, I haven’t heard of any misbehaviors on your part, but color me curious, what reason would a man like you have to lie about their name?”

Lawrence winked and leaned closer, saying “maybe I can tell you about it if we meet again.” before dashing out into the street.

Tobias was left quizzical, thinking “I think that man may have just stolen a few suits…”

“We gotta go we gotta go we gotta go!” Lawrence shout-whispered at the girls as he gently pushed them along away from the clothes store.

“What’s happening? Who was that guy? Are we in trouble?” said Ursa, wheeling Agatha forward quickly to avoid the pushing.

“Not if we move quickly, that was an investigator trying to find the centers of sorcerous activity around here, also you two specifically, I didn’t know you were such a hot topic,” answered Lawrence, moving quickly back towards the woods, “we’ll have to spend a while laying low around here, if we take off while they’re looking for you they’ll know exactly where we’re going”.

The trio came back to the Wanderer’s and hid inside, but there was something strange, dirt on the floor of the train, and not in the shape of their shoes, but in the shape of paws, five toed, long-clawed paws. Perhaps more surprising, in a few more moments, they saw that one of the sacks of less perishable food was missing, not torn up, but seemingly, inexplicably carried away.

#Wanderer's refuge #steampunk #magic #gay character #lesbian character #Original Work #original writing #original story #weekly #saturday #enni #bastard man #i love my bastard boy #found family #chill chapter

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frstbiitten · 3 years

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cw: violence, gore, blood, death

The bathroom was a little further away than expected, she doubted anyone would notice the bloody wound on her back, too bad her black shirt would have a slit in it, she didn't want to get rid of it, at least not now. Feeling the bodies sticking against hers only made her sick to her stomach, it was an overwhelming and invasive feeling at the same time.

She reached the bathroom almost stumbling on her way, the light was white at least, no outlandish colors for now. It was also almost inundated in silence, beyond the music coming from the dance floor, it was a relief to get out of that shapeless mass of humans. There was no one at least insight, all the toilets clean and free of any interference - that is, anyone else-. She opened one of the empty cubicles, almost all of them were empty except for just one, she pulled out enough paper to wet the pieces slightly and clean the wound, it was a very deep one, just noticing its presence caused her even more physical pain, although it was clear that it was healing normally as expected of her. After a few days, only a somewhat lumpy mark would remain.

A girl, no taller than Frost, came out of one of the cubicles, it was to be expected that there might be someone else without her knowing, she was wearing a short tight black dress with loose dark hair, perhaps the whole outfit plus heavy makeup was more expensive than Frost could imagine. Though she didn't leave after washing her hands, she observed Frost for a moment, looking at the papers wet in water and blood at the same time, she was heading for the door until she took a closer look at the wound on her back.

"Do you need help, do you want me to call an ambulance?" Her voice was somewhat soft, from the way she looked Frost could tell easily that she drank a little, but still had a low level of alcohol in her blood.

"No thanks, I'll be fine in a few hours." Frost turned around to get a better look at her, at least a stranger cared about her wellbeing, maybe this little world wasn't full of selfish people.

"Are you sure? Maybe that could get worse."

She heard only a hiss and one of the heels hit the ground very close to her, her movement had been quick but Frost had reacted sooner. She had the girl's right wrist gripped firmly by his icy hand, the knife she carried being just a few inches away from reaching her stomach. A reaction the girl never expected, she would have preferred to catch her more off guard, but Frost's senses had been on alert since Kit had assaulted her.

"I can't let you go alive." The stranger was mumbling, attacking her with her fist from her other hand, it wasn't very efficient as Frost caught her instantly.

"I have to say the same thing, but I'm more stubborn."

The girl's hand holding the knife began to rapidly cool to the point where her fingers were being stuck against each other from the cold, before she began to scream, Frost used the girl's frozen hand and inserted the tip of the knife straight into the jugular. Frost shoved the body into the cubicle behind the girl, some of the blood had run down her face as she threw the body onto the toilet. It wasn't a pleasant sight, as much as she was used to exposed bones and split open heads at this point, a corpse was always unpleasant to look at. "How fucking disgusting, eww!" And she closed the cubicle, sure someone else would find it.

Frost didn't leave the bathroom until she could wash her face from the blood of the last attack, would this night keep this level of violence? She needed to leave. Kit had mentioned that this could happen, if that girl knew about her, then more people there would be looking for her with non-peaceful goals in mind. She had to find Violet before leaving, or maybe get the hell out of here with her. Still had to get through the mass of dancing people, it was a claustrophobic experience when panic mixes with the music and the lack of air. Was anyone else looking for her? From the shadows someone was watching her, watching her face being illuminated for a few seconds thanks to the spotlights.

Found Violet and Kit, both having a drink at the bar as if nothing else had happened before, it seemed that Violet forgave her very quickly. Kit first noticed Frost's presence approaching, she didn't appear too pleased to see her again.

"Hey Frost, don't you want me to call an ambulance?" Kit took a sip of her drink, striking a relaxed pose, elbows, and back leaning against the bar, it gave her a better view of the dance floor.

"What?"

"She deserves an apology from you, too." Violet returned Violet's comment, though she was turning her back to Frost from her seat, turning around almost immediately, something didn't add up in the young woman's expression, especially in her eyes. "Hey Frost... Do you need anything?"

"I have to go."

"So soon? Didn't you want to enjoy the evening first?" Kit seemed to know more than she appeared to, as if she had already foreseen the recent attack in the bathroom. "Or are you afraid of being in the eye of the storm?"

"... What?"

Could barely hear the rest of the world accurately after Kit said that, it was as if everything had quietened down for a few moments. But she could feel herself being watched, uncomfortably watched by more than a single person. Felt the weight of a hand on the back of her neck, it was a grip that sought nothing more than control over her, and suddenly it was her hair being forcibly pulled back. Frost didn't have much time to react and couldn't avoid the blow on the back of her knees, someone was forcing her to slow down and obey under every strike on her body until she ended up on all four of her limbs. Someone was belittling her power.

Frost took advantage of her enemy's position and used her left leg to create a circular motion and throw him to the ground. She had lost sight of Violet and Kit, this guy was her priority and it was an almost minuscule moment that it took her to kill the big guy, plunging the knife she had taken from Kit earlier to insert it into her attacker's chest.

The screams and chaos after the first attack were to be expected. It was all very sudden, had a gun in front of her face and her first instinct was to freeze it before the attacker could pull the trigger, that trick seemed to always work. She ascended from the ground with a blow from her fist directly towards the lower part of the man's jaw -he wasn't as big as the previous one but he did pass her in height-, she couldn't land a second blow, as another man had grabbed her waist from behind and pushed her to the bar, almost crashing into the chairs.

She was confused, but it was obvious that trusting Kit was no longer viable. Felt a hand trying to help her to get up, it was Violet, she hadn't left there like the rest of the other people were doing, like the ones that were left only wanted to watch the fight, or they were the ones coming for Frost.

"Get up... Get up Frost, you have to go, there's like 15 guys here wanting to kill you." Violet let Frost's arm rest on her shoulders, where was Kit? Well right next to them, she didn't know what look to give her back at Frost, but she didn't seem to have any intentions of helping her.

"No... I can't leave.... They're going to follow me anywhere, or they could hurt you if they wanted to." She had mentioned 15 men in total? 17 if you counted the girl in the bathroom and the dead guy on the floor. The DJ wasn't about to leave his place either, as he had changed the music to a much louder one, it helped set the mood, beyond how surreal it was, also some artificial smoke flooded the dance floor, was it to hurt her or benefit her?

She still had the knife in her hand, needed to be smart when using it, maybe they would come one at a time, she doubted they would want to kill her between them all. Took a few steps forward once she was able to compose herself, was already in plain sight amidst a fog and dancing lights.

"Did you guys come for me? Because you're only wasting my time."

Frost didn't have to wait too long to get a reaction from these men, clearly, they were determined to die for a sum of money, she was ignorant of what it would be and who might have put a bounty on her head. It wasn't easy, as some were armed or more experienced, they managed to hit her with their fists or some short weapon, although she also knew how to defend herself. It was also clear that the most desperate ones went for her first, it was easy to unbalance them with kicks, punches, and cuts. She felt the adrenaline rise and fill her skull, as well as her skin became colder and colder, the feeling of vertigo and of letting herself be carried away by anger.

But she didn't make it in time, instead, one of the men took it upon himself to lift her off the ground with her body over his shoulder, as much as she could stab his back - there was something underneath that could be a kevlar vest, which prevented her from reaching his muscles-. The man dropped Frost onto the drink bar, there were glasses and bottles, these became shattered glasses and alcohol scattered all the way to the floor, again the young woman's back was suffering the consequences. Being short was a disadvantage, as the man surpassed her in height by many inches, had leather gloves so he could withstand the cold, and grabbed Frost by her clothes to lift her and turn her around. Like a magic trick, he used the alcohol from the drinks as fuel and with a lighter turned the bar into a new method of torture, finally, he grabbed Frost's hair to slam her face into the surface of the bar, now on fire and with shattering glass.

It was her fury that stopped the man's strength, her hands rested on the edge of the surface in time to push her torso upward, between grunts and struggles, her eyes took on a whitish hue and the glow in them appeared. The fire didn't last long, a layer of ice began to spread from her fingers, extinguishing the fire instantly, she used her foot to deliver a kick in the direction of his knee and knock him off balance, knocking him to the ground but she didn't pay attention to him again, 8 more guys were waiting for their turn.

She grabbed the knife from the ground and wrapped it in ice, turning it into an even more lethal weapon than before. Frost slashed one of them in the stomach fatally enough to leave his guts all over the floor and start screaming, another was pierced through the eye and getting finished with a chunk of ice in the eyesocket as it cooled his skull, and so they kept falling one by one.

"This is... ew..." Violet was both shocked and disgusted, shocked by the scene in front of her eyes and disgusted by the blood spilled and the guts, too many for just one night.

"You should leave, it could get worse." Kit lightly pushed Violet in the direction of the door they had previously entered through, the last thing she wanted was to be involved in the situation, let alone afterward, she was planning on finishing her task however she could. "Besides, look at her, this only proves my point: Frost isn't like you, me or anyone else, sooner or later she could hurt someone innocent, she's not human either, have you ever seen a human do that?" Kit pointed at Frost who seemed to be winning the fight, her eyes perfectly reflected the anger that was driving her to keep fighting, using the ice that gushed from her hands to incapacitate and kill, the scene was getting harder to watch with every blow. "And if she doesn't at least kill us, those around her could die, you saw what happened to Jasper... it's not safe to be around her."

Violet preferred not to connect one event to another, Jasper's death was a mistake at the end of the day, and could do nothing to stop such, Jasper never saw Frost as someone who would hurt those who tried to help her. Jasper would say that Frost seemed more like someone who had lost her way than someone who could be violent for no apparent reason. To this day, Violet didn't know if it was beneficial to help her, nor how to help her. They didn't hear the man who had fought Frost against the bar getting back on his feet, overheard the previous conversation and had no intention of sharing the money, Kit included. With a surprisingly skillful move, he grabbed Kit from behind, wrapping his arm around her neck, making a headlock to leave her immobilized.

"Shit shit shit!" Violet tried to help Kit free herself from the man, only to be pushed away by Kit herself, not wanting to put her in danger, somehow managing to articulate the word 'go away' as she struggled to stop the man from choking her.

From a distance, Frost had noticed that the big guy hadn't fainted as she had assumed, before killing the last man, she performed a quick maneuver, never done it before from such a distance. From her fingertips, ice crystals detached like razor blades, threw them intending to kill the man who was trying to choke Kit. Frost heard the ice shards embedding into the skin and reaching up to the skull and neck, and with a final blow, she shattered the eye of the last opponent, letting him fall to the ground along with the others.

The adrenaline rush had worn off once she managed to relax, the knife slipped from her hand and fell to the ground, again staining the blade with blood as the ice melted. She was exhausted after such a fight, never fought so many people at the same time on the same day. Gasped as she tried to relax her muscles, trying to get back to her normal self.

She started to hear a cry from behind her, Frost turned around to get a better look at what had happened. Violet was on the floor, sitting on her knees and legs, in her lap she had half of Kit's body on her, it looked like she was trying to take something from her. As she got closer she could see in detail what had happened. It was a fatal aiming error on her part, yes she had managed to kill the man who had assaulted them both, but Kit was also affected. 3 of the 5 crystals she had thrown had impacted her body too, one of her eyes was gone and there was nothing but a piece of ice emerging from the eye socket, another embedded in her forehead, and the third -or first- in her throat. The blood wasn't gushing evenly, it was clotting and freezing right away, the face alone was becoming misshapen and taking on a bluish hue.

"I... I'm so sorry Violet..." Her hands were stained with blood, she wished she could reach out to touch her shoulder or take her away, she didn't know which way to act.

"Go away."

"What?"

"Please leave." It was the first time she had ever heard Violet speak that sternly, her eyes full of tears, her voice cracking and even sounding like she was going to attack her at any moment. "...they're coming for you.... you have to go..."

"I'm sorry..."

"PLEASE GO AWAY!"

Didn't have to think about it much, Violet no longer saw her as before, for Frost, she wouldn't know how to solve it in the future, she had to follow her advice to get out of there before the police arrived on the scene. Decided to take the way she had entered, then do her best to get lost in alleys and areas where she could hide for a few hours. Heard the sirens like a clap of thunder, a sound that chased her as she hid, how long was that fight? This was never in her plans, for she doubted she would ever make it home this time.

Finally hidden in the bushes of a building, there was a bridge several yards away, she could hide there too until the time she deemed safe. She heard a rustling behind her, as she turned in the direction of the sound, there was only a shadow standing, someone, but it was a familiar and unfamiliar feeling at the same time.

"Please... leave me alone." She would be cordial for now, but she wouldn't hesitate to use her force again.

Frost heard an almost imperceptible sound, like a tv being unplugged, a power failure, but it wasn't caused by an electric current or any artifact. It was out of nowhere, she felt a prick in her neck, her hand instinctively wanted to remove whatever was pricking her skin. Managed to remove a dart from her neck or so she thought, as she had never seen one, as it looked more like a yellow stain on her hand. Everything became a big dark blob as her body tried to find a way to react, her eyes paled just like her skin as she tried to stand up. The dart fell to the warm grass, looked for a way to support herself using her hands, looked at where the shadow was supposed to be, nothing but a patch darker than the night. Finally, her body decided to give up and Frost fell to the ground.

#novel #((ohh this is a long one))#blood tw #violence tw #gore tw #death tw

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kweebtrash · 4 years

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Smut Prompt 1

JohnnyxReader

Warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, anger, aggressive nature

Words: 4.3k+

Features: Badboy/tattooed/hardcore dom Johnny, choking, rough fingering, finger sucking, rough roadhead, forceful hair grabbing/pulling, knife play, deep thrusting and gut scrambling, getting pounded into the mattress, unprotected sex, creampie, whiny/needy/subby reader,

Masterlist Request Masterlist Buy me a Ko-Fi

1. “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.”

I watched my boyfriend cackle like a hyena as he pulled the cigarette from his lips. He was talking to one of his idiot friends, someone who annoyed me because he always reeked of weed, and not paying attention to me. That was his first mistake.

The second mistake was not letting me fuck him before we came over to this dumb party which was really a bunch of dealers and their next trick scattered about a dingy motel room. There was at least free booze but it was barely quelling my appetite for Johnny. The summer air made the room thick and foggy, the air conditioner struggling to keep it cool with all the bodies within the cramped space. He had taken his patched and studded vest off and gave it to me to hold onto to then removed his shirt. That was when we first got here and now I had to stare at the way his tattoos snaked around his biceps and covered his chest, the ink seeming like it was shifting every time he rose his arm to press the cigarette to his lips.

The shirt had been tucked into the back of his light gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. The waistband of his underwear was a strip above and barely succeeded at keeping Johnny's dick print sheathed. It was so prominent; those sweatpants left nothing to the imagination which made me even grumpier. I had no idea why I had been so horny all day but it was time after time of denial. He would shove me away and tell me to quit bothering him or to get off him. He could be an asshole most of the time there there were pockets were his sweet side came out. That was why I stayed with him. Not to mention I had never had a man fuck me as good as he did.

But here I was, still horny, still bored, and still wanting to leave. I sipped at the beer that was handed to me by some blonde and continued to glare at his toned torso. I was jealous of every drop of sweat that glided down the column of his neck, dipping ever so slightly in his collarbone. How could I be jealous of that? Why was he driving me insane? I called out to him over the music and he glanced over at me for a millisecond before continuing his conversation. It was then I wondered if I had upset him or something. Perhaps he was just being fucking moody but I was tired of this entire scene. One thing I learned that never failed to get his attention was when other men, or women, tried to flirt with me-or better yet when they touched me.

He wasn't possessive in the sense that he was controlling and wouldn't let me do anything but rather in a primal way. As soon as he saw someone trying to vie for my attention he was snarling fury and ready to mark me. I loved that side of him and it made my body heat up with such tension that I had to press my thighs together and try not to cum right then. But now I had to set my plan into action and the tool that was stoned out of his mind beside me was the perfect play thing.

I lowered the neckline of my midriff tank top to show off more of my chest, leaning into the guy with the guise of chatting about beer, and pretended I was interested in whatever drugs he sold. I made sure my skirt rode up my thighs but still covered my ass-didnt want to give everything away. He was already staring at my tits while I talked, a good sign that he would get bold enough to perhaps stroke my thigh or even twirl a finger around my hair. I had been wearing Johnny's vest since he gave it to me but I tossed it off to show that I was "single".

When the clank of safety pins and buttons hit the floor, Johnny's eyes darted to me again, except this time they stayed longer. I pretended not to notice and leaned into my puppet more. He dared to caress my thigh and even grabbed my ass a little, which I hated. I didn't want him to go that far but as long as it didn't get to a point where I would have to kill him I would continue to play it cool. I made sure to cast a glance at Johnny and I was satisfied that his eyes seemed to have turned pitch black with the intent to hunt. The air trickled with anger that only I could feel. I added fuel to the fire by pretending that I was clumsy enough to spill beer on my chest, making a fuss over the mess. I then asked if the guy could get me a towel or something to wipe myself off with though he continued to make not so sly comments about wanting to lick it off me. After denying and shoving him away, he finally left in search of a towel from the bathroom. In that moment of peace my whirlwind storm grabbed onto my arm and hauled me onto my feet.

"What do you think you're doing?" Johnny growled.

"I'm drinking!" I squirmed in his grasp as more beer spilled on my arm from being yanked up so quickly.

"Mhm," he mocked. "What the fuck you doing all over that guy, huh?"

"I'm not all over him! We were just talking!" I pulled away from him and adjusted myself. "Don't be such a dick."

He didn't say anything more but he grabbed his vest from the floor and shoved me forward. I protested as he made me leave my drink and forced me out of the motel room and towards the parking lot. "Will you stop pushing me?!"

I was up against the warm metal of his car in a mere moment. He tossed his vest onto the hood and trapped me between him and the door. "You think you're so fucking slick, huh? You think I don't know what you're doing?"

"How could you know when you've been ignoring me all day?" I shot back.

He ran his tongue across his teeth and scoffed. "That's what this is about? You being a whiny little brat?!"

"I'm not a brat!" I stomped my foot to accentuate the word. "Is it a crime to want some fucking attention from my boyfriend?! If you don't want to give it to me then I'll just find it from somewhere else." I tried to move away but it was no use. His fingers dug into my arm, making me wince. Johnny pressed his lips to my ear as the other hand cupped between my thighs firmly.

"Yeah? Where else you gonna find someone that fucks you as good as I do? No one and I mean no one will ever make you scream, moan, or squirt like me. You want some pathetic fuck inside you? Is that it?"

I whimpered and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I want you."

"I know you do. Because you're mine. Mine."

"I don't feel like I am." I nuzzled my face into his neck and hid my puppy dog stare. He laughed against the bare skin of my shoulder as he shoved the center of my panties aside and moved two thick fingers into me. I gasped loudly and felt my thighs quiver. I couldn't get a hold of myself and was left clutching at his shoulders. The desperate need that I had following me all day made it so that his fingers were coated in my cum in just one push. He wasn't gentle at all. In fact, he was thrusting so hard into me that I felt like I would collapse at any moment. The shadows of the night kept us hidden but my sounds would surely give us away. It was hard not to scream when that dull and painful ache was starting to get fulfilled at last. "J-johnny!" I panted through a string of curses.

He cuffed the back of my neck and forced me to look at him. "Already whining for me?" He smirked.

I nodded helplessly as I couldn't get another sound out. The only thing I could think to do was grab at him through the sweatpants, wishing I could claw through the fabric. He pulled his fingers free from me suddenly. "Touch me and I'll stop."

"i-i want it. Please. I want you. Please. Please." I begged pathetically.

"What did I say?" He held his fingers away, showing off how my cum glistened in the sliver of pale yellow street lighting above us.

I bit into my bottom lip and whined. "Ok! Ok! I won't touch you. Just please keep going?" I stood on my tiptoes and placed kisses along his jaw to try and entice him. "I'll do whatever you want." I panted. "Anything."

"I know you will because whatever I say goes. You want me to fuck you in this parking lot, don't you?"

I nodded quickly and reached under my skirt in preparation to pull my panties down. Johnny shoved his leg between mine, the muscle of his thigh pressing against my center and leaving a hint of a wet spot on his sweatpants. “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.”

He pried at my mouth with his wet fingers and shoved them past my teeth to smear my own taste on my tongue. I sucked deeply and hungrily, wondering when he would stop torturing me. Tears prickled along the inner corner of my eyes as he pressed down onto the back on my tongue, forcing me to fight against my gag reflex. I gripped his wrist as I squirmed, knowing that he wouldn't pull away until he thought I was close to puking. He was all devilish laughter as he watched me surrender to his every whim. Only when I was a breathless and a teary eyed mess did he move away completely.

I coughed loudly and dragged my thumb knuckle beneath my waterline to try and keep the tears from messing up my makeup. He wouldn't want to see it ruined just yet. I sniffled and looked up at him, unsure of what he was going to do next. That bit of fear made my spine shiver but he simply unlocked and opened the passenger door and commanded me to get inside. I stepped into his car and made myself as small as possible while he walked over to the driver's seat. Once inside he tossed his vest at my lap before starting the ignition and hitting reverse hard.

I was jerked back in my seat and almost tossed against the door when he sprinted out of the parking lot and towards his apartment. "Get a cig for me."

I fumbled to quickly get the mostly empty carton from the breast pocket of his vest and pulled one out. Using the car lighter, I pushed the button in, waited for it to pop out, and set the cigarette between my lips.The now heated metal ignited the tobacco and filled the air with smoke. I handed it over to him and watched as he kept it pursed tightly in his mouth before making a harsh turn. Wind crashed through the open windows, providing much appreciated gusts of night air. It was way better than the air conditioner and eased the discomfort of my warm sticky skin.

