10-26-2017, 08:31 AM
-plink-
Harlan slowly opened his eyes, the metallic sound of something hitting the floor infringing upon the wuiet oblivion he'd been submerged in. His vision came into focus upon a large caliber bullet, still smeared with his brain matter...but it was rather red. The subtle scent of something he recognized as dead man's blood wafted up from it.
So that's how they'd put him down so quickly. Someone in the Hutt's employ had working knowledge of Kindred...or a familiarity with the multitude of vampiric weaknesses. Heh. Too bad they hadn't tried garlic. He would have eaten it and then slaughtered them.
Speaking of slaughter...he realized he was hanging upside down, his wrists bound together and his legs shackled to the ceiling. His hat and shirt were gone, leaving his scarred torso bare as he hung there, suspended. It was some kind of bathroom or something, but with all the toilets and fixtures removed and drains sunk into the tile. Ah. Torture room. Figured.
"Oh good. You awake." He squinted towards the voice to reveal a bent, but by no means small, figure. His species revealed as he walked into the light. An pld Ork, with a grey hair and one eye. "You are Higgs. Good to meet you. I am Thragga Soft-Knife." Harlan rolled his eyes. "Torture is useless, you know. I can withstand anything you throw at me."
The Ork chuckled and wheeled in a stainless steel cart. "Oh, Gramba know. I get to do exploratory autopsy. Cut you into little bits and see what make you tick. Then mail pieces back to your gang." Harlan tried to focus, keep him talking. "You know I'm coming right back, greenskin. I'll be on your ass like nothing you've ever seen before. Like this."
The Ork laughed again as he picked up a knife and forced it through Harlan's dead skin, making an incision above his kidney. "No good, dead man. Whole building severed from Astral Verse. Ork Shamans touch it in a much more expert way. Can see the tracks you leave. No illusions to eat me while I work."
Shit. It was true, Harlan couldn't pull anything from the Dream. His soul felt isolated, alone. He started to think, plans running through his head as the Ork started slicing and prodding him, trying to elicit a reaction. He wasn't exactly lacking for blood...but the only thing he could do with it was....
"Ghazkul!" Thragga swore as his scalpel broke against Harlan's fortitude enhanced skin. "Miserable blood sucker." The old Ork turned away and Harlan sent the blood in his body coursing through his muscles, heaving his legs down and making the steel anchors they attached to buckle and pull out of the tile.
"Wha-" The ork turned around in shock, only to catch the end of the chain across his eye. Kicking out woth one leg, Harlan shoved the cart of torture implements away and snapped his ankle restraints. While the torturer was recovering, the Ravnos bent down and wrenched the chain tying his hands out as well, snapping the connectors and wrapping them around his fists.
Thragga came at him swinging, and buried a dagger in his chest to no effect. The vampire tackled him to the ground, using the length of chain dangling from his wrists to slowly throttle the life out of him. As the orc choked and sputtered, Harlan leaned in close and hissed. "You tell yer fookin' shaymans that you all just made a big mistake. You think we was a problem before? You don't know what a problem I can fookin' be, boyo."
And with that, Thragga's windpipe collapsed. Harlan stood up and kicked the corpse, before looting his pockets for anything useful. All he found was a collection of assorted personal items, necklaces and such, and a security card. Picking a few of the knives and scalpels off the ground, he crept over to the door, chains jingling.
Peeking out, he saw no one in the halls. Lining one wall were expensive glass windows, large enough for Harlan to see from the hallway. To see the unique challenge presented to him.
He was forty stories up, in a building full of enemy mobsters.
A grin split his lips.
'Just like the 70's. Time to go to work."
Harlan slowly opened his eyes, the metallic sound of something hitting the floor infringing upon the wuiet oblivion he'd been submerged in. His vision came into focus upon a large caliber bullet, still smeared with his brain matter...but it was rather red. The subtle scent of something he recognized as dead man's blood wafted up from it.
So that's how they'd put him down so quickly. Someone in the Hutt's employ had working knowledge of Kindred...or a familiarity with the multitude of vampiric weaknesses. Heh. Too bad they hadn't tried garlic. He would have eaten it and then slaughtered them.
Speaking of slaughter...he realized he was hanging upside down, his wrists bound together and his legs shackled to the ceiling. His hat and shirt were gone, leaving his scarred torso bare as he hung there, suspended. It was some kind of bathroom or something, but with all the toilets and fixtures removed and drains sunk into the tile. Ah. Torture room. Figured.
"Oh good. You awake." He squinted towards the voice to reveal a bent, but by no means small, figure. His species revealed as he walked into the light. An pld Ork, with a grey hair and one eye. "You are Higgs. Good to meet you. I am Thragga Soft-Knife." Harlan rolled his eyes. "Torture is useless, you know. I can withstand anything you throw at me."
The Ork chuckled and wheeled in a stainless steel cart. "Oh, Gramba know. I get to do exploratory autopsy. Cut you into little bits and see what make you tick. Then mail pieces back to your gang." Harlan tried to focus, keep him talking. "You know I'm coming right back, greenskin. I'll be on your ass like nothing you've ever seen before. Like this."
The Ork laughed again as he picked up a knife and forced it through Harlan's dead skin, making an incision above his kidney. "No good, dead man. Whole building severed from Astral Verse. Ork Shamans touch it in a much more expert way. Can see the tracks you leave. No illusions to eat me while I work."
Shit. It was true, Harlan couldn't pull anything from the Dream. His soul felt isolated, alone. He started to think, plans running through his head as the Ork started slicing and prodding him, trying to elicit a reaction. He wasn't exactly lacking for blood...but the only thing he could do with it was....
"Ghazkul!" Thragga swore as his scalpel broke against Harlan's fortitude enhanced skin. "Miserable blood sucker." The old Ork turned away and Harlan sent the blood in his body coursing through his muscles, heaving his legs down and making the steel anchors they attached to buckle and pull out of the tile.
"Wha-" The ork turned around in shock, only to catch the end of the chain across his eye. Kicking out woth one leg, Harlan shoved the cart of torture implements away and snapped his ankle restraints. While the torturer was recovering, the Ravnos bent down and wrenched the chain tying his hands out as well, snapping the connectors and wrapping them around his fists.
Thragga came at him swinging, and buried a dagger in his chest to no effect. The vampire tackled him to the ground, using the length of chain dangling from his wrists to slowly throttle the life out of him. As the orc choked and sputtered, Harlan leaned in close and hissed. "You tell yer fookin' shaymans that you all just made a big mistake. You think we was a problem before? You don't know what a problem I can fookin' be, boyo."
And with that, Thragga's windpipe collapsed. Harlan stood up and kicked the corpse, before looting his pockets for anything useful. All he found was a collection of assorted personal items, necklaces and such, and a security card. Picking a few of the knives and scalpels off the ground, he crept over to the door, chains jingling.
Peeking out, he saw no one in the halls. Lining one wall were expensive glass windows, large enough for Harlan to see from the hallway. To see the unique challenge presented to him.
He was forty stories up, in a building full of enemy mobsters.
A grin split his lips.
'Just like the 70's. Time to go to work."
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”