Johnny was back to ignoring me, at least I thought so until he snapped his fingers. I barely had a chance to look over at him before I found my head between his stomach and the steering wheel, the bulge in his pants brushing against the tip of my nose. Though I still wanted my own relief, I wasn't opposed to sucking him off. In fact, I knew that once I blew him he would do whatever I wanted. He always said that I was the best head he'd ever had. My gag reflex may not be that great but I always made damn sure he felt like I was going to suck the soul right out of him.

From what I remembered from the drive over to the motel we still had a few minutes until we got back to his place. Just enough time to get him riled up enough so by the time we crossed the threshold into the apartment, I'd be filed and fucked to my heart's content. Just the thought of that made me smile as I kissed his lower stomach and followed his happy trail to the top of his pants. I wedged both his underwear and sweatpants down just enough for him to pop out. He was halfway there and I wondered if my desperation was the cause of his sudden growth. I nuzzled the base of his cock and giggled at the way it seemed to react to the cute touches. "Get to work." He grumbled as he shifted in his seat. A light twinge was at the corner of his lips and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. I was dragging my nails lightly up and down the toned dips in his stomach and though he hated to admit it he was awfully ticklish.

I wiggled my hips as I tried to get as comfortable as possible while being bent over the center console. The storage box was digging into my rib cage but with his big body and barely enough room in his shitty car I was stuck in a half twisted position with his girth now heavy in my mouth. I moaned around him and sucked deeply while I could still fit him in my mouth. Once he was fully erect my throat didn't stand a chance. He was still calm as he drove, humming along to whatever tune was playing on the radio. I held onto his strong thigh to brace myself against the wheels running over uneven pavement. I didn't need to hit my head on anything in the middle of swallowing him.

As he began to stiffen I bobbed my head along his length, swallowing around his head to tease the sensitivity. Johnny shifted his hips and cleared his throat, still trying to keep his cool. I pulled off from his shaft to stroke it while my tongue traced intricate patterns against his slit. The slight tang of the initial drop of precum hit my taste buds and I hummed in appreciation. I was never one to be interested in anything surrounding male cum but Johnny showed me every goddamn perfect thing about it. When it slid down my throat or filled me as deep as Johnny could go my body would go insane. It was another way of marking me, of preventing anyone else from having the satisfaction, and creating an unspoken intimacy between us.

I looked up as I pressed him back against my tongue, getting a little more than half of him down now that he was eagerly wanting more. His bottom lip was pulled taut beneath his teeth but when our eyes met briefly the bite of his lip turned into a scowl. He grabbed a rough handful of my hair and shoved me all the way down to the base of his cock, burning my throat as he prodded at the back of it. I dug my nails into his thigh and flailed restlessly, trying to get him to release me so I could breath. But he didn't stop.

The slow bobs I was performing before was nothing like the brutal way he slammed my head up and down his length. Each time I felt the stab against my esophagus I would squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on breathing through my nose. My hand was trembling as it gripped his sweatpants in a tight fist. He pressed me down again, holding me there for a small chunk of time, until I tapped out in a last ditch effort to breathe properly. He yanked my head back by my hair and I gulped in air quickly and in between coughs.

"Clean your mouth and stop being messy." He said as he flicked ashes out the window.

I winced and wiped my chin of saliva that had unfortunately accumulated from the deep suction. I swallowed hard and nudged my face into his neck while I fisted the head of his cock. "I love you." I mewled against his jugular.

“Mhm.” He answered simply. It was always ‘mhm’, ‘same’, ‘me too’. Never the words exactly. There were times where i hopelessly contemplated if he actually loved me or not. After all we were just two poor kids living in a dilapidated apartment on the wrong side of town. Hell, we even met running from the cops after we were at the wrong place at the wrong time for a drug bust gone awry. Maybe it was the adrenaline from running away but somehow i ended up in his bed that same night. Now a few months later i was head over heels for him and he was an enigma.

To continue to his cold feelings he returned to grabbing my hair and pushing me down to swallow his cock once more. It was the same repetition of painful yet thrilling chokes and gasps of air. This time i was able to work my tongue over him more and focus on flexing my throat. I felt him turn the car and slow down once i pulled up to secure another breath and lap at his shaft. We were at the apartment already and i wondered what was next for me. He cut the engine and yanked me upwards by my neck before crashing a feral kiss against me. I clutched onto his bicep, digging my nails into the black ink that doused his firm muscle. His big tongue warmed my mouth and sent my head into a foggy submissiveness. His hand came to cup around my throat, adding pressure to each side and the center. My lungs clenched in response as did the quivering between my thighs. Just when i opened my legs to try and see if he would receive my invitation for more brutal fingering he pulled away and set himself back in his pants as best he could. “Get your ass upstairs.”

I nodded and quickly got out the car, running as fast as possible to the inside of our apartment building. I fumbled to get the door open which gave johnny enough time to catch up. Before i knew it my back hit the uncomfortable and old mattress and my skirt was being ripped off me. Johnny climbed on top of me, a smirk on his face as he watched me reach out to him. His gaze casted to the side to a discarded pair of jeans he had left on the floor. A studded belt lay in its loops but soon resided in his hands. He pinned my wrists above my head and secured the belt around them, pulling it taught. I angled my hips towards him, waiting for his next move. “Touch me, you asshole!” I was becoming more and more impatient for my release to the point where my body ached,

“Shut your mouth.” The rest of the length of the belt was wrapped and tied around the non-functioning radiator near the mattress. He reached back into the pocket of the jeans and pulled out his favorite switchblade. With a simple flick, the blade was released and glistened with hidden desire. The tip of the blade started at my inner thighs, just barely scraping against my skin as I writhed. My heart hiccuped in my chest as the nerves hit. I felt like he would never cut me but a small part of me was curious as to how it would increase my lust for him. He continued to drag the blade over the seat of my panties. “Don’t move.”

I froze in place immediately and swallowed hard. “What are you doing?” I asked faintly.

One hand pulled the fabric of my panties taut in his fist while the other sliced the blade through it. He ripped the rest away and hurriedly pressed open mouth kisses and bites along my stomach and above my clit. The blade still teased along the edge of my torso where it continued to repeat the cutting of my tank top so my chest lay bare for him. He plunged the blade into the mattress beside my head with a snicker and sunk his teeth into my chest. I moaned deeply and arched into his love bite as my legs fell to the wayside, accepting him right between them. “You know i love teasing you until you’re so fucking desperate for me.” He pressed the words into my skin.

“You’re so fucking terrible! I hate you!”

“Sure you do. You wanna play your little games, this is what you get now.” He kicked off his sneakers and discarded his sweatpants before wrapping my legs around his waist. The anticipation of his cock pressing into my entrance that festered all day finally ceased to exist. In one swift thrust he was buried inside me, the pain shooting straight throughout my nerves. I screamed and struggled against the belted restraint as he delivered thrust after thrust. I had never felt so alive in that moment and the slickness between us reminded me of how much his body delighted every sense I had. He growled in between bites to my lips, my neck, my chest, anywhere he wanted to mark me and show the world that I belonged to him.

“M-make me c-c-cum.” My voice trembled. “God, Johnny, make me fucking cum!”

“You’ll cum when I say you can, understand me?” He growled. He choked me then until I felt that fogginess again. I looked up at the dark filled voids his eyes had become, dilated with the adrenaline of controlling every aspect of our fuck. “Lift your legs.” He panted as his hips slammed into the back of my thighs. I raised my knees to my chest, my toes dancing across his shoulders and deepening the pressure in my gut. The hand on my neck switched to two and my eyes rolled back into their sockets. I couldn't say anything. The only thing I could do was watch visions dancing in my brain that were only of me and him. My legs flailed from the strength of his body devouring me. I clenched tightly around him, surrounding his cock like a vice. “Why are you so goddamn tight for me?” He huffed. The strength of the choking lessened and he held the sides of my face instead. “Look at me.”

I blinked through the swirl of colors that swirled behind my eyelids and focused on him. His hair was sticking to his face, dampened with sweat. I felt like I almost imagined a smile across his lips before he kissed me. It wasn't as hard as before but rather sensual and burning with passion for me. My cheeks flushed instantly and i could feel him descending into a slow stop. “B-baby…” I wanted to hold onto him and show him how much I loved him but he didn’t grant me that right. With his body away from me now I gaped around nothingness, feeling my own cum drip onto the sheetless mattress. He grabbed onto my hips without another word and twisted me around so I lay on my stomach. The belt dug into my wrists more and I could already feel them forming marks. I hissed and curled my fingers to focus the circulation to my hands so they wouldn’t feel so numb.

As i suffered under bondage, Johnny raised my hips and took his rightful pace back inside me. His stamina was just as strong and wild, plowing me into unforgiving ecstasy as he shoved my head into the mattress. I bucked against him, howling and whining at each movement. I almost didn’t feel him press his chest to my back or his fingers digging into me. The overstretching ached my small abused hole but the pads of his fingertips nudged as various spots in conjunction with his cock that had me gasping on the verge of an orgasm. The hand keeping pressure on my head moved to fumble through the intricate twists of the belt he created and finally released my hands. His lips were by my ear, a deep chuckle tickling the warm skin of the cartilage. “Now.”

The single syllable was permission to force my hands between me and the mattress to join him in pleasuring myself. I concentrated eager rubs and circles into my clit as i rocked back against him. More and more my legs tensed, my knees dug into the mattress, and my toes curled back. I heard Johnny gasp deeply, strangled yet so goddamn sensual that i followed suit. His cum splashed inside me, pushing back out since i was stuffed with his shaft still. I crumbled when the heat hit, my body shuddering completely as i lost a sense of self. It was as if i was contorting in the exorcism of the devils that tormented me with the hunger for his cock. In a final collapse we left the bed to be stained with cum, sweat, and the echoes of our strained voices.Johnny kissed the back of my neck gently and wrapped his arms around my rib cage. We shifted into a position of spooning as he remained inside me and kept his cum trapped for me to revel in. Fatigue set in almost immediately and it was practically impossible to stay awake. My eyes slipped shut and my breath evened out eventually. We silenced ourselves and just as i was teetering on the edge of sleep I heard it.

“I love you.”

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dc81600 · 3 years

Text

SCP-REDD

In a dark room a bank of monitor screens illuminated a pale face. The rusted brown glow of the video feeds gave Roger Little more color than the sun had cared to give him in the past few months. Half a kilometer north and two hundred meters down, an automated surveillance drone slowly made its way through a series of corroded metal hallways.

It was oddly silent, beyond the whine of computers and the whir of fans. Roger fiddled with his volume before checking the system audio. Nothing but the noises of the drone itself. No groaning, no creaking, no screaming. Just the soft click clack of the drone.

Roger checked the timing. The drone should have reached it by now. He squinted into the glare and overrode the drone. Nothing but flakes of rusted metal scattered across a floor of rusted metal, fallen from the walls and ceiling of rusted metal.

After several minutes of searching, Roger rubbed his temples. He drummed his fingers on his little metal desk and took a few deep breaths. He reached over and picked up the bulky plastic phone sitting on the edge of his work space. He dialed the number and only had to wait a few seconds before it was answered.

"Sir? It's Roger Little, from Surveillance. We may have a problem."

In the cold reaches of space, a satellite continued to do what it had done for over a decade. It hung in the weaker clutches of the Earth's gravity and watched a man wander about.

The man it was watching, however, was doing something a ways away from his status quo. He was running. Through the sweltering heat of the American Southwest in the middle of its summer, over the scorched earth, under a blazing sun, Mister Lost ran.

In hot pursuit was a man with fiery red hair. His black jacket left unbuttoned, it snapped behind him like shadows cast by a fire, the red trimming a much duller affair than his hair. He was gaining on Lost, who continued to make the mistake of looking over his shoulder. Each glance seemed to give the red-haired man more speed.

The eventual collision left Lost sprawled on the ground for a moment before he tried crawling away. The second man was up in a near instant. He brushed himself off and waited a moment before continuing his pursuit. He walked just behind Lost for a time, until he tried to get up. The pursuer kicked his target back onto the ground. This repeated itself for some time, until the red-haired main simply grabbed the man in the green jacket and dragged him in the opposite direction.

They eventually came upon a third man, who had been sitting on a rock outcropping. Blood and rust clung to every inch of his body. With what seemed to be considerable effort, the man stood. He took two steps before falling.

The red man grabbed the rusted man by the shirt and hauled him up onto his shoulder in a way that was quick but not unkind. All the while Mister Lost remained gripped in his opposite hand. After what looked like a satisfied sigh, the red man walked east.

An O5 rolled an unlit cigar back and forth over the sleek top of his desk. In front of him, the video feed on his monitor ended. Beyond that, his secretary stood at attention.

The secretary took a brief glance at his clipboard. "As you can see, sir, the unknown humanoid has captured both 2933 and 920. Further surveillance from multiple sources show it is now heading for one of our facilities."

The Overseer idly flicked the cigar, sending it spinning. "Given the context, I'm guessing it can be safely assumed who the entity is?"

"It's attacked two of the three Little Mister anomalies we don't have properly contained and now seems to be heading for the Site where we contain the other seventeen. Combined with its general appearance, yes. The list's designation number fourteen, Mr. Redd."

"Lock the Site down. We don't know what Redd is capable of. Considering it was able to escape 2933-1 and has been able to transport 920 for over a hundred miles without stopping, it's not something we want to discover first hand in the midst of an active facility."

The secretary nodded and departed for his own desk. Left alone, the Overseer plucked the cigar up and spun it between his fingers. He replayed the submitted videos and quietly thought to himself.

Eventually his secretary returned, and after a brief wait hustled back out with a freshly stamped order. Alone again, O5-4 slid the silver lighter off his desk and thumbed it several times before it sparked.

A group of people sat in a room full of monitors. Not quite like the one previously described, which was merely a one man obligation simply for the principle of the thing. As the door so boldly claimed, reading Site-██1 Security, this was a security station for a Foundation site, full of attentive individuals, with live feeds covering nearly every hallway and the ability to stream feeds from various containment cells if forwarded from the cell's own containment team.

One attentive individual sat up in her chair, more so than her already perfect posture had allowed. She began squinting at one of the monitors showing a feed of a camera deep within the facility, well away from any of the entrances.

Within the frame was a trio of men. One was dressed in a black and red jacket, one in a coat of metal, and one in a green hoodie. The first was carrying the second and dragging the third, the former of which was groaning and screeching like rusted clockwork and the latter was attempting to crawl away despite appearing to be unconscious.

She wondered how they arrived in the site despite it being locked down, when no one else had made any sort of comment. The worker flagged down her superior as quick as she could and explained what she had seen. But when she pointed to the group of monitors of the area the men had just been spotted in, they were nowhere to be seen. Now one of her coworkers, who had been monitoring an entirely different Wing, was reporting about them.

By the time attention arrived on the monitor in question the men were nowhere to be seen, and further examination showed they had disappeared from surveillance entirely.

O5-4 snubbed out his cheap cigar in one hand and thumbed one of the buttons on his monitor with the other. A round woman with sharp eyes snapped into view.

After a smokey exhale the O5 sat up and meshed his fingers together, if only for himself. His outgoing calls only showed a generic silhouette. "Dziekan. I hope all is well."

The Site Director fidgeted. To her credit, it was only slightly. "Not as such, sir. Redd has somehow breached the site with both Lost and Scary. More than that, he broadcasted a video message from somewhere in the facility. And he's made demands."

The weight of the silence from her superior stayed Dziekan. After several seconds O5-4 took a slow breath and said, "Somewhere in the facility?"

"Well. Sir. I don't recognize the area. It appeared to be a medical bay, but it definitely isn't any I'm aware of. With him was a little girl with a swollen stomach. He called her Katherine but we don't have any subjects on file with that name."

The name pressed down on the Overseer's chest. He took slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm himself but every inhale became more and more difficult. On autopilot, his hands opened his cigar case. The lighter sparked on the first flick and he took a deep drag. On exhale he realized what he was doing, but decided he may as well enjoy it while he could. How in the world could Redd have known about 231—

"O5-4? Are you still there?"

He shifted out of his daze, if only slightly. "Dziekan. Right. Yes. What were his demands?"

"For you to personally come in to see him, or he would kill the girl."

The next pull turned half the cigar to ash. "And?"

"Nothing else. Just for you to see him in person."

O5-4 watched his hand shake, smoke from the cigar zigzagging. "What did you tell him?"

"That I would notify you."

"You didn't say anything about that being against protocol, it being unlikely of happening, anything like that?"

"Seemed unwise to do so, given the context."

He finished his cigar. "If we're both alive tomorrow, remind me to give you a pay raise."

"Sir?"

He terminated the connection.

One door creaked open only to reveal another. O5-4 stepped through and stared down at the man leaning against the wall, an IV sticking into his arm. Mister Scary looked at him and smiled. The contraction chipped away some rust and blood flowed from the edges of his mouth. Neither said anything as the Overseer stepped past the Little Mister, glanced at the bag of morphine, and went through the second door, this one rusted open.

He considered breaking into a run down the hallway and settled on a stiff jog. Some of the tiles cracked under his feet and when he arrived at the double doors they were open, the joints rusting them in place. "I: 1-7 Os: Ker" was all that was visible of the plaque beside the doors.

Rust began to cling to some of the machinery, but the video feed of SCP-231-7's room was still functioning. Overseer Four steeled himself before looking.

A little girl lay in a hospital bed, her pregnant belly covered by her surgical gown. She seemed quite calm given the circumstances, but given her general situation there likely wasn't much that would upset her anymore.

Next to her bed was a man in a red vest, his jacket draped over the back of his seat. In one hand he held the ankle of a rusting man who was attempting to crawl away, and in the other he held a children's book.

The only sounds in the room were Lost groaning as his body rusted as he scrabbled against the decaying tiles and Redd reading in a warm voice.

O5-4 found the intercom and pressed the button. Katherine winced at the squealing as the system turned on and Redd cocked his head at the noise.

"Alright, Mister Redd. I'm here."

Redd released Lost and slowly turned in his seat to reach into his jacket pocket, removing a piece of paper. He marked his place in the story and shut it, setting the book on the bed. As Redd looked into the camera O5-4 saw flakes of brown and black on Redd's skin, red lightning sparking against it and revealing smooth skin.

Redd smiled. "Please, no need for the 'Mister' formality. We're all friends here. I'm Redd open parenthesis discontinued closed parenthesis. My friends just call me Redd. How are you, Four?"

Geniality was not what O5-4 was expecting. A few moments passed, filled only with the sound of Lost banging on the door, before Redd tilted his head and waved at the camera. O5-4 cleared his throat and said, "I've been better, Redd. You've been causing a lot of problems lately. Now what is it you want?"

Redd shrugged theatrically, splaying his palms. "Sorry about that. Though I do believe I was clear with my video earlier. I'd like to see you, face to face. No cameras, no PA systems. No tricks, no body doubles."

Was that a knife in Redd's hand? No, nothing. A trick of the light, a video oddity.

"Before that, I have one question. How did you get here?"

"Walked."

"The site has been on lockdown and you were able to avoid surveillance for most of your trek despite us having a satellite meant to track Mister Lost. And you somehow not only knew of this Wing, but how to access it."

"Like I said, I walked. As for why I knew, call it insider information. Now, please do get in here."

Again, a glimpse of black in his palm. A jagged shadow that played hell with the lighting of the room.

With great trepidation O5-4 unlocked the blast door and dodged Lost as he darted past. After watching the Little Mister run down the hall, the Overseer stepped into the room. It smelled of disinfectant and lilac, thanks to the small aromatizer next to the bed. He felt his heart hammer away at his throat as he looked to Redd, and clench slightly when the child gave him a little wave.

Redd gestured to the armchair on the opposite side of the bed. Once they were both seated Redd cupped his hands together and sighed.

"So, this is it," Redd said. "The finale. The brief period after a long sentence that drips with the taste of freedom. How long have you been doing this job?"

The Overseer was silent.

Redd smiled. Four would have sworn the overhead lights took on a slightly bloody hue.

"I," Redd finally said, "have been a Little Mister for… what is it, almost twenty years? Something like that. It's been difficult, let me tell you."

Redd looked down at the dagger in his hand, which was now all too real. With something akin to reverence he lifted it up and dragged the shadow across his own throat, cutting so deep his exposed trachea whistled softly. Red ran down his shirt. But it clung at odd places, depicting runes that sat at the edge of the Overseer's memory. Lightning lanced out and into the damage, the blood draining as red sparks healed the wound.

The Little Mister took another breath, "And there's no getting away from it. It won't let me go. As long as this stupid dirt ball keeps spinning, I'm going to be here. Unchanging. Undying. Unable to feel much beyond blinding rage."

He smiled again. "But what if I stopped the spinning? What if I could stop it all? What if I could stop hurting? I'd have to try, right?"

"If that's your intention, why bring me here? Why drag the other two around?"

"I guess I needed some kind of... closure," Redd said, his eyes distant.

I walked. I don't know how long, but I did. I know that much. I somehow ended up at the Wonderworks, the place that had eluded me for so bloody long. And it was running. No old man, but the place was bustling all the same. It was the gods damned child! The oh, so lovely Isabel! But what could I do to her? She was in the same sort as me, in a way. She asked me why you pricks hadn't collected me yet. I didn't really have an answer, but I figured, why not? Not like I had anything else to do. Suicide wasn't the option, as you can plainly fucking see!

But as I got closer, I got this feeling. This itching, burning sensation digging into my soul— if I even have one anymore. There was a thing, locked deep in the hole my brothers were buried. It spoke to me in ways I'll never be able to convey to you. Just. Fuck. It felt good. And I knew. I knew! I always thought I was just subject to anger issues, but all along I was a subject to the King!

Did you know gods can't die? They just… fade, waiting for their time to come again. But they still leave corpses. Something to jam a spigot into and tap into whatever power might be left lying around. The old man must have gotten desperate. Brass wasn't enough, even as big as the corpse he got pulled from is. A Broken universe still yields a Broken power, and a sliver of a fragment isn't worth much of anything. So he tried something a bit more intact, and…

...

What was I talking about? …Wait. Wait, no…

...

I used to say I have these… lucid moments. It's like— Do you wear glasses? You look the type. That brief time when you put them on, when your eyes see both through and around the lens. And everything just seems to warp around you as the glass rushes forward, the world shifts as the filter expands. You wear them long enough and you stop seeing the frames in your vision, don't feel the arms on your ears anymore.

...

I can't tell if my humanity is the prescription or the astigmatism anymore.

And I don't care. I'm so, so sick of it all. My eyes are strained to the point of bleeding and I can't close them. But at least that means I get to watch the end.

Redd eventually stirred from his trance. "Here, I want you to have this." He removed the bookmark from its spot and unfolded it before handing it over.

O5-4 stared at the list. One line in particular drew his eye.

14. Mr. Redd (discontinued) ✔

The man stood there for a moment, eyes unfocused. Somewhere in his mind the twentieth slot was filled. He leaned to the right, his hand out as if ready for a cane to take the weight. After a moment he caught his balance and examined his right hand, then the left, flexing and clenching them. He straightened back up and examined the room.

The former body of O5-4 took a breath.

Mister Collector let it out.

Collector reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp piece of paper, uncrumpled despite its confines.

He let out a small chuckle. The paper between his thumb and middle finger, he snapped, and a bubble formed around the parchment. It floated just above his palm, bounced when he tapped it. He gave the top of the bubble a light pat and it collapsed into itself, away for him to take out later.

"How you feeling?" Redd asked from his seat.

"Better than I have in years," Collector responded. When he spoke, Redd sat up. Squinted. "And yourself?"

"You—!" Redd flew forward, knife in hand.

Collector slapped it away into a bubble, which soared just out of Redd's flailing grasp. Redd drew another from his sleeve and threw it, only for it to be caught in another bubble. Red in the face, Redd swung a fist while simply producing a dagger from his palm. Collector caught the punch and a silky bubble wrapped itself around Redd's hand. He pulled and yanked and was only able to free himself when he released his grip on the third shadow knife.

"How?!" Redd demanded. "You should be dead! The girl said you were dead!"

"I likely am. The me you are speaking to is merely a copy, made prior to Mister Forgetful erasing 'me' from my old body. Whatever was left in the body of Isiah Crawford after that was Doctor Wondertainment, though with a bit too much Factory mixed in for my taste. I suppose I remember all that because Forgetful couldn't get to me as I was merely in potentia. You remember Mister Mad?"

"He was a fucking— were we all just tests? A fucking training ground?"

"Not all of you, no." Mister Collector, née Doctor Wondertainment smiled. It lacked its old rainbow glow but it shined all the same. "Forgetful and Stripes to cover my tracks, the latter's brother to get you all here…" The smile faded. "…Scary. Ahem. Truth be told, this whole Collector concept was done fairly late into the project's development. I mostly wanted to see how things would turn out. How is Isabel doing?"

Redd glowered. "So then why was I made?"

The old man narrowed the eyes that weren't really his. "Hmm. You were a gamble, I suppose. Of course, I made a grave error— as they say, always bet on black."

Redd grabbed Collector by the collar. "Do you think this is a fucking joke? That I am somehow funny?"

"Not as such. My apologies, I was trying to lighten the mood. What would you like me to say? That you were a defect? That I condensed a power that was much more destructive than I could have imagined and pumped it into some young man's veins? I tried to change you, but you just wouldn't take much. So Redd you became."

Redd released his grip, his face expressionless. "So I'm a mistake."

Collector straightened his tie. "I would more say… an unfortunate surprise. But who doesn't like surprises?"

"Ha…" Redd reeled back, smiling. It took another few seconds for his face to move again. "I'll show you a surprise."

"And what's that?"

The grin in Redd's mouth was almost as sharp as the knives in Collector's bubbles. "That would be telling, dear father. Can't spoil the surprise."

Redd sidled next to the child's bed and smiled down at her. Katherine smiled back up at him, her gaze occasionally edging toward the other Mister. Redd sat down, the impact bouncing the book up and off of the bed. A chuckle left him as he bent over to get it.

Redd set the book down in the center of the bed. He traced out a curved knife on the cover. A spark of red followed his fingertip, outlining the weapon. Once completed the red flickered and was filled with black. Redd slipped the knife off the book as one would a playing card and held it for Collector to see. When Redd turned it so that the blade faced Collector, it appeared to merely be a wispy black line flickering in the light.

"Are you ready?" Redd asked Katherine in a soft voice.

The child took a few breaths. "Are you sure you can? I don't want Him getting hurt."

Redd twirled the knife in one hand and brushed back her hair with the other. "These people may have locked him away, but I just so happen to have the key."

With trembling fingers she lifted up her gown to expose her belly. Brands marked the swollen skin, dull and dark. They crackled like coal when Redd touched them. Katherine laid flat and squeezed her eyes shut.

The twisted scalpel slipped into her, the blade so fine she didn't wince. But as Redd ran the knife across her, she began to scream. The runes on her skin sizzled as Redd cut through them, vapor rising into the air. Within the girl, red and purple pulsed and writhed, her womb mangled and distended. It squished and squelched as her yelling became racking sobs.

All the while, Collector stood impassively at the foot of the bed. He had seen as bad, caused worse, but a twinge of guilt struck him as he thought of Sweetie. Hopefully she would at least speak to him when he found her. Collector stirred from his thoughts when Redd cleared his throat, knife hanging over the mess.

"Don't lose focus, old man. You're about to witness the birth of a new era. Or, at least, the death of this one."

The knife dropped.

Rather than cut or tear into the tissue, the dagger simply sank into it. Black into a mottled red. But as it was swallowed, a pinprick of bright red showed itself. There was a moment of stillness, even within the girl, as the shadows cast across her intestines swirled to the red.

The room was suddenly all too full. The smell of iron was nearly palpable, a loud ripping sound the only thing accompanying Katherine's now-resumed screams. Hardened flesh that matched the color of a dying sun dripped with blood and placenta. It pressed everywhere within the room, on the walls, under the bed, even within the inhabitants. The ceiling began to crack, and then the tearing sound intensified enough to drown out the sobs.

The ceiling exploded. The earth and concrete above it was obliterated as the thing rose, level after level was leveled by the growing expanse. It grew as it rose, each rising floor destroyed in a greater capacity. Eventually Site-██ was exposed to the open air, where dark clouds were beat about by a pair of reverse wings. Eleven mouths creaked open to take their first breaths.

Foundation personnel stared up in slack-jaw awe. At a distance, civilians who could spot at least the crown of horns began to panic. Down in the medical room, the trio remained. A thin umbilical cord connecting Katherine to her son. Redd cackled and pointed the monstrosity out to the spent child. Collector tapped the side of his head and a bubble formed around it.

The Seventh Son spoke. Clouds broke and the sky cracked under the weight of his words. The air itself tasted of blood. All those within the range of His mighty voice felt crimson run out their ears, with the exception of a single man standing in the center of it all. His bubble vibrated rainbows against the onslaught, but held.

"Do you see?!" Redd yelled, none hearing him over the din. He touched the blood coming from his ear and showed Collector. "It's over! I can finally be over!"

Once the bubble stopped shaking, Collector popped it. The world was silent, waiting for the Son's next words. He took the umbilical cord in his hand and proffered it to Redd. A crack of a smile broke Redd's face. From nowhere he produced another dagger and with no amount of ceremony separated mother and child.

Knowing this, the Seventh Son drew another breath. When He spoke again, His words fell on deaf ears. The air around him shimmered slightly, reflecting a rainbow in places.

Collector lowered his hand from where he had touched the Scarlet King's spawn. Something stuck to his hand, which he wiped off on the bed sheet. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie again.

After a moment he turned to Redd, a small smile on his lips. "I'm so sorry, I'm afraid I couldn't hear you over all the noise. What were you saying?"

Redd said nothing. He did nothing, for a short time. Then his eye twitched. He looked at the shimmer of the bubble around the Seventh Son, at the stain on the bed sheet. Bony palms dug into his eyes as he tried to rub whatever nonsense was clouding his vision. When he looked again, the scene was the same.

"…No," Redd finally said, a full sword in his hand. He slashed at the bubble, the blade digging into the film. Then it flew out of his hand as the bubble pushed back. "No."

Collector watched Redd attack the bubble over and over again with a variety of shadow weapons. After a dozen or so weapons were embedded in the wall behind him, Redd slashed at his own hands and thrust the scarlet lightning into the bubble. It did nothing but catch the light.

"No!" Redd repeated, turning on Collector. "No."

"Sorry, is this distracting you?" Collector said. He raised a palm and snatched away the Seventh Son, now the size of a newt contained within the ball in the Little Mister's hand. "I'll put it away."

Redd watched his savior vanish with a whimsical pop! Mouth agape, he turned to his Queen. She couldn't look back, her eyes glazed over. Her breaths came in short, ragged bursts. Redd ground his teeth together and turned back to Collector.

With a mouth full of blood and darkness, Redd yelled, "No!"

He stumbled forward, knife in hand without the usual motion. It buried itself in Collector's chest.

"No!" Redd screamed, spraying blood in Collector's face. He pulled the knife out of his brother/father and continued stabbing him. "No. No! NO!"

Blood flew from the knife with each stab. Droplets froze in midair, catching other sprays and sloshing together into hovering bubbles of blood. Color drained from Collector's face as Redd's gained more and more.

"No…" Redd whispered, losing breath. His arm fell, opening a large gash across Collector's stomach. The knife fell and disintegrated, merging with the shadow cast by the last blood orb. A tear droplet met it. "No…"

Collector/Isiah hugged his brother/son. Redd sobbed against the offered shoulder. When the cries weakened in strength, Collector led Redd back to his seat. Redd fell into it and wrapped himself in his jacket. With a flick of his wrist Collector brought the crimson orbs into himself. By the time he finished collecting what shadow weapons remained he regained his color, though he moved slowly. He went about pop!ing the armaments away save for one. He took it out of its bubble and sat on the arm of the chair, between Redd and Katherine.

"I can't say this is how I envisioned the family reunion," Collector mused. "But I think I can afford you at least one gift."

Redd almost laughed. "What could you possibly give me?"

"Less give." Collector tapped Redd's forehead. "More take."

Redd blinked. He stared at the swirling hate bubbled in front of him. He winced when it vanished with a light tap from Collector. Emptiness filled him. Wonderful, calming emptiness. Tranquil, simple serenity.

Redd felt where Collector had prodded him. "It… it's gone?"

"Simply somewhere else."

Redd nearly sprang from his chair. "The girl! You could… take whatever they did to her out? Make her right?"

"I don't believe they made her wrong," Collector said, turning his gaze to Katherine. "If the Scarlet King could enter this world without humanity's help, he would have done it already. She chose this life for him. There is nothing for me to take from her, except…"

The black dagger seemed to try to catch the light in his hand.

"At least let me do it," Redd urged.

"I didn't wash your hands of blood just for you to dirty them again, Redd," Collector replied. "What's a few more drops on mine?"

He was silent for a moment, and then Redd said, "I don't think I really want that name anymore."

"Oh?"

He closed his eyes. The roiling red sea of his mind was now a calm blue. "I'm thinking Bluee."

"Blue?"

"With two E's."

Collector wheezed a laugh. "So be it. Excuse me one moment, Bluee."

It was over quick. Bluee found it hard to look at her, so he covered her up.

"So… what now?" Bluee asked.

"Now you enter one of the Foundation's little boxes, like your siblings," Collector said.

"What? That's it?" Bluee stood. "No, that isn't fair, it can't just end like-"

Collector held up a hand, and Bluee went silent. Collector reached into his pocket slowly, like the old man he looked to be. "You may be free of the Scarlet King's branding, but not of Wondertainment's. I'm in the body of a Foundation Overseer now. We have to act our parts."

Collector finally retrieved the paper he had pulled from his pocket earlier. He offered it to Bluee, who took it gingerly.

Wow! You've found them all and became Mr. Collector!!

But the fun isn't over yet, because now a whole new set of Misters will soon be in development, brought to you by our own Ms. Heir!

00. Mr. Collector ✔ 01. Mr. Chameleon ✔ 02. Mr. Headless ✔ 03. Mr. Laugh ✔ 04. Mr. Forgetful ✔ 05. Mr. Shapey ✔ 06. Mr. Soap ✔ 07. Mr. Hungry ✔ 08. Mr. Brass ✔ 09. Mr. Hot ✔ 10. Ms. Sweetie ✔ 11. Mr. Life and Mr. Death ✔ 12. Mr. Fish ✔ 13. Mr. Moon ✔ 14. Mr. Redd (discontinued) ✔ 15. Mr. Money ✔ 16. Mr. Lost ✔ 17. Mr. Lie ✔ 18. Mr. Mad ✔ 19. Mr. Scary ✔ 20. Mr. Stripes ✔

Bluee made a double take.

But the fun isn't over yet, because now a whole new set of Misters will soon be in development, brought to you by our own Ms. Heir!

Bluee looked up.

Collector's smile had more strength than the rest of his body combined. "Because we're not done yet."

#mr.Collector #scp redd #scp #Mr.redd #Mr.bluee #wondertainment #doctor wondertainment

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new2otomelol · 4 years

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Maid to the Rescue - Part 2 - KBTBB fanfic

I do not own the rights to KBTBB, Voltage does. This is just a fanfic made for fun! Hope you enjoy.

Two days later...

Preparation for rescuing the bidders took longer than expected, but when it comes to the prime minister, we have to be extremely thorough.

Night lights on the freeway breeze past me as I speed to my location. My heart beats in anticipation for what's to come; not out of fear, but excitement.

A year ago, a planned mode of attack would have never crossed my mind, in fact, many things scared me back then, not anymore.

A sudden beep lures me back to the present. "Siren! It's done! Net took his buddies out to the bar. Nix and I are taking off." I tap the earpiece in my ear to respond. "Great job everyone, I'm parking at the south end. Was the other vehicle dropped off and weaponized earlier?" Nix responds this time, "hell yes darling and I can't tell you how happy I am to be back with you all." God I missed my friend. "It's rock and roll time! Gage, do you have controls over the cameras and signal blockers for the warehouse?"

I hear a different beep this time, "yes sweetheart, there's 20 armed guards and a masked guy in there. Be safe. We're on standby for you." I click my earpiece one more time and give the code "operation GAMBLE is underway."

I park the car two blocks away from my intended location and exit the vehicle, proceeding to remove my weapons from the trunk. First, I store the tranquilizer guns on my side holsters and grab a couple of Glocks loaded with armor piercing rounds and other small bullets to cause damage, but hopefully not to kill. I place my knives on the inside holsters of my jacket as well and place a few hand-held darts on outside pockets of my my bulletproof vest. I have to anticipate the boys’ physical condition due to their current situation, they might be weak, or worse. Just in case, I prepared injections containing electrolyte solution and a bit of adrenaline educing drugs and store them in a small container on the inside of my boots. I finish off with my face scarf covering everything except for my eyes and connect my earpiece to the side of my tactical helmet that is equipped with automatic night vision and other goodies. Clad all in black I walk toward my destination in the darkness of night.

I reach the rear entrance of a dilapidated warehouse and notice a guard standing outside the door; a parking lot light hardly illuminates his area of supervision. I make my way slowly behind him as he leans lazily on his side against the door, attempting to ignite his lighter for some much needed nicotine relief. The man suddenly jerks as he notices a shadow on the ground creep up from behind and a sudden sting on his neck, but it's too late to react as the Ketamin in the dart takes effect. I catch him quickly and ease him down on the ground as he falls. It's nighty night for a few hours sweetheart.

I hurriedly pick the lock on the door with my tools and enter a very brightly-lit hallway that seems to have a couple of doors. The building itself is old and has been abandoned for some time, but these guys get use of everything the government owns, thanks to the prime minister.

I scope the area out and discover one of the rooms to be the security camera section, bingo! I tap the side button of my helmet to connect to my earpiece and contact Gage. "I'm about to take on the video security guys, let's start radio silence and jam all signals for 2 minutes." I whisper and hear a small beep as acknowledgment from Gage. I open the door slowly and find 3 men sitting in front of a set of 20 monitors. Some of the videos I could tell had been looping thanks to Gage's crafty hacking. I slowly take out 2 tranquilizer auto-injectors and sprint towards the men stabbing the two to my left and quickly taking another to engage the third guard. The poor man is taken by surprise which causes him to react late. He reaches for his radio and turns pale as he notices there is no signal detected. He lunges towards me in an attempt to strangle me, but I side-step him quickly and tranq him as he passes me.

I honestly feel bad for the men, they're only doing their job, but still, these are the bad guys Lisa, focus! I turn my attention to the monitors and notice that most of the views of the warehouse are set to observe outside and to a couple of the hallways, then I spot them, the bidders. The men are sitting on what looks like steel chairs that are volted to the ground and restrained with chains that are all connected to the center of the room held by one large lock. This should be easy enough.

I engage my comm and contact Lucy. "Alright Luce, I can see where the guards are and have acquired their location, go ahead and cut off the lights and block cellphone and radio signals again, we don't want them to communicate with each other."

"Sweetheart are you sure you want to go fully silent? We won't be able to get to you in time should something happen." Gage interjects. "I'm sure guys. I got this. Stay ready for part 2 of the plan and I will contact you in the next 15 minutes, if not, send help."

"Roger Siren!" I hear them all say and then the audio goes dead. The lights cut out almost immediately activating my night vision visor. I take out my dart guns and walk out to the hallway once again.

I can hear the rushing of footsteps all around the factory as confusion and chaos sets into to their reality. I run down the hall to the second door and before I can open it, one of the men bursts in. I take a step back and shoot him with a dart. Once he falls to the ground I notice two more behind him and shoot them as well. Seven down, 13 more left.

I jump over their bodies and make it to the main open area of the warehouse. I look around to find the stairs, I need to reach the second floor. The scene before me is almost comical as I see these tough men in suits scramble around in the dark aiming their weapons at nothing and sometimes at each other. "What the fuck man? Somebody must have broken in!" one man yelled. "Dude, better not shoot at anything, we need to get our flashlights! Where's our boss?" another yells. The first idiot answers back, "he's upstairs with those assholes!"

I try not to laugh at their dialogue and shoot them and 5 other men with darts; 10 to go. I rush up the staircase and notice beams of light coming from the railing. Crap, they found their flashlights.

"I see something!" one of them yells as I climb up the last few steps and spots me. He runs towards me in an attempt to tackle me. I drop my now empty tranquilizer guns and take out one of the auto injectors. I open my stance to let him get to me as he clashes to my torso, I bring up my knee with much force to strike him in his diaphragm, knocking all the air out of him. He pins me against a wall and coughs roughly, gasping for air. I stab the needle in his arm to tranq him and knock him out.

I hear the whistling sound of a bullet pass me by as I realize the rest of the men on the second floor with me and some have me in their sights. I push the man off of me and take out one of my Glocks as I roll out of the way and hide behind a metal cabinet. I hear many more shots, but I crouch low and shoot out their flashlights, gaining back my cover.

I venture out once more and pass by two men before another one manages to grab me by the neck and squeezes tightly as he realizes that he has acquired me. I hold on to his arm and perform a scissor kick, entangling my legs around his neck and shifting our weight breaking his center of axis, taking us both down to the ground and knocking him out successfully.

Hearing the scuffle, 3 other men walk towards me, trying to feel their way around in the dark. I shoot each of the men’s legs where I know it won't be fatal and quickly get up and run towards the door at the end of the hall where my targets are located.

Keeping the count going, I have 5 men left to go and the masked idiot as well. I take a step back against the metal railing and support myself as I kick down the door that leads me to the bidders. Once the door is smashed I roll out of the way and take cover behind the wall next to the door. As expected, the masked man remained inside with the rest of the guards. They quickly shoot a few rounds and stop to reload.

The lights suddenly flicker back on. Figured as much, I knew one of the men I left alone would eventually make it to the breaker and restart the system. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I know and have planned for. "Come out you bastard or we shoot them!" a man’s voice calls out from the room.

So cliché, can't criminals be a bit more creative? Laser sharks? Something more fun? Ugh, alright, time to end this. I stand up and walk in slowly while waiving my guns in the air as a form of surrender.

"Now what in the world do we have here?" Says the masked man. As expected, he is confused by my physique. Why would an intruder be skinny and shaped like a woman? Men, so predictable. I look at Eisuke, Mamoru, Ota, Soryu and Baba and thank goodness they are aware enough to see what is going on. It won't take much to get them going, although, poor guys, they look very roughed up and dehydrated.

The masked man lowers his gun, preparing himself to make a villainous speech and I take advantage of his ideocracy. I drop my guns to give him false hope that I am turning myself in, causing the men to laugh. They should have paid attention to my fingers, my throwing knives are hooked and ready to go.

It all happens in slow motion for me I start to swing the knives quickly into position and throw them. First, I am at the masked man's shooting hand, stabbing him right through his wrist. I then start to cart wheel to the side as one of the men begins to fire and I throw two more knives with one hand, hitting both men as I use my other hand to support my movement. I end up croouching next to Eisuke because I know the guards are under strict orders to not shoot him or the others.

"Bitch! Come out here and fight us!" One of the remaining two men states as the others either tend to their wounds or run away. I laugh a little too loud by accident and one of the men catches it, grunting in frustration.

Eisuke looks down at me and whispers, "I don't know who you are, but do you have a death wish?" I shrug it off, if he only knew who he was speaking to. "Okay, so does that mean you want to fight hand to hand?" I yell out to the remaining morons.

The men whisper to each other, more than likely coming up with some sort of half-assed strategy. "We're lowering our weapons, come out, right fucking now." I place my guns on the floor and kick them away. I stand up and walk towards the men. As expected, one of them pulls out a knife while the other tries to pull out his gun from his back belt-holster. I run towards the man with the knife and smash my left arm in an angled swing against his right arm as hard as I can, causing him to drop his knife. I hold onto his biceps pushing his arms back and using them for balance as I plant my left leg down and kick hard at the man that was reaching for his gun, hitting him right under his chin with the heel of my right boot. I then shift the top part of my body back arching as much as possible, grabbing and pulling the knife guy hard, flipping him downward, smashing his head on the floor with his own momentum. Before I can hit the ground, I had let go of the man used my arms to support me leaving me in a wheel position, except for my extended right leg. I bring that leg down hard on top of the guard’s head, propelling the lower part of my body up and helping me flip upside up again. Both men end up knocked out.

I move quickly go to collect the guns from the floor as I hear a startled Baba yell, "Holy shit, that was amazing pretty lady!" I laughed again, they have no clue of who I am and no way to know as my helmet disguises my voice. I take a quick bow for fun and quickly look around again to get my bearings straight. At least two men are able and out there somewhere and masked freak has run out of the room like a wounded dog.

I re-upholster my guns and take out the case holding the electrolyte coctails I made for the men. As I take the auto-injectors out, the men begin to panic a bit. "What are you going to do with those?" Soryu yells. "Relax gentlemen. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already (I always wanted to say that). These are to help you get rehydrated and give you the strength you need to follow me out of here, I can't carry you all."

I head to Mamoru first and stab him on one of his legs and do the same to the rest of the men. "Who are ya kid?" Mamoru starts off the inevitable round of questioning. I go to the center of the room and begin working on the massive lock that is holding all of their chains together. Jesus, masked man has a flair for the dramatic for sure. The lock seems complicated, but I begin to work on it. "Look pops, right now is not the time." He scoffs in frustration.

"Who sent you?" Eisuke asks. It takes me a minute and the lock finally gives way, I don’t have time for idle conversation and have to ignore them. "Alright men, listen to me. You can begin pulling your chains, they are lose now." I look up at them as they stand, then see that they have thick metal cuffs, stupid masked man. I take a small container of acid I carry for just such occasions. "Okay, show me your cuffs. I will be putting a drop of acid on the hinges. Be sure to shake them off quickly." The men do as told, but not without making a fuss about it all. "What else ya got on you?" Mamoru asks, trying to be funny. I remain silent, focusing on my plan.

"Okay men, we are heading out of this warehouse towards the back end. I anticipate that we'll be followed so we have a great cinematic car chase to look forward to. Be sure to grab some guns from the ground. Let's go!"

PART 3 COMING SOON...

#kbtbb fanfiction #kbtbb fanfic #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb mc #kbtbb #kbtbb ota #eisuke

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aries-writingblog · 3 years

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Atlas (7)

Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)

Chapter Word count: 1082

Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there

Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.

A/N: this is my first work I'm posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!

Bucky’s fist collided with the door again. There was a major dent in the metal now. He cursed as the vibranium bounced off the metal again. He didn’t know what was going on out there. Tessa had been taken away and fifteen minutes later, all he could hear were her screams. All hell broke loose and he began raging around his cage, pounding at the door and concrete, frantically searching for a weak spot.

It had fallen quiet again, which couldn’t have been anything good. He pressed his forehead to the metal, his stomach in knots. He just wanted to hold Tessa again- she had seemed so lost and guilty. All he wanted was to tell her she wasn’t at fault- and make her believe it.

Tessa’s throat was raw. She was sweating and panting, exhausted. Too much of her blood was taken. She was slightly delirious at the sight of her skin being carved on her forearm and hand. Clifton had decided he wanted to research how her skin cells resisted the heat of her flames- basically skinning her alive. Her ankles and wrists burned at the chaffing leather straps holding her to the metal table. She had been injected with something, the IV in her arm, preventing her powers from working. Clifton’s face appeared above her again. She was spinning in and out of consciousness at this point.

“Hush, little pet- I’ve only gotten half of what I want now. If you want that specimen you call a friend to survive, you must cooperate.” He threatened, his voice lighter than his words. Tessa’s head lolled to the side as a crash was heard outside of the door. Clifton’s head snapped up to a soldier arming the doorway. “What was that- I thought you were all monitoring the perimeter?”

“I’ll go check it, sir. Could’ve been one of ours.” He replied sharply, exiting to investigate the source of the noise. Clifton grunted in agreement before holding up another scalpel.

“Now, pet... I simply must know, what keeps your heart from exploding in your chest?” He trailed the metal down her sternum, her Kevlar vest long gone by now. “Did you even know that was a danger?”

“Go... to hell- J.R...” she panted, her lips dry and cracking. Her brown eyes drooped, almost closing with the amount of effort it was taking to keep her awake. He clicked his tongue, disappointed in her response.

“See, your normal body temperature is a steady 118 degrees Fahrenheit. At this temperature, a normal human body would begin to boil- your organs turning to mush. Seizures and comas and death would occur in time. But you,” he sliced the fabric of her shirt down the middle, opening it up to reveal her chest. Tessa ground her teeth, anxiety and terror flooding her collapsing veins. “Your systems work perfectly fine, no damage to the circulatory system at least. I’d like to take a peek at how the others are running.”

Tessa shifted as much as she could, trying to evade the precision of his scalpel. A terrified whine slipped from her throat as she felt the metal press down. Then- the door exploded. Clifton ducked for cover behind the table before leaping back to his feet.

“Touch her again and it’ll be the last thing you do.” Steve’s voice growled from her right. Tessa let out another sound, this one of relief. The team found them. She could only hope they found Bucky first. To get him to safety.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. America-“ Clifton chuckled darkly, a rasp forming in his voice. “You should learn to negotiate better, i believe I have the leverage in this situation so you should really talk a little nicer to me.” The point of the scalpel pressed into her chest, drawing blood. Steve shifted, keeping his eyes on the doctor and his scalpel.

“Just let her go, this can still end peacefully.” Steve’s words fell upon deaf ears as Clifton’s eyes trailed back down to his subject.

“I’m afraid it cannot. This creature was of my creation and she was a bad girl- hasn’t she told you the story?” He asked, grinning manically. Tessa pulled weakly against the straps again, panic filling her soul as she realized what he was going to tell Steve.

“No-“ she growled, yanking at her confinement. Clifton dug a little deeper with the scalpel, causing her to stop and groan, throwing her head back in pain.

“This little one set fire to six men- men who trusted her to lead them through danger.” He reported, glancing to Steve, whose expression remained in a tight grimace. “Then she took the praise when she saved one, never acknowledging the death she bestowed her other men. Isn’t that right, Atlas?”

Tessa didn’t even give him a response, dark spots taking over her vision, disoriented and foggy. She felt the point dig in deeper.

“And what happens to dogs when they misbehave?” Clifton asked. Steve shifted closer, trying to find some way to get to her. “They are sadly... put down.”

The scalpel was shoved deep into her chest, causing Tessa to gasp before her lung began filling with blood. In that same moment, a shot was fired, Clifton falling to the ground. Steve turned his head, seeing Natasha behind him, holding a smoking gun. She avoided his gaze as they sprinted to Tessa. Tessa grasped at Steve’s arm weakly as he began pulling her from the table.

“I’m...sorry.” She gurgled, blood splattering onto her lips.

“It’s alright... don’t talk- just try and focus on me now, okay?” He scooped her up, trying not to jostle her around too much. Natasha gently pressed a towel to the wound around the scalpel, keeping a light pressure. “Just keep your eyes on me- stay awake, Tess.”

She only gave a noncommittal grunt, her eyes falling prey to her demise. Steve cursed as they began to flutter. They started moving down the hallway, leaving Clifton’s body to decompose where it lay.

“Tessa?” He asked, bumping her head gently with his arm. “Shit- Nat!”

“On it- I’ll set up a spot in the jet so we can try to keep her alive until we get to the Tower. We can only triage her until we get there.” Natasha began to run ahead of him, her intent clear.

“It’s gonna be enough.” He mumbled to himself. He blinked back tears that threatened to fall on Tessa’s ashen face. “It’ll be enough.”

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fic #bucky x oc

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bunny-wk-fanfic · 5 years

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Personal Indulgence 2

A little something that I’ve written a good while back and have been holding onto for whatever reason. I hope everyone enjoys this!

The 1920’s were, well, they were roaring. Only, Kagome never thought she would get to experience them first hand. Not that she had anything against experiencing new things, or new times, she would rather be able to do so while not on the run. She was still lost on how she got to be in the beginning of the 20th century, and with the Shikon was still in her possession after all, she was quick to learn that there were many that knew of its existence. A whole magical community of witches, wizards, and magical beings.

Sadly, there was at current a rise of a wizard that was set on world domination, somehow word of the Shikon got to him and so she was on the run. It was a lot harder to fight against evil using magic when most of the world stopped believing in it at large. Again, if she weren’t on the run, she would have enjoyed her travels. Across China and Hong Kong, India, Egypt, Turkey, across Europe, and now on a ship to America. Sadly, she didn’t stay anywhere long enough to enjoy the sights and cultures. The magical community had impressive means of travel to catch up with her.

“Kirara?” her steps were only slightly muffled against the thin carpet, arms wrapped tight around herself as her gaze flickered over every corner. “Kirara, this isn’t funny!” her hushed tones still rang loudly in her ears.

While it wouldn’t be that odd to see a cat on the ship, even in this age, one with two tails would be quick to gain attention. And there was the fact that she was still getting used to sensing witches and wizards. What with their damn ‘notice me not muggle’ spells and charms.

“Kira-!” she paused when she heard a faint mew from further up ahead. Holding still, even her breath, she waited until she heard it again before rushing towards where she thought the source could be. Another downfall about witches and wizards, the moment she sent out her abilities to sense and search, they became aware of her themselves. Not directly knowing who or what was going on, but they immediately went on edge. “Kirara!”

Turning a corner, she spotted the Nekomata sitting facing a corner while looking up at a fire extinguisher. “Kirara, you scared me running off like that.” her brows furrowed when Kirara gave her a quick glance only to return her gaze to the fire extinguisher with a softer mew. “Did you find something?”

Approaching the corner herself, Kagome began to examine the brass container, giving Kirara an absent scratch behind her ears. It took a few moments, but she quickly saw what had attracted Kirara’s attention. “Oh! Hello there.”

The little critter was a mix of twig and praying mantis, green in color with spindly limbs that ended in fine points. It made the lightest of noises as it peeked out from behind the extinguisher, tiny eyes turning between her and Kirara.

“You look lost, do you need some help?” she raised a hand, holding it within the critter’s reach. “Come on, I’m not going to hurt you. And neither is my friend here.” head tipping to the side, she watched as it chirped and chittered before slowly climbing into her hand.

It’s limbs, ones that could be called hands, wrapped around her thumb as it tipped it’s head up to look up at her. “Well then, let’s get you back where you belong, huh?” raising her hand up to her shoulder, she waited a few moments before she felt it tuck itself behind her ear under her hair. With her hands free, Kirara was able to jump up and rest securely in her hold. “Well, let’s see if we can get there first.”

With slow steps, Kagome began walking back down the hall. Every so often she would pause or stop when she heard a squeaky little chirp, a pat to her neck, or gentle tug to some hair. There were few other passengers awake at this time, but the ones that were, were drawn to Kirara more than herself. Thankfully, all she needed to do was twist her tails around each one another to make it look more look like a single fluffy tail.

That, and it wouldn’t look good to appear as if she were talking to herself. “Are we getting close?” no sooner had she asked the critter, did Kirara once again take off running. “Kirara-! Seriously… we’re supposed to be lying low.” with a sigh, she picked up her skirts and took off after her.

How she missed the sneakers of her past, sturdy shoes that were perfect for running in. And lighter, if not shorter, skirts. Kagome managed to keep her sights on the whipping tails of Kirara. Following her down the corridors, Kagome was hoping that her friend wasn’t discovered, nor that word about her got back to this supposed dark wizard.

Turning the last corner, her body tipped forward when she came to a sudden stop. Wide eyes blinked at spotting Kirara purring under the obvious affection being given to her by a strange man. Now normally, she wouldn’t care, what with how kind and patient Kirara was. But both of her tails were visible.

“...Kirara?” fingers tightening in the heavy material of her skirt, she froze when the man looked up and spotted her.

Pale eyes stared up at her as she stared back, taking in the whole appearance of this man. Blue coat, mustard vest, gray pants, brown shoes, bowtie… strawberry blond hair that curled over his brow. He appeared lanky, and would mostly like tower over her own height.

Turning her gaze back down to Kirara, she bit down on her lip unsure of what to do in this situation. He obviously wasn’t surprised with Kirara’s appearance, meaning he was most likely a wizard.

“Pickett!” the suddenness of the call from the man had Kagome looking back up to him, flinching when he was suddenly approaching her and obviously reaching out towards her while holding Kirara. “Oh, I’m sorry. You… you have my friend there.”

“...and you have mine.” her voice trembled a bit, emotions surging forth and making it hard for her to process the situation.

His gaze dropped from her shoulder to Kirara, said Nekomata purring softly as she stared up at Kagome.

“Again, I apologize. I’ve just never seen a Nekomata before. They’re very rare.” he gently offered her Kirara back.

Offering a small smile, Kagome returned the favor, using her hand as a sort of platform for the critter to climb up on. “I’ve never seen one of your friends before either. A curious little one that seemed very eager to return to you.” a quiet giggle escaped her at the apparent happy chirps it gave off as it returned to the man.

“He’s a Bowtruckle.” the man offered with a smile as said Bowtruckle was quick to scurry up his arm and slip into a breast pocket of his jacket. “Thank you for bringing him back.”

Smiling, Kagome hugged Kirara a little closer to her. “Happy too.”

Hearing voices from behind, Kagome quickly looked over her shoulder in worry, a hand petting down Kirara’s back. She wasn’t going to take anymore chances, as her markings did garner too much unwanted attention, she quickly muttered the activation for the illusion that Shippo had given her to hide Kirara’s demonic heritage while using just the smallest part of her power.

Newt’s eyes widened slightly at the markings disappeared as the woman continued to pet along the Nekomata’s back, small glittering sparks trailing behind until the markings were gone. With the creature twining it’s own tails to make it look more like a single, if not more fluffier, tail, it looked like a normal cat. Just in time too, as two crewmen turned the corner and onto the corridor they were currently standing in.

“Oh! Is everything alright?” the younger of the two looked between them as the two paused.

“Ah, yes. Trouble sleeping is all.” the young woman offered easily, a tired smile lightening her face slightly as she continued to pet a low purring Nekomata.

The two men nodded, the older looking down at the cat. “Best to keep pets in your compartment.”

Blue eyes looked down at what now appeared to be a dozing cat. “Ah. I didn’t know how long my stroll would be, and I didn’t want her causing a fuss at being alone and disturbing others.”

Dark eyes narrowed but the older man nodded. “Alright. Just don’t let it out of your sight. And use your carrier from now on.” he tipped his hat a bit, as did the younger man, before the two of them bid their farewells and continued on their way.

Newt watched the woman, noting how her ease seemed to disappear when she was left alone with him which he found utterly odd. Was she possibly afraid to be alone with him? For what reason? It wasn’t like he could report her for smuggling dangerous magical creatures when he was doing the same, more or less.

Her eyes darted at the far ends of the corridor, feet shuffling as she bit down on her lower lip. “Well, I hope you have a pleasant evening.” she gave a quick bow of her head and was preparing to turn and make her obvious way back to her cabin.

But Newt did something he was not known for when it came to others, he reached out to stop her. “Wait!”

The fear in her eyes when she turned back to him shocked him. Now, he may not be like his brother, but he recognized fear from those he saved after they’ve been hunted down. Letting go, he raised his hands and took a step back. “I’m sorry! I just, I would like to know more about your friend. If- if that’s alright with you?”

At this point, the Nekomata peeked a wide red eye and stared at him. There was a level of intelligence there that surprised even him. The second eye opened and both were pinned on him, and he knew that he was being tested, the exactness on the how was lost to him. After what felt like forever, a quiet mew sounded in the air that was followed by a low purring as the Nekomata moved to nuzzle and cuddle beneath the woman’s chin.

“Well, Kirara seems to like you. So I guess I can trust you, for now.” lips were pursed as her posture eased a little, but she was still on alert.

Offering a smile, Newt bobbed his head. She didn’t know how telling her words were, but he knew he would have to take it slow. “I’m glad. I’m Newt Scamander.”

Blue eyes blinking wide, which he just realized seemed oddly out of place with the rest of her Asian characteristics, twinkled slightly as her lips twitched. “Newt Scamander?”

“Yes?” he didn’t know what she found amusing, but could only assume that it had to do with the fact that she obviously came from the far East.

“It… it sounds… adorable. It suits you.” her cheeks took on a light rosy hue as she smiled more freely at him before she face him completely. “Kagome Higurashi.”

Testing her name, he smiled at her giggles when she corrected him, watching her head bob when he finally got it correct. “If would like, I have somewhere safe for your friend to be themselves.” he indicated the direction back to his own tiny cabin.

The slight narrowing of his eyes was expected, the time it took before she finally agreed as well. “Try anything funny…” the threat hung in the air would have been amusing coming from such a small woman, but the large red eyes that were also pinned on him let him know that he wouldn’t have to contend with just the tiny woman.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” at the honesty in his tone, she once again relaxed and fell in step next to him, eager to share his own friends with this young woman and to see how she would react to them all. Hopefully, he would gain a friend with the woman that was a fellow kindred spirit when it came to understanding magical creatures.

#fanfiction #crossovers #family films #Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them #Newt Scamander #Kagome Higurashi

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bleachanimefan1 · 4 years

Text

King And Queen Of The Pirates

Chapter One, The Adventure Begins! I'm Gonna Be King/Queen of the Pirates!

It was a peaceful and calm day on the seas. The sun was shinning high in the sky. The seagulls were flying overhead. However, there was a huge whirlpool in the ocean. Suddenly, a giant ship passed by and two sailors on the starboard side shivered at the sight of the whirlpool. Then the two of them heard a thump and looked down. Floating in the water, was a barrel. The two men blinked and looked at each other in confusion.

Brushing it off, the two men tried to hoist the barrel out of the water and onto the ship. Another sailor was on the mast, looking around until he spotted something. Another ship heading towards theirs. A pirate ship. It was pink with hearts on it's sails. The ship fired it's cannons at the other ship. "Alarm the captain! The ship's under attack!" Shouted the sailor on the mast. The two men had managed to pull the barrel onto the ship heard the sailor, dropped the barrel onto the deck, which rolled away. The sailors ran into the ship's ballroom.

"The ship's under attack by pirates!" Exclaimed the sailors.

Everyone screamed and started panicking and running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. However, one girl was not afraid. She had short, light orange hair and light brown eyes. As soon as she heard that there was another ship, she darted out of the room.

Suddenly, the doors busted open as it was kicked and the ballroom was filled with blood-thirsty, vicious looking pirates. They all smirked at the scared passengers. "Heh, don't worry. We ain't gonna kill ya. Though, we will take all the rare stuff you got here." snickered one of the pirates.

"Anyone who tries to resist will be spending the rest of their lives at the bottom of the ocean," A new voice shouted.

A large heavy set woman walked into the room. She had greasy looking hair and beady narrow eyes. On her head was a white cowgirl hat and was wielding a spiked mace in her hand. Everyone trembled, not moving a muscle. The orange haired girl watched from a far while she hid, with a light smile on her face. She tore off her dress and was now wearing a blue and white stripped shirt with black shorts and a bandanna tied to her head. She ran off the ship and jumped onto the other one, while everyone was distracted.

During the chaos, the barrel had rolled itself into the kitchen. The ship's kitchen doors open and a small timid looking boy walked into the room. He had light pink hair and grey eyes and was wearing blue glasses and a cabin boy's uniform. "Is anyone here?" The boy asked. He received no response. He sighed and started looking around the kitchen. Then he spotted a barrel.

"Wow, that's the biggest barrel I ever seen," He said to himself as he started to push the barrel. Suddenly, three pirates blocked his away as he did as they walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, Coby. You're not hiding from us, are ya?" One of the pirates asked. Coby began to sputter. His whole body began to tremble, terrified.

"N-n-n-n-o way, g-g-guys! I-I was just talking to this b-barrel I found back to the ship. It looks like it's full of s-sake." The three pirates smirked.

"Sake, huh? Why don't we inspect it to make sure. Are you with me, boys?" One of the pirates asked as he took the barrel.

"But Lady Alvida will kill us!" Shouted Coby. The other pirates smirked.

"We won't be killed as long as you keep your trap shut! Now quiet!" Snapped one of the pirates. Coby trembled. The biggest pirate cracked his knuckles. "Hold on, boys. Let me open this the old fashion way," He said as he raised his fist and threw them down onto the barrel.

"I SLEPT SOOO GRREATTT!!!"

Suddenly, the barrel's lid popped open as someone busted out of it and shot out, colliding his fist with the bigger pirates face, knocking him out. The other two pirates and Coby gasped as their mouth's dropped as they gaped at the boy in the barrel. The boy looked like he was seventeen. He had short black hair, light tan skin, and small beady onyx-black eyes. Under his left eye was a small scar. He wore a red vest with a light blue shorts which reached his knees, straw sandals, and resting on his head was a straw hat. He blinked before he looked around at his surroundings.

"Who's he?" He asked as he saw the pirate he knocked out on the floor. He looked and also saw the other two pirates and Coby. "Who the hell are you guys?" He asked.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" shouted the other two pirates, angrily. The boy stepped out of the barrel.

"Your friend will catch a cold if he sleeping like that," He said.

"You're the one who knocked him out!!!" Shouted the other two pirates. One of them pulled out his sword. "Hold on. Are you playing with us, when you know we're vicious pirates!?" He demanded.

"I'm starved. Is there any food on this ship?" The boy asked Coby, ignoring the other pirates.

"I'm talking to you, brat!" Shouted the pirate as he and the other one raised their swords and slashed at the boy. Crack! Somehow, their swords broke in two. The two pirates stumbled back as they gaped in shock seeing that the boy was unharmed.

"What's wrong with you guys?" The boy asked.

"W-who are you? What are you?" Asked the pirates as they stared at the boy in horror. The boy brushed off the dirt off of his vest and smiled.

"Me? Oh, my name is Money D. Luffy! Hi!" Said Luffy as he grinned widely, showing his teeth. The pirates screamed in fear as they grabbed their knocked out comrade and ran out of the room, terrified.

"What...what just happened?" Asked Coby. Luffy shrugged his shoulders.

"Beats me." He said. Coby stood up.

"Quick! You gotta run! If they come back with their buddies, then you'll be killed on the spot!" He shouted. Luffy smiled.

"I don't care. Where's the food? I'm hungry." He said.

"How can you not care?! They are hundreds of them and they're willing to kill anybody!" Shouted Coby. Luffy wasn't listening. His nose twitched as he smelled a wonderful scent. He tried to walk towards the source while Coby was trying to hold him back. Luffy made it to the cellar and his eyes lit up.

"Food, hooray!" Luffy cheered. He ran around the room with his mouth drooling. Coby looked around making sure no one was coming as Luffy began to dig into a crate full of apples.

"Um...hi, my name is Coby. You're Luffy, right? It was really cool what you did back there." Said Coby as Luffy wolfed down the apples.

"These are so awesome." Luffy said as he wiped off the juice from his lips. He smiled. "I bet she would love some. I'd better save some for later." He thought as he stashed some in the pockets of his vest. "So, are we on a pirate ship or what?" Asked Luffy as he continued to eat.

"No. We are on a passenger ship that's being raided by pirates. Pirates under control of Lady Alvida." Coby said.

"Ah, I don't care about that. I just wanna know if there are any little boats on this ship," Luffy said.

"I think there might be a few," Coby said.

"Great! I need a new one 'cause my old one got sucked in by some whirlpool." Luffy said.

"You mean that huge one outside! And you survived?" Coby asked. Luffy smiled.

"Yep. You can say it was a great way to wake up after a long nap," He laughed. Coby smiled timidly. "So are you a pirate or a passenger?" Luffy asked. Coby looked down.

"Neither. I'm just some cabin boy. I was forced to be one because Lady Alvida's pirates captured me. They found out I was a great navigator, so, they let me live. That was two years ago." He confessed, sadly. Luffy stopped eating.

"You're pretty stupid, you know that?" He asked bluntly. Coby sunk his head.

"Gee, thanks for your honesty." He said, sarcastically.

"If you don't like it here so much, then leave," Said Luffy. Coby shook his head.

"No way! There's no way I can do that! I can't!" He yelled. Luffy smiled.

"Ha! You're stupid and cowardly. I hate people like you," He joked. Coby sulked then he smiled weakly.

"Heh, you're right. If I had any courage, I could sail away in a barrel and be free. I could live out my dream." He said. Luffy was quiet. "Oh, what about you, Luffy? What's the thing that drove you to sail on the seas?" Asked Coby. Luffy grinned.

"I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!" He exclaimed. Coby's mouth dropped.

"K-King? Are you serious?" He asked quietly with disbelief.

"Yep. You heard me," Luffy said, smiling.

"But-but that would mean you're a pirate too," Said Coby.

"That's right." Said Luffy.

"Your crew?" Asked Coby. Luffy shook his head.

"I don't have one yet, well, except for one,-"

Suddenly, the door slammed open and the two looked to see a girl standing there, sopping wet from head to toe as her clothes were completely drenched. Coby had to do a double take as his eyes darted back and forth at Luffy then back towards the girl. He saw that the girl was identical to Luffy. A twin in fact.

The only thing that was different, was that she had long black hair, which reach the middle of her back. Her skin was a lighter tone to her brother. It was a sickly pale white, which looked like she didn't go outside much. She was wearing a blue shirt with short sleeves and brown pants which reached down to her ankles and black sandals. What really draw his attention, was that she also had shimmering sea foam green eyes, instead dark black, like Luffy's. Then the girl narrowed her eyes as she glared at Luffy. She began to stalk over to them.

"Aya! You made it!" Luffy shouted happily.

"IDIOT!" Aya smacked Luffy hard on the back of his head with her fist.

Coby immediately backed away from the two, watching in fear. Aya grabbed Luffy by his shirt and began shaking him violently like a rag doll. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I HAD TO GO THROUGH TO GET HERE?!"

"You're alive aren't ya?" Luffy groaned.

Aya repeatedly smacked him. "I had to swim across with sea infested sharks! Nearly drowned in the whirlpool! And almost died in a barrage of gunfire!!! All because of your stupidity!" She screamed.

"Love you too, sis," Luffy smiled and laughed. His face was now swollen and beaten up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple holding it to Aya's face "Want one?" Asked Luffy. Aya blinked as she stared at the apple. She felt her stomach growl at the sight of it.

Aya rolled her eyes and sighed. She snatched the apple from his hand and dropped Luffy as she let go of his shirt. He slumped to the floor, rubbing his head. "This doesn't mean I'm letting you off easy," Aya murmured as she took a bite of the apple. "You're still in the dog house." Luffy smiled.

Then the girl noticed Coby cowering in the corner.

"And who the hell are you?" Aya asked. Coby jumped when she spoke to him.

"C-Coby," Coby sputtered, "Who are you?"

"I'm Aya, I'm this idiots sister," Aya said as she jerked her thumb at Luffy. "I'm gonna be Queen of the Pirates."

"Q-Queen?!" Coby sputtered.

"Geez, what a wimp," Aya said as she finished her apple and tossed the core away.

"So, you two are gonna be King and Queen of the Pirates. You're talking about gaining the treasure of fame, wealth, and power! The treasure you want is the One Piece!" Coby shouted. Luffy smiled.

"Yeah, you've got it all right," Luffy said.

"But, practically all the pirates in the world are looking for that treasure!" Coby yelled.

"Yeah, so?" Aya asked, shrugging.

"No way! There's no way you could survive them! They're ruthless and mean and they'll kill you right where you-oww!" Coby shouted as Aya and Luffy both punched him on the head. "Why did you hit me?" Coby asked as he rubbed his head.

"Cause I felt like it." The two twins said together.

"Ah well, I'm used to stuff like that. My shipmates bash me on the head all the time," Coby mumbled.

"It's not about if I can. I'm doing this because I want to," Luffy said. "My sister and I decided long ago that we wanted to be King and Queen of the Pirates. If we have to die fighting for that, then we die," said Luffy as he placed his hat on his head. Coby stood frozen in his spot.

"Well, I'm off. Now that my belly's full, I might as well get my new boat. I bet if I ask nice enough, they'll give me it," Luffy said as he and his sister began to walk out of the room.

"I never though about it like that. If I had that much courage, then do you think I could do it too?" asked Coby. Luffy and Aya turned to look at him.

"Do what?" asked Aya.

"Do you think...do you think I could ever join the Marines?" asked Coby. Luffy tilted his head.

"The Marines?" He asked.

"Y-yeah! Catching bad guys is the only thing I ever wanted to do! It's been my dream ever since I was a child! Do you think I could do it?" asked Coby. Luffy smiled and shrugged.

"I don't know. Do what you want to do." He said. Coby nodded.

"Ok, I will then! I won't be a cabin boy for the rest of my life! I'll leave and then become a Marine and then I can capture Alvida!" He shouted. Suddenly, the room started to shake then the ceiling came crashing down. As the dust settled, it was revealed to be Alvida.

"Who is it you're going to capture, Coby? You really think that these pieces of crap are going to help you!" Roared Alvida. Coby quivered at the sight of her. Alvida looked up and saw Luffy and Aya. "My guess is you're not Zoro, the pirate hunter, aren't you?" She asked Luffy.

"Zoro?" Luffy asked, tilting his head, blinking.

"Who's he?" Aya asked.

"Coby! Who is the most beautiful of all the seas!?" Demanded Alvida. Coby flinched and nervously looked around.

Aya leaned and whispered to Luffy "She's kidding, right?" She asked.

"w-w-w-well, um...I, um,"

"Hey, Coby, who's the old hag?" Luffy asked. A dead silence filled the room with Alvida's and Coby's mouth dropped open. Aya was laughing. Alvida grinded her teeth as many veins appeared, pulsing on her face.

"Don't you ever think before you speak?" Asked Aya, still laughing as she tried to catch her breath.

"What?" Luffy asked as he shrugged his shoulders. "She's huge! This lady's a bloated whale!" Aya lost it and keeled over in laughter.

"Luffy, shut up!" Coby shouted.

"YOU LITTLE RAT!!!" Shouted Alvida. She brings her mace down on top of Luffy, narrowly missing him as he dodged it. Luffy grabbed Aya's wrist and Coby's shoulder and jumped out of the cellar and on to the deck. He landed on his feet and smirked at Alvida's crew. Several men charged at them. Aya pushed Coby away as a pirate came at her with a sword. She dodged out of the way as she stepped to the side and the sword sliced in the air between her and Coby, missing them. Coby stared in wide eyes, with his knees shaking. Aya quickly kneed the pirate in the gut and he fell down and she kicked him on the back of his head, knocking him out. Coby scurried away as the pirate fell at his feet. Several pirates charged at Luffy but he managed to evade them. A pirate was sneaking up from behind, but Luffy dodged out of the way.

"How rude. Attacking from behind is cheating," Luffy said. He turned and saw more pirates glaring at him, with large swords. He blinked and started running. "Why is everyone ganging up on me?!" He shouted as the pirates were right behind him, chasing after him. Then Luffy grabbed onto a post and continued running. His arm began to stretch as he did. The pirates stopped, and watched in confusion then saw Luffy coming back towards them as he slingshot himself. They tried to run away but it was already to late. Luffy smirked. "Gum-Gum Rocket!" He shouted as he charged through the men. All of them were knocked out from the blow as they fell to the floor one by one. Alvida and Coby stared in shock and awe. Aya smiled. Luffy smiled and fixed his hat.

"L-Luffy, what are you?" Asked Coby.

Luffy smiled and pulled on the corners of his lips and stretched them. "I'm a rubber man," He said. Coby stared at him with disbelief while Alvida jumped onto the deck, shaking the boat. Coby trembled and he ran behind Luffy and Aya. Alvida glared at the two of them.

"So, you've eaten one of the legendary Devil Fruit, haven't you?" She asked. Luffy smiled and nodded.

"Yeah. It was the Gum-Gum one," He said.

"Ah, I've heard rumors that they existed. But I never seen evidence of them until today. You're very skilled for just a young man. Tell me, are you a bounty hunter or a Marine?" Asked Alvida.

"We're pirates." Said Aya.

"Pirates? By yourselves? How stupid are you?" Taunted Alvida.

"Who are you calling stupid, fatty?" Asked Aya. The veins on Alvida's face looked like they were about to pop as she glared at the girl, angrily.

"It's just us for now. But we're going to start building up a crew. Maybe ten or more guys in a week or two. I don't know yet," Luffy said, shrugging.

"Ha! Tell me, if we're both pirates, and we're not under the same flag," Alvida held up her mace. "That make's us both enemies, correct?" She asked.

"Luffy, Aya,..." Coby whispered. Luffy winked at him. Coby blinked before remembering Luffy's words. "My sister and I decided long ago that we wanted to become King and Queen of the Pirates. If we have to die fighting for that, the we die."

"Well, Coby? What is it you wanted to say?" Alvida asked, smugly. Coby blinked then he glared at Alvida.

"YOU'RE THE BIGGEST AND UGLIEST PIRATE OF ALL THE SEAS!" He shouted. Silence filled the whole ship as Alvida and her crew jaws dropped. Alvida looked even more madder than she did before. Luffy threw his head back laughing, really hard. Aya covered her mouth and snickered.

"What did you say?" Growled Alvida.

"I'm leaving and joining the Marines! And I'm going to lock away dirty pirates like you!" Shouted Coby.

"Do you have any idea what you're saying to me?" Alvida growled.

"I know what I said and I'll do what I want! I'll go to the Marines and I'll join them! And as soon as I do that, I'm gonna catch your fat ass first!" Shouted Coby. Alvida roared in anger and thrusted her mace at Coby. Coby froze in his spot.

"Spoken like a true Marine!" Shouted Luffy as he stood in front of Coby. The mace came down on his head. Alvida gave a shocked look, seeing that Luffy was unharmed. Luffy grinned. "That won't work. I'm made of rubber," He said in a sing-song voice. He threw his fist back and it stretched all the way into the sky. "Gummm-Gummm..." Luffy started as his fist came back. "PISTOL!" Shouted Luffy as his fist connected in Alvida's gut as he punched her, sending her flying. Aya smiled seeing Alvida sail off in the sky, drifting farther away. Coby and the crew stood with a dumbfound look on their faces.

"Hey!" The crew flinched when Luffy turned to them. "Go and find a boat and give it to Coby. He's leaving the ship and joining the Marines. Don't stop him alright?" He asked.

"Y-Yes!" The crew stuttered. Coby blinked before smiling.

"Thanks, Luffy, Aya," He stuttered. Luffy smiled. Suddenly, there were cannon balls being fired at the ship, landing near it. The ship tilted side to side as the rough waves hit against it. Luffy, Aya and Coby looked and saw a Marine ship a few feet away.

"Those are Marine boats." Said Coby.

"Sweet! What luck, huh? Let's say our hellos!" Said Luffy as he ran towards to where a group of boats were.

"Luffy, we'll get arrested on the spot! Think about it first!" Aya scolded.

"Wait up! We'll get captured if they spot us!" Shouted Coby as he followed after her. The three jumped into the boat and the boat went crashing into the water. Aya and Coby nearly fell overboard as it did. Coby clinged to Aya and she tried to get him off of her. As the two fought, Luffy noticed another boat next to theirs and saw the orange hair girl. Their eyes met each other briefly before the girl started paddling away, leaving them.

Luffy, Aya and Coby were now sailing in the middle of the ocean. "I can't believe we managed to escape." Coby said as he looked at the water.

"Yeah, what fun!" Luffy exclaimed as he laughed.

"Hey, you two. If you're searching for the elusive One Piece, that means you're heading for the Grand Line, right?" Coby asked. The two nodded. "You know, a lot of people call that place the Pirate's Graveyard." Coby said grimly.

"Yep. That's why we need a really strong crew. You guys were talking about some pirate hunter, right? What's he like?" asked Luffy.

"Yeah, who is he?" Aya asked.

"Oh, you mean Roronoa Zoro? Last time I heard, he was held prisoner at some Marine base." Coby said. Luffy looked a little disappointed.

"Oh, so a weakling, right?" He asked. Coby stood up and shook his head.

"No way! Roronoa Zoro is as vicious and violent as a demon and three times as horrifying! Wait, why are you asking about him anyway?" Coby asked. Luffy made a grin.

"I guess if he's strong as you say, he could be good enough to join my crew," He said.

"Yeah, he sounds like a bad ass!" Aya said, agreeing. Coby nearly fell out of the boat.

"You're kidding, right? He could kill you two with one strike," He said. Luffy shrugged.

"You never know. He might jump at the chance to join us," Luffy said.

"No way! He's one of the most wanted men ever! He's big and mean and-oww!" Shouted Coby as the two twins hit him on the head again.

"Why'd you hit me?"

"'Cause we felt like it." The two twins said together. Aya smirked. "Ow!" Luffy groaned, as he rubbed his arm as Aya punched him hard.

"Jinx!" She exclaimed.

While Luffy and Coby stared at the ocean, Aya leaned back and reached into pocket and pulled out a necklace with a round gold coin attached to it. She held up into the sky staring at it, twirling with her fingers. The coin had a skull in the center of it. "I wonder what the One Piece is?" She thought as she stared at the coin.

"What's that?" A voice called out to her.

Aya looked to see Coby looking at the coin. She sat up showing it to him. "I don't know. It's something I had ever since I was a baby." Aya said. Coby took it looking over the details of the coin, tracing his finger of the rough and detailed edges. "It's beautiful," Coby said as he stared.

"Yeah, it's great," Aya said sarcastically. "Can I have it back?" She asked holding her hand out.

"I'd give it back if I were you," Luffy laughed. "The last time I tried to look at it and wouldn't give it back. Aya tried to break my arm."

Coby yelped and immediately gave Aya back the coin. She took it and put it back into her pocket. The three of them sailed off heading towards the Marine base.

#One Piece #one piece anime #monkey d. luffy #OC #fanfiction

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journeysintowebcomics · 5 years

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Worm Liveblog #111

UPDATE 111: Set Skitter on Fire

Last time Calvert had done the betrayal. Using the technology he has access to in his new position and thanks to the stuff his new parahuman villain pals made for him, he teleported Skitter into a trap where he’ll now shoot her. Oh this is going to be a tough one to get out of. Let’s see how she’ll do it!

So, the very last line last update was that Calvert shot. She doesn’t even get to move out of the way before the bullet hits her. Is the costume bulletproof? I once heard that the silk, if tensed properly, could resist bullets, but I imagine that’d require some rather specific tuning and positions. Also more than one layer of thread. There’s a chance her costume can be bulletproof, but...

Getting hit, the smallest part of me could only think costume can’t stop a bullet after all. Except it wasn’t even a complete thought. Just a momentary disappointment as I felt the impact of the bullet passing through my chest to my back.

Golly! If I wasn’t aware there are like fifteen arcs more and by now it’s unlikely Skitter will die in the middle of it all to pass the baton to someone else, I’d actually be freaking out. What is it she’s feeling, if not a bullet? The force of the impact? I also have heard bulletproof vests don’t protect you that well, it only protects against the bullet itself. The impact can break your ribs and leave you bruised like you don’t know.

The last thing Skitter needs right now is a few broken ribs, that’s for sure.

Skitter falls, and all of her bugs start flittering around, distracting everyone. Even Calvert is forced to aim away, protecting his face from the bugs, knowing some of them must be covered with capsaicin. Doesn’t seem like Skitter managed to sting anyone, but she’s not hit by any further bullets, so that’s good.

When he spoke, his voice was raised to be heard despite the muffling effect, “Out of the room. Fill it with bullets… no. Scratch that.”

He’s coming up with counter-counter-plans before I even have a strategy in mind.

“…Set her on fire. Her costume is bulletproof, and I want this done. I need to attend to other matters.”

Naturally he’s using counter-counter-counter-counter-counter plans. Maybe he’s even using his power right now, using one plan in this timeline and a different plan in another. It’s possible the ‘fill it with bullets’ plan is for the other timeline. You know, that makes things even worse! It means Skitter has to escape alive in two different timelines, or else she’s screwed because Coil will get rid of the timeline she survives in! As if things weren’t difficult enough, haha

You know, I know it should be kind of common sense, but it kind of blows my mind bugs have senses of smell and taste.

Calvert leaves the place, possibly going to deal with how he’ll explain to the Undersiders Skitter was teleported to who knows where, and two of his soldiers advance to fulfill his orders and burn everything. Skitter finds a crushed bullet on the armor on her chest, showing it was the armor what saved her, not the tensile strength of her costume. Now she has to deal with two men here about to blaze everything with Molotov cocktails. Her immediate idea is to use her pepper spray and try to light one of them on fire.

It wasn’t the brightest move, trying to stop someone from lighting a fuse by setting them on fire, but I wasn’t in a position to be picky.

Look, if it works, then it wasn’t a stupid move. No move that works is stupid, that’s my life philosophy. It has gotten me in so much trouble in the past, but when it works, it works!

Merely setting one on fire seems to have bought her some time, because she got time to tie the other soldier’s hand to the Molotov, making sure he wouldn’t be able to just throw it with no problem at all. Calvert, who apparently stood around in the other room instead of leaving like he said he would – just go already, man, dontcha trust your mercenaries? – takes the Molotov cocktail and doesn’t light it on fire. He tosses it into the room, breaking and spreading the incendiary contents around.

Ah, so that was his idea! He knew Skitter was doing something to stop the bottle to be thrown adequately, so instead he spread gasoline around and used the burning soldier as the lighter. In other words: Skitter pretty much delayed the cocktail from being lit, she didn’t save herself that well. On the other hand, she didn’t get two flaming cocktails shattering all over her, so it must have been for the better.

You know, while I was skimming the next few paragraphs, I realized Skitter must be hearing through her bugs, she has quite some detail about everything that’s happening in the other room, even though there’s a fire here right now and fires aren’t really a silent thing when you’re close to them. Also, I just remembered she’s supposed to be temporarily blind. Absolutely nothing of what’s going on in the story hints she has any sort of eyesight problems. It’s amazing how handicaps and health problems are forgotten in life or death situations when it’s fiction, eh? Not that I can complain, it increases the odds she’ll get out of this...relatively unharmed.

The situation is tough: there’s containment foam over here, cornering her onto one side of the room. Beyond the containment foam there’s fire with accelerant in it, meaning if she steps on it, she’ll get fire on herself and that’s a death sentence. The door is getting barricaded, so it’s pointless to even think about going over the containment foam and the gasoline, and I imagine there are no other ways out. I bet the soldiers will set whatever place this is on fire from the outside, just in case, so...her only hope would be to extinguish that fire, getting enough time to try to undo the barricade on the other side of the door? She’s in trouble, then. Last I checked, she’s not carrying anything for extinguishing fires.

Well, she does have something on her side now: she subconsciously called all bugs in the area to her. That has to be useful for something, she’s been able to use her bugs in creative manners before. I doubt the fire can be gone by using the bugs themselves, but perhaps they can do something about the fire? Somehow?

The situation outside is rough. This is an abandoned neighborhood; the area was prepared so there wouldn’t be eyewitnesses. There’s also a legion of soldiers outside, with spotlights towards the house and all kinds of weapons and containment foam. Escaping the perimeter seems impossible. Hmmmm...did Calvert make everyone drive everything here? Maybe, once Skitter escapes the room, she’ll find something related to teleporting and manages to use it to teleport away.

Oh, there are windows. They’re boarded up, and from what Skitter can feel with her fingers – what a time to remember she’s kind of blind right now, Mr. Wildbow – they even have uncommon screws keeping everything intact. This means they’re boarded on the inside, no? Instead of the outside? That may have been a mistake on Calvert’s part, because the boards are on Skitter’s side. That’s just giving a chance for...something. No idea what, but it’s something.

This would be a perfect time for a second trigger event. Hadn’t Lisa said that my mind-power link was enhanced whenever I felt trapped? I doubted I’d ever feel more trapped than I did right this moment. I couldn’t see just how far the fire reached, because I was blind, and the heat of the fire was killing the bugs I needed for sensing my surroundings. I had only a minute or two before the room became an oven and killed off the rest, leaving me blind and roasting to death.

Heck, maybe her bursts of listening and seeing through her bugs are her second trigger event on the verge of happening. It’d make sense, that her power would intensify so much she’d effectively be able to use her bugs as an extension of her senses. I’ll be surprised if Worm ends without she getting a second trigger event, by the way.

Skitter manages to find black widow spiders in the area and stings Calvert with them. Say, is North America filled with black widows or what? I swear Skitter finds them around all the time. The thought such poisonous spiders must be around you all the time must be terrifying.

Getting bit with these spiders only serve to annoy Calvert, who orders them to burn everything – order I’m sure he’d have given anyway. What Skitter did pretty much hinted Calvert she’s still feeling well enough to fight back. Many Molotov cocktails crash against the house Skitter is trapped in, the fire’s only going to get more intense from now on. Calvert, satisfied, gets into the car.

Calvert glanced over his shoulder, then confidently strode over to a car and took a seat in the back. He didn’t have the driver take him away. No, he’d be more interested in watching, in verifying that things went according to plan.

Didn’t you have other matters to attend somewhere else?! Geez!

I considered waiting for the fire to weaken the floorboards before leaping over the foam and plunging down to the lower level, then dismissed that idea. I wouldn’t last that long, for one thing, and there was too much chance of me being injured.

Thankfully she rejected that idea. The floorboards won’t weaken for no reason; they’ll weaken because there’s fire. This maybe could work if it wasn’t because there’s accelerant. It’s just too much of a risk, getting gasoline on you and being set on fire, no? Still, this means she’s not on a ground floor. Even if she escapes through the window, she’ll need some way to get safely outside – and unnoticed, too. I remember it was mentioned there were lights pointed at this place. Escaping this room is going to be merely the start of a troublesome ordeal.

It’s a tad puzzling Calvert took into account the possibility Skitter was carrying a screwdriver, but didn’t account for the possibility she might have a gun. Personally I’d have thought it was more likely someone would carry a weapon than a hardware tool. I don’t remember if it was ever mentioned she had a distaste for guns or something, but if she did and Calvert found that out, then it’d explain why he didn’t consider she’d have a gun, I guess.

Skitter uses the gun to weaken the boards’ hold onto the windows. Turns out Calvert boarded up both in the inside and the outside, so that solves the problem I had mentioned before! Nice! Skitter, not having expected the strong recoil, drops the gun and therefore wastes some time. Hmmm...say, the soldiers must be far away enough to not hear the gunshots, no?

The gunfire had attracted attention.

Nevermind, they weren’t. I must have overestimated the noise of fire and underestimated the intensity of a gunshot.

This caused the soldiers to use their ammo against the house, a flurry of bullets breaking through the walls and floor. Say, that means the intensity of the bullets must be diminished because of the obstacles, right? She may be safe. One of the bullets does hit her on the back, and that hurts, but she’s not dying from a gunshot. She is running out of time, though. The place is getting worse and worse.

Aha, finally something goes well for her! Skitter had managed to send cockroaches onto the vehicles that are aiming their headlights at the house, turning them off. Is it a preparation for an escape, perhaps?

It was! Skitter gathers as many of the bugs as she got, and uses them to form decoys. One goes through the window, getting shot immediately and slumping over. Then comes another, and another, until Skitter can’t handle anymore the heat inside the room, forcing her to go outside already before she faints. As expected, she’s shot when she’s on the windowsill and she falls down to the ground, in what I hope was an identical move to the rest of the swarm decoys. Hm...I wonder if she’ll have enough strength to make a few decoys more to make them fall from the window, as a distraction.

She does have enough strength to move her decoys like they’re truly getting gunned down and injured, just to stand up again. Given her costume is bulletproof – as far as Calvert and his soldiers know – they can’t afford not to shoot anything that moves, so it really is just matter of time before the real Skitter is shot again. Could she do something with bugs to disable the machine guns? At least to stop the endless barrage?

One of the decoys arrives at the fence surrounding the perimeter, and since Skitter had done a well enough job making it look like it could be her, they keep shooting at it, until someone got the idea of throwing a Molotov cocktail on it, obliterating the decoy. Hm, this settles it, they’ll do the same to any other decoy that gets to that area. If she’ll get to the fence, she’ll have to think of a way to make sure she won’t be set on fire.

If Thomas Calvert was using his power to guide his men, to give them an advantage and give them directions that would help narrow down the decoys, then I’d inevitably face the same fate as the decoy had after I got to the fence.

But he wasn’t giving directions. He was in the truck, watching. No radios were sounding with instructions, not yet. He had to protect his perimeter, keep me from getting to freedom… but he was in a reactive position, not an offensive one where he could command an attack and then make it so it never happened if the attack went awry. No, I’d weathered that initial attack.

He’s not giving instructions...perhaps he did use his power earlier? And he can’t use it again because it’d meant putting himself at disadvantage, in case this timeline is the one where Skitter escapes again? Calvert is not forced to use no more than his considerable cleverness and craftiness! Haaaah...that’s still a big threat.

Are the soldiers starting to deal with the approaching decoys by throwing Molotov cocktails at them? Then it’s only matter of time before one hits Skitter, this can’t be good. To try to stop that from happening, she decides she’ll need a distraction to sow some discord into the enemy lines. Her distraction is to use her swarm to talk to the soldiers’ ears, saying creepy stuff to unnerve them. She’s going to need to do that to everyone here if she wants to distract them enough to run away, I’d say! Good thing there are plenty of bugs here.

Calvert’s voice sounded over a dozen radios in the area, “She’s playing mind tricks. She’s still near the house, and she’s never killed or tortured before.

Oh, I see Calvert isn’t aware Skitter freaking took Lung’s eyes out. I’m pretty certain that has to count under the word ‘torture’! Yeah, I’m not getting over that little incident. Hah! Either way, even if he was aware, I’m sure he wouldn’t tell his troops Skitter may actually do some pretty messed up stuff. Why give validation to Skitter’s creepy threats?

Maintain the perimeter and do not use grenades.”

Again, with the refusal on the subject of grenades. A reminder, even, this time. Was this a point where he’d split the timelines, bombarded the house with grenades in one reality and stuck to the guns in another?

It’s not a bad theory. In which case, in the other timeline Skitter will have to survive grenades in close quarters. Being trapped in one end of the room, with nowhere to go, with a couple grenades thrown at you...how would she pull that off, really? Or had that gone catastrophically bad for him, even if he managed to kill Skitter? Hm, I wonder...

Then there was the possibility that this tied into his alibi, that he didn’t want the Undersiders or even the Travelers to know he’d gone after one of them, and the use of several grenades would be too easily traced back to ‘Coil’. He would stick to an over the top arson, maybe hide the police reports and suppress the media. If I was in a territory owned by the Travelers, maybe they’d accept a price for keeping this quiet from the Undersiders.

...I don’t know...I find it hard to believe that Calvert, with all his power and everything, wouldn’t be able to hide a few grenade blasts inside a house. He could burn the house away and get rid of the remains, and it’d be like there was an arson all along. No, I’m more inclined to think that something went wrong with using grenades against Skitter.

Thinking about all this leads to Skitter remembering how she escaped from the hospital bed after the Endbringer attack. Oh...I don’t remember at all how she escaped. Using her bugs, Skitter checks the soldiers’ equipment, searching for stuff she could use, until she finds the cords and bandoleers for the grenades. Ah, there’s an idea: force the soldiers to use the stuff Calvert told them not to use no matter what!

Using her spiders, she manages to trick a soldier to throw grenades, having loosened the pins. Hmmm...let’s hope none of the grenades falls near the house! Thankfully, thinking ahead, Skitter also put the ring of the grenade string onto the fence, making it swing back and explode there, destroying some of the fence and forcing other soldiers to back off. Nice! Skitter is managing to make some progress here! Calvert must be so annoyed right now.

Some other soldier realizes what Skitter is doing and panics, shouting about how the pins are being pulled. Hah! Great, that’ll be of help! Everybody starts retreating, giving Skitter more leeway to advance. Since the headlights aren’t working, someone starts firing flairs to illuminate the area. Skitter will have to hurry before one of the flares gets too close to where she is.

The psychological pressure she’s mounting is pretty good. She’s appealing to the sense of ‘ew gross’ that’s hardcoded in our psyches, and I’m sure it’s especially effective when it’s talking about gross stuff happening to you. That’s just terribly unnerving. In the meantime, Calvert keeps insisting them to not throw the grenades, but when the other option is to hold grenades and wait for them to explode on you, can you really obey that order?

Skitter had been almost out when she made a little too much noise, alerting one of the soldiers. Hurrying to act, she runs to pull anything she can get her hands on. It’s not a grenade – luckily for Skitter, really – and it’s not a flashbang. Still, what she did get will call so much attention to the area: it’s a smoke grenade. Everybody’s going to look at the sudden burst of smoke, won’t they? Especially if the soldier starts alerting everyone Skitter is there!

Scavenging used silk from previous attacks, my bugs arranged to pull more pins for smoke canisters.

Oh, nevermind. The entire area is going to be covered in smoke at this rate. Skitter is doing a fantastic job against a squadron of trained mercenaries, it’s impressive. Having fun watching the show, Calvert? The soldiers can’t even shoot around due to the risk of hitting an ally through the smoke!

I sensed Calvert’s truck pulling away.

Calvert could use his power to prune away possibilities that didn’t work for him, but only if he was aware of me, aware of my movements and how I was mounting my attack.

His retreat left me wondering if he’d deemed this situation unsalvageable. Had he deemed this a loss?

Sucks to be him! I wonder if, in the timeline grenades were being used, something like this happened. I find it unlikely, but...who knows!

Knowing Calvert is leaving, Skitter wonders what his plan will be now. Shall he look for leverage somewhere else?

My dad. The others.

I suddenly felt the urge to get away, and get away quickly.

If it’s for leverage I think it’s more likely he’ll go for Dad Hebert. Calvert is ruthless like that, I’m sure he’d play dirty and target Dad Hebert.

Escaping now is somewhat easier. The soldiers seem to be unaware she’s so close to the fence, because they’re still focusing on the house, throwing the smoke canisters in that direction so Skitter wouldn’t be able to use them against the troops. Skitter manages to overcome the fences and goes to the trucks, managing to obtain the keys through some subterfuge and getting onto the driver’s seat.

It sure is a tad nightmarish filling the enemy’s mouth with bugs and letting them choke for a while is starting to be one of Skitter’s moves. I wonder how much longer it’ll be before anyone facing Skitter will make sure to have some protection over their mouth and noses? Knowing Mr. Wildbow, it shouldn’t be much longer, haha

All in all, that was a pretty daring escape. I liked pretty much all of it! The only thing that kind of bothers me is that, well...Skitter sure can’t be blind right now. I mean, she’s driving a vehicle. Even in desperate situations as this one, this just wouldn’t end well. Luckily for Skitter, if she still is blind, she has the author’s favor, so she won’t crash three hundred meters away from the burned house due to the sorry state of the roads and what not.

Skitter has no communication right now, so she won’t be able to alert the rest of the Undersiders Calvert is a traitorous snake. She has to think her next move now: which weak point of hers will Calvert strike?

I was struck by an ugly connection between two thoughts. Calvert had mentioned he had other matters to attend to, and if Chariot’s teleportation device mimicked Trickster’s power, they’d had to swap something or somebody in. If he’d replaced me with a body double, he would want to stay in contact with her and help ensure things went her way with the other Undersiders.

That’s a good point, yeah. He’d need someone ready to pretend to be Skitter, right away. If there’s a trained body double with the rest of the Undersiders right now, then they’re in danger. Now that his plan to get rid of Skitter is starting to fall apart, he’s going to have to take action, and since the Undersiders are turning into a liability if they ever hear Calvert’s betrayal, it may be safer to get rid of them altogether, no? It’s not like he needs them anymore. Heck, he may even twist it as the PRT being especially effective, and delay the Travelers’ departure for as long as it’s needed to keep the public story going according to his plans.

On the other hand, if Calvert was looking for a way to get leverage over me, my dad was one very vulnerable target that he was aware of.

Frankly, it’s matter of time before a villain hurts Dad Hebert to make Taylor suffer. I’m not expecting him to survive this story. Maybe Coil will be the one to do it.

It would have to be the Undersiders and Dinah. I hated to admit it, but if my dad was attacked and I had the Undersiders there by my side, they could only help. If the opposite were true, my dad would hamper me.

So, all in all, what I’m getting here is that she’d have to get in contact with the Undersiders one way or another, no? If she can get in touch with Tattletale everything should go okay. I hope so, at least. Last I heard, Tattletale and Regent were going to do stuff for Calvert, so they’re...not in the safest of situations right now, really.

I’d seen how involved Calvert’s maneuver had been at the debate. He had a grand plan, and it wasn’t necessarily the one he’d shared with us earlier. I was now a glitch in his system, threatening to unravel everything he’d put together.

My opinion is that he’s proven to be too inflexible when it’s about Dinah. Does he not have a strong enough structure in his plans for them to continue ahead safely even without Dinah? Is Dinah the big cornerstone, somehow? He really should have prepared things to be able to continue without Dinah and acquiesce to Skitter, if only to have her at bay so she wouldn’t wreck his plans. In exchange, he’d have someone skillful working for him. I don’t doubt sooner or later he’d get tired of listening to Skitter, buuuuut by then he would have a way to squash her, no?

So yeah, I believe the unraveling of his plans is his fault.

No option but jump ahead, face Coil’s plans, and try to succeed without casualties or injuries. But that will be for next time!

Next time: in two updates

#worm #worm liveblog #webserial #liveblog #webserial liveblog

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clareguilty · 5 years

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A Coming Home Present (McAshe)

Commission for @dareperks! A birthday present for a friend of his! McCree/Ashe Word Count: 1980 Rating: Explicit | Warnings: Public Sex, Slight Coercion, Rough Sex

The sun beat down hot on Deadlock gorge as Jesse rolled through the open doors to Deadlock’s base of operations. He expected at least a little opposition. Someone should stop him or recognize him or even shoot him on sight.

But the low-level gang members milling about the front of the saloon and the garage didn’t even look up as his motorcycle slowed to a stop about a hundred feet from the Propane store front. It was as good of a welcome home as he could have expected from the no-good lowlifes Deadlock kept around. He would have to make some real changes to how things were run now that he was back.

The gorge looked the same as it always had, faded paint and rundown buildings that hadn’t seen honest business in decades. It felt like home to Jesse.

He killed the engine on his bike and strode purposefully to the middle of the street. Now he had the attention of the gang. Several of the men began whispering urgently to each other as they finally recognized who had waltzed right into their gorge.

Just as he hoped, one of the men scrambled towards the tunnels, off to the deliver the message of the Deadeye’s return.

Jesse held his ground, thumbs hooked in his belt and an easy smile resting on his tanned skin. This was easier than he expected.

“ASHE,” he bellowed, scaring several of the wide-eyed gang members who were frozen in various places around the gorge. Goggles and beady eyes peered from the windows and catwalks, curious and terrified as Jesse waited confidently in the road. “Won’t you come and greet your guest?”

A distinct, familiar snarl echoed from the stone tunnels in the canyon wall. Jesse’s mouth curled up.

Ashe stalked into view. She was dressed down; Jesse had interrupted her few hours of relaxation. Without her hat, vest, and armor, Ashe still managed to look very angry and very threatening. Her shirt was unbuttoned at the top, tie hanging loosely around her neck, and Jesse marveled at her pale skin in comparison to the usual dark tan that desert dwellers acquired. She gripped Viper in her perfectly manicured black nails, glaring at Jesse with that same venom he had always admired since they were teens.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jesse?” Ashe demanded. The familiar looming form of Bob shadowed behind her, looking decidedly unthreatening as he waved and cocked his head. Bob was always a good friend.

“I’m taking my gang back, Lizzie,” Jesse drawled. “I thought that was pretty clear.”

“Over my dead body,” Ashe spat, cocking viper.

“I sure hope it doesn’t come to that,” Jesse said. He reached into his pocket and fished out a cigar and lighter. No one moved as he flicked the lighter and puffed until the cigar was lit. He took a long drag and raised an eyebrow at Ashe as he exhaled, shifting his weight.

The sun had risen directly overhead. Ashe glared at McCree, her perfectly painted lips twisted into a deep scowl. Jesse took another puff from his cigar. If Ashe wanted a shootout, Jesse would give her a shootout, but a part of him figured he could resolve this without firing a single shot from Peacekeeper.

Nearly a minute had passed, and Ashe had yet to make a move. She hadn’t even pointed Viper in his direction. This was going to be much easier than expected.

Tossing his cigar to the side, Jesse walked towards Ashe. He had one hand on Peacekeeper - just in case she suddenly got trigger happy, but it mattered none. She stayed rooted to the spot.

Jesse strolled right up to Ashe, stepping into her personal space and grabbing her by the crimson tie that hung from her neck. Ashe let out a choked whine as Jesse pulled her in close, forcing her to meet his eye.

“How have you been, Lizzie?” Jesse asked.

Ashe’s eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated so much that the bright red of her irises was barely noticeable. She clawed uselessly at Jesse’s hand, trying desperately to pry his fingers from the silk. He didn’t move.

“I missed you,” she finally said, looking away as her face flushed bright red with shame. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth.

“Then prove it,” Jesse let go of her tie and Ashe stumbled as she tried to keep her balance. Her eyes snapped to Jesse’s as she tried to understand the meaning of his words. Her brows shot up as she finally realized what he was demanding of her. She shook her head, just barely. She couldn’t do that – not while the whole gang was watching.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. He wouldn’t ask again, and he wouldn’t wait long. He adjusted his stance, widening his feet just enough to emphasize that he wasn’t messing around.

Ashe sank to her knees, eyes shining with tears and cheeks so red they looked like they burned. Jesse was appeased by her compliance, and he rested his hands on his hips as Ashe shuffled to place herself between his boots.

Her nimble fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, the bold letters mocking her as she pulled the leather from its loops and unfastened his pants.

Jesse’s cock slipped from the waistband of his boxers, half hard but already impressive in size. Ashe stroked him gently with one hand; she still felt the same as she had years ago, and Jesse smiled at the familiar rhythm of her wrist. She looked up, fear and shame and embarrassment warring with unabashed lust as she pleaded with Jesse. She was asking for everything at once, release from this shame, from the humiliation of sucking her rival off in front of her entire gang, but she was also asking for permission, permission to wrap her lips around the fat head of Jesse’s cock and please him just as she had done when they were young bandits with nothing to lose.

The feeling of a dozen set of eyes burned into Jesse’s back, and he could only imagine how humiliating this was for Ashe, reduced to nothing but a cock whore in front of all of her own men. The thought made his dick twitch, and Ashe’s eyes snapped to the motion.

She couldn’t resist any longer. Her lips closed around the shaft of his dick, stretched wide around his girth. Her tongue swirled around the tip, and Jesse let out a soft groan as she demonstrated that time had not lessened her skills.

He was fully hard now, and Ashe was stroking his base as she slowly worked her lips down his shaft. Jesse let Ashe have her fun for a bit, watching her sink down inch by inch. But impatience soon got the best of him, and he wound his fingers in her thin, silver hair and began moving her head up and down as she tried her best to keep up with his quick pace. Drool and precum began running down her chin as he began thrusting deep into her mouth. Rather than protest and try and pull away, Ashe let out a long, low moan that only spurred Jesse on.

One of the gang members gave an enthusiastic whistle as Ashe’s eyes rolled back and she moaned and gagged on Jesse’s thick cock. If she heard the noise, she didn’t react. She was too far gone as Jesse fucked her face with ruthless intent.

Drool had dripped off her chin and left transparent spots on her white button down. Jesse marveled at the sight, briefly wondering if he could soak the fabric enough to cling to her perky little tits. The thought nearly made him come, and he dragged Ashe off his cock to keep from spilling too soon. There was still fun to be had with Miss Calamity.

Jesse hauled Ashe to her feet by her tie once more, tearing her shirt open with his metal hand and grinning wildly as her alabaster tits bounced in the high noon sun. Ashe made a slight noise of protest, still clinging to that last bit of shame.

Jesse dragged her by the tie to the front of the propane shop. A familiar red bike was parked on the curb, and the Deadeye threw Ashe over the seat, bending her over her own bike as he groped her ass.

“Damn, I’ve missed this tight ass,” Jesse said as his hands wandered over the firm flesh. He yanked her pants down to her knees and landed a swift slap to the soft skin he exposed.

Ashe yelped in surprise, still glassy-eyed from being face fucked. Jesse’s thick, rough fingers slipped between her legs, feeling just how wet the fearless leader of the Deadlock gang had gotten from being taken in full view of the entire gang. She was dripping, slick running down his fingers and over her thighs.

“You’re a good little whore, aren’t you?” Jesse asked. “Always so wet for the Deadeye’s thick cock.”

Ashe moaned and twisted her hips against the leather seat of the bike. “Everyone knows your place now, don’t they? You’re nothing but a little cock slut. Tell them,” Jesse ordered.

There was no response from the bitch bent over before him, so Jesse brought his hand down on her ass once more. “Tell them.”

“I’m a cock slut,” Ashe whimpered. “I’m your good little whore.”

“That sounds about right to me,” Jesse said, lining his cock up with Ashe’s slick pussy and sinking himself to the hilt. She howled and writhed on the bike, trying to get used to being stretched so tight all at once.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Jesse groaned as he began fucking Ashe relentlessly. “You probably haven’t been fucked since I left this damn gorge years ago.” A chuckle from one of the men nearby led Jesse to believe that his words were true.

He grabbed Ashe by her waist and slammed into her, not caring for whether she came or not. From the sounds of her helpless moans, she was clearly enjoying the feeling of Jesse’s dick inside her. Some things never changed.

Jesse used Ashe as nothing but a cocksleeve. He dragged her hips to his over and over, growing rougher and rougher as he came close to the edge once more. Ashe seemed to be getting close too, clenching tight around Jesse and shaking and crying as he fucked her faster and harder.

His orgasm came before hers. Too bad. He thought as he pulled out and spilled over her ass, marking her with his come. Ashe cried out in frustration, beating the side of her bike with her fist as tears streamed down her face. God, she looked wrecked. Eye makeup trailing down her cheeks and lipstick smeared six ways from Sunday. Jesse walked around to the other side of the bike and held his softening dick in front of her face. His smile was smug and expectant.

Ashe glared up at him, venomous as always even after she just had the life fucked out of her. Jesse met her gaze; this was a game they had played before. Jesse always won.

Sure enough, Ashe caved first, leaning forward to clean Jesse’s dick with her tongue. Once he was satisfied with her performance, he tucked himself back into his pants and re-buckled his belt.

Without a second glance, Jesse turned on his heel and strode right into the saloon, yelling for someone to get him a whiskey. Ashe stayed draped over the seat of her own bike, wrecked and sore, frustrated and marked with Jesse’s come.

A few lingering gang members watched her with hungry eyes, leering at the new sideshow attraction of the Deadlock gang. Ashe snarled at anyone who came to close, struggling to pull herself to her feet.

“Bob,” she called weakly, “do something.”

#lemons #mcashe #jesse mccree/ashe #mccree/ashe #ashe #ashe overwatch #elizabeth caledonia ashe #jesse mccree #mccree #deadlock #Overwatch #overwatch fanfic #smut #ow fanfic

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ironemrys · 5 years

Text

The Mission

Pairing: Tom Holland x OC

Word Count: 5.1k (I’m sorry it’s long again)

Tags: #OC x Tom Holland, #Secret Agent AU, #loosely based on Taken, #tom holland fanfiction, #there’s also characters from different fandoms, #and other artists that I used as characters, #you’ll know them when you read ‘em, #Tom Holland, #Alternate Universe, #again

A/N: Hello. I’m back with a secret agent AU. not like my other work is finished but meh... I like this one so hi. Oh and I used canva for the poster thing.

Warning: There’s a lot of cursing. Possible lemon. Violence and drug use. This is just a story so please treat it as such.

Summary: Tom Holland is careful in everything that he does. He's patient and organized and in order for him to be the best at his job he always follows the rules, always thinks of a plan and always prepares a backup plan.

Tom works for a secret government agency known as SHIELD, he usually works alone but is not one to shy away from any assistance offered by whosoever is willing.

When a Class S mission arises, he is suddenly forced to work with another agent named Catherine Silverton who is his exact opposite. Catherine is a reckless hot head who uses most of her gut feeling when dealing with unimaginable situations. She's not one to plan, she doesn’t like waiting around and she hates working long term with other people.

With the lives of many at stake, will they be able to put aside their differences and learn to work together?

Chapters: 2 | 3

In an old storage house near a loading dock, a group of armed men were busy hauling crates onto a ship that is set to leave after midnight.

"How much longer?" A tall, balding man asked as he walked towards the ship. He wore a thick long sleeve covered by a bulletproof vest. His boots and pants were dirty with mud, sand and blood. His one good eye looked towards the ship and then at the men who continued on their work.

"We're almost done boss. After this batch, we'll be ready to move the weapons to Siberia." A young man answered. He wore a plain shirt and black cargo pants, his gloved hand held a black mask and in the other he held a gun.

"Excellent. These weapons will secure our position in the black market. Make sure everything is in place." The tall man said and walked away to the storage house. Inside, there were a more of the armed men, storing the different kinds of weapons carefully in crates and then covering them up with straw.

"Boss. Mr. Stone, sir." Once the name was spoken, all of them stopped what they were doing and gave a salute to the man in charge.

“At ease.” Stone replied and the men continued on their work. Once he and his men were done here, they would move to Siberia and sell to the highest bidder the weapons of war they acquired by infiltrating different military bases around the continent.

"Storage this is the perimeter, we found an unconscious body near the west entrance of the loading dock.” One of the men’s radios suddenly started.

“Perimeter, investigate the matter quickly and dispose of whoever is responsible.” Stone said after grabbing a radio off of one of his men.

“Copy that.”

Stone walked over to a table full of unpacked weapons and he grabbed one in his hand.

“Stay sharp. Kill on sight.” He ordered and the men nodded before taking their own guns. Suddenly, gunshot after gunshot was heard right outside the storage house. The men inside formed a barrier to protect their boss and their trade. They all pointed their guns at the closed entrance, waiting for whoever was behind the commotion.

"What the hell is going on out there?" One asked when something suddenly struck his neck and he fell forward unconscious.

“Hey! Jason!” His ally nudged him with a foot and but there was no response. The armed men looked around the place and pointed their guns here and there.

“It’s become quiet outside.” One then said and looked to two of his peers. They nodded at each other and slowly walked towards the entrance. The first of them opened the door and pointed his gun but he felt something hit him in the forehead and he fell unconscious just like the other one.

“Shit!” The other two jumped away from the door and on cue two small grenades came rolling in and filled the place with smoke.

“What the fuck!” The remaining men cried out and covered their eyes while coughing violently because of the smoke.

Suddenly, a shadow moved in quickly between the smoke and the armed men, knocking them out and taking away their guns. After a few blind punches and curses, Stone was the only one left standing in the middle.

"Bastard! SHOW YOURSELF!" Stone yelled in the air, his gun pointing in a meaningless direction.

"Baron Stone." A voice perked up and Stone saw a dark shadow standing in the smoke. He aimed his gun and fired all the bullets towards the unknown presence. The fog died down but there was no body found on the ground where he shot at.

"You are under arrest for the larceny of military owned weapons, murder, aggravated assault, arms trafficking and shall I go on?" The voice asked but the person speaking still cannot be seen.

"Show yourself!" Stone demanded again and looked around the storage house when someone grabbed his gun and quickly disarmed him. Stone tried to aim for a punch but it was skillfully blocked and a strong blow came in contact with his chest and he dropped to his knees before losing consciousness.

"Capture: Complete." The young man pressed on his earpiece and sirens of police cars were heard closing in on the location. A team of armed men all wearing special police uniforms came walking in to take the suspects in custody.

"Great work Tom. You’ve done it again. I thought with this many men under Stone's you'd have trouble in dealing with them." A tall man with brown hair wearing a police vest over his red and black long sleeve snickered. He held a sniper gun to his side and he reached his other hand towards the agent for a handshake.

“I couldn’t have done it without your help Harrison.” Tom nodded.

“Nah. I’m pretty sure you could’ve done better on your own.” Harrison laughed and gave Tom a pat on the back.

"Maybe. But like I always say: Two heads are better than one." Tom replied with a smile.

"Right. Anyway, we’ll finish up here, you get back to base. I heard there’s another mission waiting for you." Harrison answered and Tom gave him a nod before walking outside to his car and driving back to SHIELD.

Tom Holland is careful in everything that he does. He's patient and organized and in order for him to be the best at his job he always follows the rules, always thinks of a plan and always prepares a backup plan.

At the age of twenty-four, Tom has accomplished missions more than those older than him. The thing about him is that he has dozens of plans up his sleeve. Whenever there is a situation that is hard to handle, he quickly thinks of a way in detail before putting it to action. He's young but he’s very professional. Tom started working for SHIELD right after he graduated from the police academy and he’s been there for six years. He started first with a partner; Agent Harrison, but now that he’s good enough to go on his own, he does. But Tom isn’t one to shy away from any assistance offered by whosoever is willing so whenever Harrison doesn’t have a mission of his own, he and Tom usually do cases together.

"Oh hey Tom. I see you're back from the Stone Mission, good work." Ethan Hunt; the commanding officer in charge of SHIELD’s England Base, looks up from his desk as Tom walks in his office.

"Yeah Mr. Hunt, it was quickly dealt with thanks to Harrison’s help.” Tom replies and looks around Ethan’s office. It was full of papers and unfinished cups of coffee. “Harrison says you have another mission for me?" He then asks after a moment of silence.

“I do. But rest first for a while and I'll see you back in the meeting room after six." Ethan replied and got back to his paperwork.

Tom made his way to the agency's shower room and decided to freshen up. As usual, it was empty and quiet since no one uses the shower room at three in the morning. But it was normal now for Tom to have such late missions and he didn’t mind. Crime never sleeps and it was part of his job to adjust.

After cleaning up, Tom walked out wearing a set of casual clothes; a black hoodie and jeans. He fixed his now blow dried hair and walked to the agency's gadget room which was found at the lower levels of the building.

"Hey Holland! Welcome back!" The short and blonde gadget expert named Benji, greeted Tom once he stepped foot inside.

"What's up?" Tom asked while walking over to Benji's work table.

"I'm making a new item. Jacob over there is helping me." Benji replied and nudged his head to where a young man about Tom’s age was shooting arrows from a crossbow across a firing range.

"A crossbow?" Tom asked and raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

"Yep. But I'm making it to be automatic, so you won't have to add bows for every fifty shots. And then you refill it with this, so it’s kinda like a gun. It’s supposed to be lighter than a gun and with a few more modifications I can induce sleeping serums inside the bows." Benji replied as he showed what looked like a bullet magazine, except it was filled with tiny bows.

"I see. How's it going so far?" Tom asked again while examining the weapon.

"Pretty good. It's almost done." Jacob answered as he walked away from the firing range. He and Tom gave each other a high five followed by a very elaborate handshake.

“You kids are weird.” Benji said while tinkering with the crossbow.

“We’re literally twenty-four.” Jacob responded to the remark while rolling his eyes.

“Like I said, kids.” Benji snickered earning a laugh from Tom. It was true though, Harrison, him and Jacob were the youngest agents in the England Base and the three of them started at the same time in SHIELD after graduating together from the academy.

"Hey, you know what I heard?" Jacob suddenly said so Tom and Benji turned to him.

"I heard that this next mission of yours is pretty big."He added and Tom raised a brow.

“How do you mean?” He asked.

"Yeah. All of Tom's missions are big. I mean, there’s nothing new about that." Benji retorted but Jacob shook his head.

"I know that but I heard Ethan talking to Colin, you know? The head of the New York Base? So I'm guessing you'll be leaving England for a while again." Jacob said and this got Tom more interested in his next mission since he's been in and out of England lots of times and he enjoyed going on missions in places he's not really familiar with.

"Well, whatever it is, I'll deal with it like how I always do." Tom replied and the other two nodded in response.

"So this mission, where am I going exactly?" It was eight o’clock in the morning and Ethan had just finished debriefing Tom on his new mission.

"You'll be going to Las Vegas to meet the agent sent by Colin. You two will work together as a team and finish this mission with extreme vigilance. Colin will add more to what I have laid for you, he has the complete story on this mission.” Ethan answered and Tom nodded.

“This agent, do you have a file on him? I’d like to know someone before I work with them.” Tom said and Ethan handed him a folder.

“This is Agent Silverton. She’s about your age and she’s been in the agency for four years. Also an academy graduate.” Ethan started and Tom opened the folder to view the file.

"Your plane leaves in sixteen hours so I suggest you get ready and get some rest." Harrison said since he too was inside the meeting room.

Tom gave them a nod and left to set his affairs in order. Once he was sure he didn’t forget anything, he started to read the file on Agent Silverton until he fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in an underground cellar, a deal was being made between two parties.

"It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Jones." A large dark haired man surrounded by equally large men with firearms shook hands with a sharply dressed lanky fellow.

“Likewise Mr. Brown.” Jones replied before exchanging a duffle bag for a sealed briefcase. The duffle bag contained illegal drugs and the two parties are well known dealers but are also skilled assassins that are hunted by the local police.

Suddenly, gunshots and shouts were heard from outside their trading room. Brown’s men held on their guns and ran out to see the commotion.

"The fuck is going on out there?!" Jones asked and took out his own gun.

"SHIELD followed us in! All men at the gate are down!" Someone from the outside ran towards them.

“How many agents?" Brown asked through gritted teeth. They were so careful not be caught but it seems that SHIELD has picked up their trail.

Before the man could answer, the sound of a gun going off echoed in the cellar and the man was shot down.

"Well, well... Jones and Brown. Finally." A voice spoke and the leaders looked up to see a single agent standing on the doorway. Brown aimed his gun and quickly shot fire but missed the agent who hid behind a pillar.

"LET'S GO!!" He shouted at Jones and they ran to the back door. They scrambled outside the building and got in a parked van. The agent then came out of the building but Jones shot fire and the agent ducked down to avoid the bullet. Screams from people within the area scattered as they ran for cover.

"DRIVE!" Jones ordered and they sped off.

"Well fuck. This is just great." The agent sighed and ran to the street before seeing a man in a motorcycle.

"Hey!" The man stopped abruptly before the figure standing on the street to block his way.

"Yeah, hi, I need to borrow your motor for a while." The agent said before flashing a badge. The man quickly got out and was about to hand over his helmet but the agent had already driven off.

"Catherine. Where are you? We're at the site. It’s a fucking mess back here, the fuck did you do?" A voice perked up from the agent's earpiece.

"I’m in pursuit. And shut up Bradley they shot at me first.” Catherine replied before taking a sharp left. “Oh and, you might wanna buy a new motorcycle for this guy. I’m pretty sure you can still find him right outside the building." she added with a grin that was followed by an exasperated grunt.

"God damn it woman! That's the fourth bike you took this month!" Bradley yelled.

"What? Not my fault those guys made a run for it..." Catherine answered so the latter just sighed.

"Just make sure you don’t do too much damage this time like what you did in the tower. That was hard to cover up." Bradley reminded and Catherine chuckled.

"Yeah, sure thing." She replied before speeding up upon seeing the van where Jones and Brown were.

"Gotcha." She whispered and turned to the right for a shortcut in order to cut them off.

She passed by a small street and noticed a bunch of street vendors and their stalls set up with onlookers shopping here and there but since she can't stop, she knew what she had to do in order to pass.

“Outta the way people! Good guy chasing a villain here!” She yelled and honked the motor horn. The people around shouted in panic as she passed with her speeding motor, they jumped and scrambled away from the small street, causing them to tumble over the kiosks.

"SORRY!!" She yelled but kept on going.

"Colin’s gonna kill me." She mumbled before taking a left turn and saw the van right in front of her. The cars honked but she didn’t mind and followed the van behind, she sped up a little and once she was closer to the van, she reached for the door and slid it open before jumping inside.

"WHAT THE!?" Jones yelled and turned around only to be kicked in the face and knocked out.

"Shit!" Brown shouted and pointed his gun at Catherine who wrestled with him for the wheel.

“Hey come on man! You wanna add reckless driving to your list of crimes?” She quipped and disarmed him before punching him in the face. Brown was out cold and Catherine tried to catch the steering wheel and maneuver the truck but the briefcase that fell with all the commotion pushed down the gas pedal and the truck came crashing to a fountain in the middle of the street.

Catherine was able to save herself with the airbag and she stumbled out of the van with just a few scratches. She then saw the people running away from the chaos and destruction while others were too scared to move from their spots. Police sirens suddenly filled the place and a team of agents and officers stepped out of their vehicles.

"Damn it Catherine, I thought I said don’t make such a mess! Colin will kill you." Bradley; a tall man with short blond hair wearing a bulletproof vest over his red polo shirt approached her and hit her on the head.

"Ow! Fuck you Bradley, I barely got out of that speeding van and you greet me with a hit on the head?! I swear I'll shoot you, you ass." Catherine glared.

"Oh shut up. Me and the others need to clean up every damage you did – again.” Bradley replied sourly.

"Both suspects are unconscious; we'll be taking them in." An officer then interrupted their banter and drove off while the others stayed and took photos of the damage that needed to be repaired.

"Come on slick. I wanna see your face once Colin finds out about all this." Bradley teased before ducking away to avoid a strong kick.

"Fifteen street stalls, one civilian motorcycle, one giant fountain and one six storey building." A tall man with short black hair glared at the pictures and then at the agent in front of him.

"Sorry..." Catherine whispered.

"I understand the stalls and the motor but the fountain and the building? Really?" Colin; Catherine and Bradley's boss, the head of SHIELD in New York said with a raised brow.

"Well, the building was old. And because of the shootout earlier, the collapse was unavoidable." Catherine replied while air quoting her last remark.

"Your improvisations always make the cleaners' works harder." Bradley sighed.

"Oh shut up. You're a cleaner for a reason." Catherine shot back.

"Knock it off. Catherine get some rest, but I need you in the main room after dinner. We need to discuss something." Colin said and Catherine nodded before leaving the room with Bradley.

Catherine Silverton is a reckless hot head who uses most of her gut feeling when dealing with unimaginable situations. She's not one to plan, she doesn’t like waiting around and she hates working long term with other people. But despite all this, she’s the best at what she does and no one has ever said otherwise.

For a twenty-three year old, she has accomplished missions that are harder than those given to her seniors. The thing about Catherine is that she comes up with plans on the fly and she loves to improvise. Whenever there are missions that trap her in a pinch, she sees the easiest way out and acts on it, what happens right after her actions will then determine her next move.

That is why most of the time, her missions always lead to a shootout or a car chase, but despite those do or die situations, Catherine always manages to get away and capture the bad guys.

She may not be much of a professional since she has no plans except for one and no backup plan right after, she still manages to finish a mission completely. Catherine's been working in SHIELD for four years and her plans aren't always full proof, but whatever tough situation she gets herself into, she can get out without thinking that much and just improvising her way through.

"Vegas?" Catherine asked once Colin debriefed her on her new mission.

"Yes. You will meet another agent and you will work together to accomplish this mission." Colin said and Catherine shook her head and stood up from her eat.

“No. No way. I do this mission alone, Colin.” She insisted but Colin gave her a look.

“This is a Class S mission, Catherine, we need to keep this on the down low since there would be panic and chaos if this situation ever gets out.” He replied and Catherine slammed her hands on the table.

“Then find someone else to do it. I’m not partnering with anyone, never again.” She grumbled and Colin sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Catherine, there is no one else. Everyone has their own missions and I need you on this.” He said and Catherine was silent. She then took a breath and snatched the documents from Colin’s hands.

“Fine. But this other agent better not piss me off or I’m gonna shoot him where he stands.”

SHIELD; Las Vegas Base. 7 PM.

"Welcome. You must be Tom." Colin greeted as the agent walked in.

"Yes, pleasure to meet you Mr. Morgan." Tom replied and offered his hand to shake.

"Please, just Colin will be fine. I trust your flight was pleasant?” He asked and Tom nodded before taking a seat at a round glass table.

“Yes. I read the files on my way over here but Mr. Hunt said there was more that I needed to hear.” Tom replied and Colin gave him a quick nod.

“Yes. There’s a lot more about this mission that I’ll discuss once Catherine gets here.” He said.

“Agent Silverton.” Tom added when on cue, the automatic sliding doors opened and in walked Catherine who was followed by Bradley.

“Agent Holland, this is Agent Silverton.” Colin introduced and Tom stood up before offering his hand but Catherine gave him a look and just nodded and took a seat that was well away from him. Tom wondered why he was turned down so quickly but dismissed it and sat back down, he saw Colin sigh before turning towards the big screen inside the room.

“As you both know, we have called you here since you are the best agents in your respective agencies and we need your help in accomplishing this task." Colin started.

The screen flashed pictures of girls, about thirty of them and then followed by pictures of a man getting in a black van.

"We have received word that girls from different countries are missing. Parents are worried that when contacting their children, they get nothing from the hotels they are supposed to be staying in. We believe the girls have been abducted, for what purpose, we don’t know. That is until one of our agents who was previously on the job managed to pinpoint a location. He found out the girls were being sold for prostitution." He continued and the images changed to what looked like a tall building where the girls are in a line, surrounded by men with guns.

"Unfortunately, right after he had sent us the information. Our agent went MIA. We think he's been captured or he's been killed. We need to finish this monstrosity before it gets bigger and the situation, worse." Colin finished and the big screen turned off.

"So these girls… where were they last seen?" Tom asked.

"At the airport according to our agent. Specifically, the airport here. Our agent also managed to narrow down a bar where he believes the girls are taken." Colin answered. He then handed them both a picture of the bar.

"This guy in the van was the same guy our agent saw inside the building." He pointed out to another photograph.

"So, let me guess, we need to infiltrate the bar and see where the girls are and rescue them." Catherine said and Colin nodded.

“That seems simple enough. Why can’t you just send the cavalry on this guy?” Catherine asked and pointed at the man in the van.

“It’s not that simple. If they have the girls, who knows what they’ll do to them once they found out they’ve been compromised?” Colin replied.

“They could kill them, or hold them hostage, making it harder for us to rescue them.” Tom added and Colin nodded in response.

“I need you guys to be careful, find out where the girls are and call for back up once you’ve secured their location. But we need to this mission discreetly, we don’t want the public to panic.” Colin added and turned to Catherine.

“The hell are you looking at me for?” She snapped.

“There’s a reason.” Bradley grinned so Catherine punched him in the arm.

"Whatever. Let's get going, Mr. Holland, bars open at around this time right?" She said before standing up.

“Just Tom would be fine.” Tom said softly and stood up as well. "But we need to think of a plan first, like how do we get in without getting too much attention? How do we get the girls out? What if they're too many of them? There's only two of us. We should have a backup plan in case - ”

"We're gonna waste time if we plan now. How about we go to the bar, then you can plan while we watch the premises. It's a bar and casino, we can go in and out whenever we want to, this is Vegas." Catherine replied as-a-matter-of-factly and Tom just looked at her.

"Well? Are we going or not?” She asked getting impatient.

“Right. Yes." Tom replied still bewildered at how Catherine shot him down twice now.

"The car is downstairs. You can take it." Colin said and tossed the keys to Catherine.

“Gotcha. We’ll make contact when we’re there. Come on Mr. Planner.” Catherine grinned and left the room. Tom was glued to where he was but he shook his head and put his agent mode on before following the latter.

"It's been ten minutes since we started driving and you still haven't said anything." Tom then said as he and Catherine drove quickly towards the casino they're supposed to infiltrate.

"Should I be saying anything?" Catherine asked.

"Well no but you and I are gonna be stuck for quite a while with this mission so might as well get to know each other." Tom replied and Catherine turned the car to stop on the side of the street.

“Okay listen here, Tom.” She started with a glare and Tom actually felt a little intimidated.

“You and I are gonna get along just fine if you stop asking questions and just do your job as an agent. I don’t like working with other people but I have to grin and bear it because Colin asked me too. If you have a problem with that, take that up to him because I don’t have time to get to know you and I don’t want to either. Got it?” She said and when Tom was rendered speechless, she continued on to drive.

"We're here." Catherine said before stopping on the side of the road right across the casino.

“Anyone familiar?” Tom asked as they both looked at the people coming and going in the vicinity.

“No. I’m going in.” Catherine said and proceeded to take her seatbelt off but Tom stopped her.

"No, wait. Not until we see the guy they tracked down to this place. It'll be easier to follow him from then on." Tom replied and she was about to retaliate when she remembered what Colin said to her before leaving so she stayed put much to Tom’s surprise.

Thirty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of the guy the base has tracked down.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom finally said after moments of silence.

“What now?” Catherine asked.

“I’ve read before that people usually shut themselves out because of an experience they were traumatized with before, they refuse to let others in their lives and establish a relationship in fear that they will end up hurt by the same thing that has happened to them before.” Tom started.

“And your point is?” She replied and turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

“Uhm… I guess what I’m trying to say is we’re both working for the same cause here and you and I have to learn to trust each other if we’re going to make it work.” He replied which made Catherine chuckle.

“Trust? The only people that I trust are Colin and Bradley. You better be a damn saint before I even begin to trust you. But fine, since your annoying little self is persistent I’ll give you a chance.” She smirked and Tom smiled.

Just then, a black van stopped right in front of the casino and out came a man in a black leather jacket, jeans and combat boots.

"That’s him!" Catherine said before looking down at her phone to see the photo once again.

Tom and Catherine watched as the man opened the van, only to have girls in lingerie and masks pile out.

“Do you think those are the girls?" Tom asked and Catherine shrugged.

“Really can’t tell with those masks their wearing.” She replied.

The man led the girls inside casino and Catherine knew she had to follow them quickly. She looked around and saw a stall that was selling masks, hats, shoes and different articles of clothing so she grinned and got out of the car much to Tom's surprise.

"Hey where are you going!?" Tom asked but Catherine was already at the stall. She bought a pair of heels and a black and white mask with feathers and glitters all over. She got back in the car and started to strip off her pants.

"WHAT… WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Tom turned bright red and proceeded to look away.

"Oh please, don’t flatter yourself." Catherine scoffed as she took off her pants and threw them at the back. She undid the first two buttons on her polo and removed her jacket before putting the mask and shoes on.

"Put this in your ear and I'll guide you once I get inside." Catherine said, shoved a small earpiece in Tom’s hand and opened the car door.

"Wait. WHAT?! GET BACK HERE!" Tom yelled after her but it was too late, Catherine already made her way to the line of girls and casually made her way inside.

"Fuck." Tom cursed as he helplessly watched the entrance of the casino close.

tagging: @silverofthunder I did it again... I wrote... Hahaha

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michellelarina · 3 years

Text

Supermarket Tribal

In a land of pissed-off shoppers, is peace even possible?

9.05am

My regular supermarket has changed things around again.

I hate that.

It seems a somewhat tone deaf thing to do in the middle of a pandemic, and as I hurry along what used to be the condiment section, clutching my basket, I see my own emotions echoed in the eyes of the masked shoppers around me; confused, angry, frustrated.

We don’t have time for this.

Cowboys and Kisses is playing as I find washing powder where the activated almonds used to be. I hear myself sigh in that irritated, overloud way I’ve always contributed to crotchety old ladies. Further up the aisle, where the fabric softeners are, an elderly gentleman in a biscuit-brown cardigan pulls out a bottle of Sunny Glow Softener, and his face creases around his mask.

‘This is shit,’ he says.

The words are soft; inner frustration spilling out of his lips. But then he says it louder, almost shouting, and as he does he throws the bottle down the aisle.

‘This is shit!’

I find myself watching, fascinated, as the bottle skids across the blindingly white floor. From somewhere in the next aisle I hear a wail.

‘Where the fudge are the biscuits!’

There’s a few giggles. I think it’s because of the word fudge. My feet quicken as I set off once again. I just want to pay for my groceries and leave.

The next aisle is where I normally get tomato paste. Instead I find greeting cards, and feel my mind slipping.

9.15am

I can’t find anything! I’m only halfway though my shopping list. I want to leave but somewhere between frozen foods and garden supplies I feel myself pulled into a circle of spectators who are watching a tiny old lady berate a store manager. Her finger is pointing at him severely.

‘I think its very bad timing, young man, to do this while we’re all trying to get our shopping done as quickly as we can these days . . .’

Nod. Murmurs of agreement. I hear my voice join the others. The manager is sweating slightly under the bright lights.

‘I’m sorry you feel that way, and I’m happy to help you find the paper serviettes . . .’

‘That’s not the point!’ says a woman who’s joggling a plump baby on her hip. ‘I’m trying to do my weekly shop with a kid, and you’ve swapped everything around!’

‘All I want to do is make a slow cooker casserole, but I can’t find anything!’ says another woman, and promptly bursts into tears. ‘I just want to go home!’

‘If you all take a minute to look at the signs . . .’

‘The signs are useless!’ says a man, stepping forward. He looks like a farmer in his town clothes, perhaps sent in by the wife to pick up some groceries while he’s paying bills. Our city is a regional one, surrounded by wheat belts and sheep. The farmer is angry, calloused hands bunched into fists. ‘You’ve made dog’s breakfast of this. I’ve been in here for half a bloody hour!’

More nods. More voices joining in. And then someone says, ‘You can’t keep doing this! We already spend our money here. Why do you always need more of it?’

I never knew who said it. That quiet voice. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.

‘If you just give me a moment, I’ll find some floor staff to assist you . . .’

But then someone else says it. ‘Why do always you need more?’

I find myself repeating it, along with half the people around me.

The manager takes a step back as it becomes a soft chant.

As one, we take a step forward.

9.23am

The manager puts up a good fight but eventually goes down, arms flailing, mouth open in shock as the old lady whacks him with her walking stick, saying, ‘Its just not good enough, young man!’

He’s curled up in a ball now, begging for his life. Security is coming. I put down my basket and pick up the heaviest thing in it; a tin of Corinthian chocolate wafers. They weren’t on my list, but I was looking for tea towels, and they were there, and I was so tired . . .

As I pulled them from a shelf a worn-out looking mother of twin boys who seemed to be trying to kill each other in her shopping cart whispered, ‘Don’t you see? That’s how they get you.’

The middle-aged man beside me has a can of peas and carrots in each hand. The security guards, two men in vests, hesitate.

Someone hurls a jar of Olay Regenerist Night Cream at the tallest one, and it catches him above the eye. He collapses, boneless, and we’re running now, hurling packaged meat and tinned puddings and scented candles, animal-like screams coming from our mouths as the second guard turns and runs.

9.28am

The surviving security guard has locked the doors and is calling the police. He’s saying it’s not okay to beat up store managers and kill security guards with night cream. But as he makes his speech, his thumbs hooked into his belt, the woman with the still-fighting twins lifts them out of her shopping cart and shoves them at him.

‘Attack!’ she screams, and the twins hurls themselves at the guard’s ankles. Teeth snap. The security guard is dancing around, eyes bulging as he screams.

‘Get them off me! For the love of god, get them off me!’

We don’t.

The twins are wrapped around his legs. He stumbles and falls to the floor. One boy immediately latches onto his ear with tiny teeth. Blood flows and we watch with shiny, embittered eyes. Someone has wrapped a blue and white tea towel around a broom handle. They light it with a Bic lighter and lift it high as police cars scream into the carpark, sirens wailing above the security guard’s cries.

9.48am

The manager is being spit-roasted in the meat section.

Many have surround him in a circle, swaying and chanting, but I find the smell overpowering, so when someone suggests serving him with mint sauce I volunteer to go find some.

The condiment section has been taken over by a handful of shoppers that stop me from entering. But their leader, a sweaty man with chilli sauce smeared across his cheeks, is willing to trade. They want coleslaw, he says. And three hot roast chickens.

Three is a ridiculous number. I point out how many people are locked in here, and he relents.

‘One, then,’ he grunts. ‘But we want cola. And barbecue shapes.’

I make my way back as Cruel Summer begins to play overhead.

The meat section was taken over by those of us who first turned on the staff. The two women behind the counter quickly surrendered and were seemingly eager to become part of our tribe, but unbeknown to me, while I was searching the land for mint sauce, they rebelled and split up into their own sub-tribe. They are now in control of all the roast chickens.

I approach. They’re defensive, hostile. Susan, the older one, tells me they’ll trade for weapons.

‘There’s only two of us,’ she says, as the other woman, Barb, nods in agreement. ‘We need to be able to defend ourselves.’

I hear someone shout, ‘Where’s the bloody mint sauce?’ I know my position in the meat section is tenuous, so I agree.

10.02am

Kitchen utensils have been claimed by an all-male warrior clan.

They’ve scarred themselves with a Wiltshire Staysharp. A slow burning fire fuelled by cardboard packaging heats the blade red hot, and each man draws it across their chest three times.

Those who refuse the ritual are banished to the barren land of plasticware, further up the aisle. They’re mostly younger and weaker males, their future bleak.

Over the fire looms a vaguely human-shaped effigy made from barbecue tongs lashed together with plastic ties. Jamie Oliver’s face peers out from the cover of a recipe book that’s placed on the head of this figure. I watch, fascinated, as their newest member draws the blade across his skin while the others chant, ‘Blood is life! Life is blood!’

I roll my eyes. Jamie Oliver’s smile seems to grow wider.

The farmer is their leader. He looks down at me as I ask for a knife or two.

‘No woman shall wield the weapons of steel!’ he bellows, and from behind him his clan chant, ‘No woman! No woman!’

I try to explain how offensive that is. He doesn’t listen. His arms are crossed over his bare chest, blood dripping. But as he turns away, one of the younger men takes pity on me. He slips me a small paring knife and a recipe book.

‘May our great god Jamieoliver bestow his benevolence upon you, woman,’ he says. It’s the most kindness I’ll get from these cavemen, so I nod my thanks and leave.

10.12am

The rotisserie warriors aren’t happy with me.

One paring knife to defend themselves is pretty poor, given their numbers. Their hostility towards me grows, and I have no choice. I offer to join them. I never belonged in the meat section anyway.

They anoint my forehead with hot chicken juice. It burns, but I try not to flinch. I promise to uphold our territory, with my life if necessary. I’m handed a hot chicken, nestled inside its little plastic carry-bag, and begin my journey.

10.17am

I trade the recipe book for a box of barbeque shapes.

I don’t know why the people of savoury biscuits would want a recipe book. Maybe its because they’re distracted; they’re at war with the other half of the aisle, the tribe that rule over assorted creams and scotch fingers and caramel crowns. I can hear the warring factions taunt each other loudly as I continue my journey.

The smoke mart has been taken over by teenagers. They’re lanky and feral, demanding chips and cola from those who wish to trade. They’re being watched over by the mothers who have created a sanctuary in the baby aisle. Their children play with each other while the women sit in a circle, breastfeeding and talking earnestly about the politics of the surrounding lands and the possibility of creating a yoga retreat.

In party supplies there’s a celebration that is said to never end. The people of this land pop streamers at each other while dancing to the non-stop music. They don’t seem to eat or drink, and whenever a Kylie song comes on they go slightly bananas. They seem oblivious to everything else as balloons fill the air, but I’m told that if you wander too close they will try and pull you in.

I skirt around the snacks aisle, even though it makes my journey longer. The people there are twitchy and half-crazed. I see a man spread-eagled on the floor, making a liquorice angel. His lips are ringed in chocolate, his eyes glazed, lost in Sugarland.

In the soft drink section everyone is begging for Cola. Someone from the distant electrical tribe hands over a kettle and a toaster for a single 1.25ml bottle. She clutches it to her chest as it’s handed over, and when I get too close to her, she growls.

The leader is short but ferocious. Muscles like MMA fighter. Spiky hair.

‘What do you want?’ she asks.

‘Cola.’

‘One chicken.’

‘What?’

‘I know who you are, rotisserie woman.’

‘I can offer you a quarter pack . . .’

‘No trade.’

‘But a whole one is ridiculous . . .’

‘No trade!’ she screams, and suddenly her crew are behind her. They’ve made armour out of drink cartons, their cardboard-clad shapes hostile.

What could I do? I gave her my chicken.

10.25am

The people of condiments are restless. The leader snatches my offerings and glares at me.

‘Where is the fowl you promised?’

‘I had to trade it, for that,’ I said, nodding at the plastic bottle in his hands. ‘My journey has been long. I could use a meal and rest before I start back . . .’

‘There’s no food in these lands,’ he said, and I suddenly notice that his people are packing jars and squeeze bottles into shopping bags.

‘We are joining the peoples of the great meat section,’ he says, watching me. ‘They’ve agreed we will be a stronger tribe together. Here . . .’ He shoves a jar of mint sauce at me. ‘I would have gone with applesauce,’ he adds, shrugging. ‘But whatever.’

I leave them to pack and prepare for their long journey.

As I pass the biscuit aisle a man in a hoodie whispers a promise of chocolate and sweetness. I keep my gaze steady, and my feet don’t slow. On my travels I have seen what people will do for a tim tam, and I will not go down that road.

When I finally reach the great plains of the meat section I’m exhausted. The mint sauce is grabbed out of my hands.

The manager is being carved and served up on paper serviettes.

10.28am

My homeland has been depleted. Many chickens have been traded for water and coleslaw and lunch rolls. But that’s not all that’s troubling my clanswomen.

There is talk of war.

10.30am

The coming battle is over the bathrooms.

They’re being guarded by a tribe of warriors in store uniforms. They call themselves Staff.

They have nothing but pure hate for us. They talk of how our people once murdered their leader in cold blood, back in ancient times. They refuse all talks of peace and trade.

They are strong in numbers, so invasion will only be possible if enough tribes join together.

The warrior clan are on board, of course, as is the meat section and the condiment crew. The party people don’t even hear the request; they’re too busy throwing glitter into the air and singing along to Black Velvet, and the mothers are putting babies down for naps and firmly shushing anyone that approaches.

We of the rotisserie chickens have no choice other than to join. We are too few in numbers to be truly independent, though we’ve been joined by a fourth. Janet is from the meat section. She became disenfranchised when she suggested they start wrapping the cold cuts and rationing them. Instead, they decided to trade almost a third of their supplies for cheese and olives, and are gorging on antipasto.

‘But what about tomorrow?’ she says. ‘What about the future?’

So we shall fight.

10.40am

The people of Staff were ready for us.

They’re armed with toilet brushes and bleach. The clash is ferocious, chaotic, and unbelievably loud. I’m knocked to the white floor, the smell of bleach heavy in the air. Over the screams I can hear Cowboys and Kisses, yet again. Am I going mad? I get to my feet and run forward, armed only with sharpened chicken bones.

Suddenly a roll of toilet paper is thrown into the air. We stop as one and stare as it unravels in slow motion — a streaming white banner that floats gently to the floor.

Surrender.

The war is over.

We decide not to take prisoners, because we all really need the loo. We line up, bloodied and bruised. Some are weeping.

Suddenly a procession of people appear from health and haircare. They glide towards us, silent, their faces serene, their hair long and glossy. In their hands are band aids and bandages, aspirin and medicated creams. They start to bandage our wounds, tend to our sprains.

We’re suspicious. What do you want? We ask. Who side are you on?

‘We take no sides,’ they say, their words little more than sighs. ‘We wish only to heal.’

It’s been a long, hard morning. Will we ever make sense out of this chaos?

11.05am

We’ve had our first death.

It’s from the small, strange tribe of people that protect all the peanuts. Driven mad by thirst, they went to war with the water people. But there were too few of them , and after they were driven back one of them promptly died of salt poisoning.

We wrapped his body in a blue cotton throw, and the cold, sombre people of frozen foods allowed us to place his body gently in a freezer.

Strangely, it has bought a kind of peace to our lands. We know now that we need to get along, to live in tolerance of one another, if we are to survive. We may be many lands, but we are just one supermarket, after all.

Trade has become easier and more reasonable. Children are allowed to play outside their borders, though adults must seek a clan leader’s permission to enter any land they’re not from. The mothers have lectured the teenagers about sharing and water is distributed fairly, though I can’t say the same for soft drink. Those people are still jerks.

Our one law is that anyone caught stealing will have a hand ceremoniously removed by the warrior clan leader. This was argued against by the elfin creatures of heath and haircare, but in the end even they saw that trust must be built.

As for my small tribe . . . our stocks are low and we know the end is coming. Janet has started dating someone in ice cream. She says the marriage will secure her future. Perhaps she is right, but I have a strong streak of independence and won’t marry, even for choc mint. Perhaps I will join health and haircare — they’ve set up a small salon and are offering a free cut and shampoo to anyone that wants to become one of them.

12.09pm

Janet has done a runner, taking our last precious chicken with her, as dowry.

We are more sad and betrayed than angry, though if I ever catch her alone I’ll use the paring knife without remorse.

Reluctantly we part ways, and I find myself cast adrift in this new world. I set off, looking for a home.

12.14pm

The elder of health and haircare rejects me.

‘You are from those that eat the flesh of animal,’ they sigh. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman. Their hair is so long it brushes the floor. Their skin in translucent, glowing.

‘But I’m just trying to survive.’

‘We live on vitamins, and the light from above that shines on us perpetually. We spend our days trading peacefully with the people from beauty and cosmetics. We help anyone who is in need of pampering, expecting no reward.’ A delicate eyebrow arches. ‘You would not fit in, you — who battles over bathrooms and wields the knife.’

‘Just give me a chance, please! I don’t want to be on my own out there.’

But its no use. The elder offers me a small packet. ‘Take this peppermint conditioner sample. If you can tame the split ends of your heart as well as those in your hair, you may return.’

‘But . . .’

‘Goodbye, traveller,’ the being sighs, and drifts back to the others.

12.26pm

I’ve been caught up in a small skirmish between pasta and bakery.

I can’t tell if its tomato sauce or blood that’s running across the floor. I don’t even know how the battle started, except that it had something to do with breadsticks. I try to run, but someone hits me with a solid cob loaf. I see the floor coming, but I don’t remember hitting it.

4.35pm

When I come to, the battle is over.

I’m in a deserted no-man’s land, somewhere between bakery and pet food. The floor is smeared with red, the air heavy with the scent of parmesan. Overhead a light flickers, making me disorientated. When I sit up and check my watch I’m horrified by how long I’ve been unconscious.

The land is silent, and eerily still.

Suddenly a tiny service dog bolts out of the pet food aisle, teeth bared and tags jingling. Behind it a group of people are hollering at me and making shooing gestures. Something is wrong with them, but I can’t place it as I stagger to my feet.

The dog is still charging. The people jump up and down, urging the creature on. With horror I register the sounds they’re making; hoots and grunts and strange clicks. There are no words. Their clothes are rags. Their feet are bare.

I’m so dazed the creature is almost upon me before I run.

My surroundings are frighteningly unfamiliar. Aisles twist and curve strangely. Shelves are empty. Some have toppled to the floor. Both hair and healthcare and beauty and cosmetics are completely abandoned, and as I run along a path littered with empty shampoo bottles and broken hairbrushes, I hear a voice whisper from the bright lights above me.

‘We have fled the flesh-bodies, traveller. This land has fallen to ruin.’

I stumble over abandoned Country Style magazines. I catch glimpses of the others; faces that peer from behind cereal box camouflage, figures that sink behind the carcasses of checkouts. Something calls out from wilderness, a long, drawn-out sound that is both mournful and savage.

I keep running long after the snarls behind me have faded, looking for refuge.

5pm

A special-ops team crashes through the doors, hurling teargas cannisters and shouting.

I was asleep under a row of shopping carts, living in the outlands to avoid the violent primitives, and they don’t see me.

From the haze of gas comes startled yips and grunts. In the distance I glimpse wild-looking figures, scattering. I wander out of doors that have been forced open, only to be body-slammed by four police officers in full riot gear.

The pavement rises up to meet my face. I breathe in concrete and cigarette butts and fresh air. The smell of outside. Memories are rushing back, of a younger me, parking my car and pulling shopping bags out of the boot. I’m hauled to my feet and with wonder I see the sky. I’d forgotten its blue. I’d forgotten the sweet, soft brightness of natural light.

I begin sobbing with relief. Someone is saying, ‘What’s your name? Do you know?’

I don’t. I just know I’ve survived. I’ve gotten out of the supermarket.

*Certain events in this retelling may be slightly exaggerated.

If you liked reading this, and I hope you did, please consider buying me a coffee.

#short story #humour #dark humour #fiction #writing humour #writing community #writers on tumblr #was it wrong to spit-roast the store manager?

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rhiannon-a-christy · 6 years

Text

Gunpowder Kiss

The flickering of fire reflected in the eyes of a young girl. Her jaw set tight as she watched her home go up in flames. The men that had done this were dancing wildly around the house, hooting and hollering about their victory. Tears fell from her eyes, but she refused to turn away.

Behind her she could hear her younger sisters trying to muffle their cries. Pa was still in the house, lying face down in a puddle of his own blood. She had seen the coward that had shot him in the back, his black eyes had been wild with bloodlust. The only thing in this terrible night that she was thankful for was the fact that her sisters had been spared seeing their Pa die.

A slender hand clasped tightly to hers, and even over the smell of burning wood she could make out the comforting scent of her older sister. She held a bit tighter to that hand. It had been hard after their Ma died, but they still had Pa and Uncle Clint to care for them. But Pa was dead now, and they hadn’t seen Uncle Clint in months. It would be up to the two of them to protect their family.

Her sharp young eyes looked over the face of every man that had wronged them. If there was any justice in the world they would all pay for their sins that night, and Darcy Lewis had every intention of making sure that justice would be served.

----------------------------

Darcy pulled her hat lower over her face, ignoring the looks from everyone in the saloon. Vision Valley was a small settlement, and she was sure they had never seen the likes of her. Most of the women in Vision were ladies; dresses, curls, and hats. She would bet all her money that they never missed a day in church, or ever touched a gun. So, it didn’t surprise her that she garnered the stares she did dressed as a man.

Dresses were all well and fine, but she left those mostly for her sister. Jane was the gentler of the two of them. That was why she left the details of what she did for a living away from Jane. Though she was sure her sister’s husband knew. Thor was a massive man; he had been a US Marshal until he had met Jane. Love and fear of leaving behind a family made him into a farmer. She didn’t blame him, he was a good man. Jane had met him when they were still pretty young, and Thor had taken it upon himself to protect not just her, but also her three sisters.

Darcy called the man her brother, and for a time she thought that bond would be strengthened. She had been young and stupid, falling for his brother as she had. But neither of them were made for marriage, and had proved toxic to each other. She still saw him, but one night in his bed was enough for her.

A glint of light sparkled off her ale, catching Darcy’s eye. Without a word, she stood and tossed a few coins onto the table. She kept her eyes straight ahead, though every movement made around her was not lost on her. She had learned long ago that she had to watch her own back.

Her gait was calm as she walked across the road to the doors of The Red Room. A month ago, she had been tipped off about the brothel and one of its regulars. She had ridden into town with a simple plan in mind; to avenge her Pa.

It had been years since that night, and in that time, she had rid the world of five of the men that murdered him. After this there would be one left.

No one looked up when she entered the brothel. The men thought she had come for service, and the whores, well more than just their bodies could be bought for a few coins. The place smelled like smoke, sweat and sex, and it turned her stomach. The sooner she killed the bastard, the sooner she could get the hell out of Vision.

The stairs creaked as she alighted them, but no one paid her any mind. This wouldn’t be the first blood spilled in the Red Room, and she doubted it would be the last. She stopped just outside the door she had been informed contained her man. Her gun hand flexed, the bones in her fingers cracking. She took a deep breath and slid the door open. The tap of her boot on the doorframe alerted the woman in the bed, and she quickly jumped off and across the room. The man didn’t even get the chance to speak before Darcy pulled her gun and placed a bullet between his bloodshot eyes.

The body fell back against the bed, making the springs squeak. Darcy took a moment to take in the sight of the man. He was sprawled across the mattress, his body naked and covered in dirt and sweat. She laughed, the bastard still had his fucking boots on.

Darcy pulled a few coins from the pocket of her vest and tossed it to the woman across the room.

“You should at least get paid extra for actually being brave enough to touch that animal.” She holstered her gun, turned and left.

One man left, one and her job would finally be over. And she knew exactly where he was.

------------------------------------

Phil leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the man behind the bars. Grant Ward, known cattle rustler, bank robber, and murderer. The man had come into his life a couple of years ago with an innocent smile and a different name. He had integrated himself into his family; became his friend and stole his daughter’s heart. He probably would have been none the wiser to the man’s true identity if it hadn’t been for that storm.

Phil’s home was located a ways from the town; a large ranch that he had dreams of running with his wife before reality tore that away. After his wife’s death he had taken the job of sheriff, traveling back and forth between the ranch and jailhouse every day. Normally he would set out, making it home in time to devour the hot meal Daisy prepared. But there had been a storm that night, and he hadn’t even made it to the edge of town when he realized it would be too dangerous to continue. He had hightailed it back to the jailhouse with plans to spend the night in the cell. Only when he opened the door it was too find the man he thought of as a son rifling through his papers. It hadn’t taken long after that for the truth to come out.

Now, Ward sat in his jail awaiting the circuit judge to make his visit. Phil had no doubt that the trial would end in a hanging, Ward was wanted for the death of some pretty important people back east. Still, it pained him to see the man behind bars.

Rain once again pelted against the side of the jail, reminding Phil of the night it all went to hell. He sighed, but continued the staring contest between his prisoner.

When the door opened behind him he had expected to hear Daisy’s soft voice. She would come sometimes to bring him dinner, and to remind herself of the hatred she now had for Ward. No voice was forth coming, no clang of his tin plate. Only steady breathing and the wide eyes of Grant Ward.

Phil turned in time to see the visitor pull a gun. He didn’t take the time to think, just grabbed his rifle from beside him and took aim.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to protect this animal. You know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you or your daughter?”

Phil’s aim faltered for a moment, he hadn’t been expecting the gentle lilt of a woman’s voice. In a manner of seconds he catalogued every detail he could. Short frame, curves hidden behind the heavy draping of leather, a mess of dark hair shoved haphazardly under her hat, and a set of lips too full to be any man’s shadowed by the wide brim.

“All men deserve the proper due justice, no matter how evil.” Phil raised the barrel into place again. This woman was no lady playing dress up; she held her gun with practice hands. He would no doubt bet she had more than one kill under her belt.

“You speak of justice? Is it justice for an innocent man to die just because he refused to sell his land? Is it justice when four young girls are thrust out in the world after watching their home burn?” The woman walked closer, her boots leaving dark, wet prints along the floor. “Is it justice when the men who did this were thanked a year later by the town’s sheriff for restoring the very land they burned?”

Phil could hear the anger and pain in the woman’s voice, and for a moment he thought about standing down. Just a moment.

The sound of movement behind him brought his attention to the fact that Ward had stood.

“I was only a boy back then, Ma’am. I beg you for your mercy.” Ward’s fingers wrapped around the bars of the jail, his head tilted slightly.

His voice was off, lighter than Phil had ever heard it. He looked around and saw it in the other man’s eyes. A twisted hope, the understanding that he wouldn’t die. Not at this woman’s hands and not by Phil’s either. It sickened him.

“A boy that gloried in his first kill. I watched you that day, how your eyes sparkled when your shot made its target.” The woman never dropped her gun, never weakened her stance.

“And how do you feel when you kill? It’s glorious, isn’t it?” Ward pressed his face against the bar, his unnerving smile twisting his features.

“I take no glory in the death of men… animals on the other hand.”

Phil had no time to stop her, his attention more on Ward. Before anything more could be said, the woman shot off her gun, the bullet planting itself directly between the eyes. A kill shot, fast and messy.

She took a few steps closer, set her gun on the table and removed her hat. Her tangled hair fell past her hips, a half-attempted braid could be seen holding it together. Her eyes lifted to his, some unnamed emotion making them shine brightly in the dim room. With a small smile she lifted her hands before her, palms down.

“Do with me as you see fit. My job is done.”

Phil stepped up to her, his hands grasping hers. He knew the best course of action; the proper course was to place her in the cell where Ward’s dead body lay. She had killed, takin the law into her own hands and executed a man.

He placed her hands on top of one another, gave them a small pat and stood back.

“There is a wagon out back. Hitch up the horse and pull it around to the side of the jail. There is a ravine halfway to my ranch, no one goes there much.” He turned from the woman, gathering up the keys to the cell. He was insane, this was stupid, but he couldn’t imagine this woman hanging from the end of a rope.

“Sheriff?”

“This wouldn’t be the first time that Ward Grant escaped from jail.” He gave her a lopsided smile and a wink. “Now, go get that wagon, girl.”

She just shook her head and moved towards the door, turning at the last moment.

“I’m Darcy, by the way.” With that she bolted outside and around the back.

Phil stood there for a moment just breathing. He could lose his job for this… he could lose his life. But she had been right, there had been no justice.

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Author’s Note: Oh look, I’ve actually posted something! Yeah, so life got hectic, work and crap, and I’ve just been too tired to write anything. I actually started this a bit ago and finally finished it. I’ve really been in a western mood again, you will most likely see a lot more western aus from me.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

#Darcyland #darcy lewis #darcy x phil #agenttaser #western au #oneshot

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