08-04-2016, 01:06 AM
“That damn bastard!” but when Red turned his head, expecting to see Christa livid with the latest news from the tape, instead, she was looking at her own reflection. Perhaps she had expected to see Will Smith, because she exclaimed, “Christ is this what I look like?”
Red could’ve cared less that half of her hair was less than chin length and the other past her shoulders, probably because he had fur all over, but it seemed Christa thought her hair was even more important than Karl’s mission. “Look what that cannibal did to me!” she sighed, her expression wilted, Abner had liked her long hair. Had she forgotten the chunk viciously taken out of her shoulder? Human coping mechanisms were almost comical, Christa didn’t seem like the type to fall into those standards, but he watched her examine herself. She was withered, her skin had a sickly gray pallor, and there were dark circles under her eyes – whether from too much blood loss or lack of sleep, Red didn’t know – but she was worried about, of all things, her hair.
“I’ll have to cut it,” she declared in a hollow voice. Red hesitated, unsure how to pull her from this state, she could lash out or freak out. Instead, he paused patiently and watched what she’d do next. Items clattered to the ground as Christa searched for what Red assumed to be scissors, but they weren’t there. She didn’t want to use the blood splattered knife –it had hardened on, there was no scraping layers and layers of ichor that dulled the blade itself– and Christa, admitting defeat, turned back to Red.
Nanaki, for sure, thought he was going to be asked if it really looked “that bad,” but it seemed the woman was over it, for her eyes had set with renewed vitality. “Good luck calling anyone with those big paws of yours, I’ll hold onto it, and when there’s service we’ll use the number, I can’t imagine there are many cell towers on this god-forsaken island. ” she’d been present the whole time, and slipped it in her pocket... But not before a hot rush of color flushed to her cheeks and her eyes dart away when she saw the wallpaper of the phone.
Pop!
Red looked up to see she had unscrewed a cork and held the bottle to her lips, she had but a sip of the tasteful Merlot before coughing for lack of a glass. “Smarmy bastard has good taste, but I’m more of a whiskey gal myself. Oh don’t look at me like that, I’m not trying to get drunk, you know before people had clean water they survived off of drinks like this all day? Yeah well, let’s say I’m going with that. Ha, despite it all, Karl’s actually kind of a funny guy,” she admitted having another sip of the wine that would never even give her a decent buzz, “Though I don’t know why he keeps calling you a dog, you’re closer to a man. Or maybe he’s trying to call me one, y’know, man’s best friend and all? Anyway, he knew about my sister, and I’ll punch his stubbly face next time I see him to repay him for not telling me sooner, but he likes to play the game, in fact, I think that’s all he’s ever done. Hate the sin, love the sinner.”
Another sip before she re-corked it, “He abandoned his wine stores, and baited us up here, we’re at the top of this building, the undead for sure have–”
An eerie knocking commenced.
“Exactly,” Right on cue. She called to them, “Yeah yeah, just a minute, I’m taking a leak!” A sigh, “We’re gonna have to fight our way out, but you know KARL,” she shouted as though believing the Great Karl had ears everywhere whilst enraging the beasts just outside, “IT WOULD BE A LOT FUCKING EASIER IF YOU HADN’T MELTED MY BERETTA. And yes, I’m still pissed about it”
The sniper turned her eyes from the ceiling, “Luckily, I have an alternative, oh yeah, it gives new meaning to the phrase, ‘one shot, one kill’ that’s for sure. Anyway, I’ve got two frags, one flash bang, and one smoke grenade. Nanaki,” her eyes caught his in the dim light of his tail’s flame, hoping to captivate him enough so he would accept the seriousness of her words, “It is very possible that only one of us will make it out of this. Unfortunately, I don’t see any bedsheets in this office, only pens and sex toys, else I’d hop out the window and belay my way down, oh yeah, that and I’ve only got one working arm and can’t run for shit to distract them so you could escape. Red, I have no doubt that since we’ve come this far together, we can make it out of this alive, but I’m more afraid of actually becoming one of those things. Kill me if I do.”
Red nodded, feeling the same exact way, “You’re not talking much,” she said, a hint of concern in her charismatic voice, “We’ll get through this. Adversity doesn’t have to shape us, instead, we can use it to become stronger, better, wiser. You know Red, when I was holding you at gunpoint and thought you were a monster? Ha, well, looks like there are worse things, I’m sorry.”
Apologies were for endings.
“There’s no need to apologize,” the lion said nobly and Christa continued to inspect the room, hoping to find something of use.
“Couldn’t die with myself if I didn’t,” she admitted, “We’ll both find them, and Abner, and the bunker, but who the hell is this Wade guy?” Finally, something useful. She sighed with relief as her eyes caught placed at the very back of the dark safe, stashed away, almost like a lost memory. “Only one thing of brandy Karl, really?”
Thud thud, she was reminded of the undead and wrangled her thoughts back into place. “Anyway, do you think a smoke signal would do the trick? I’m not exactly about to go patrol the town looking for survivors, but I think Karl’s implying there still are some. Though, what does he know if he’s dead?” her eyes lingered to the window, looking down eight stories and across the deserted town, “It’s darker than death out there. God, like, straight out of a King horror movie.” A determined smile cracked her lips, “Are you ready to go?”
Red’s whiskers quivered and his silence was filled with the beating of the true beasts against the wall, soulless, carnivorous undead. “Right then,” the woman pushed her chin up as her eyes narrowed, “We know they like fire, and I bet you the undead burn pretty nicely, eh?”
Their first task was to escape the confined space alive. Christa had a plan, but she had limited resources, luckily one nearly unlimited, was Karl’s delicious wine collection. Hey, he said “help yourself.”
It happened all at once.
The door burst open, the hinges unable to hold on any longer. Sparkling glass shattered in a spray along one side of the room, the sniper had thrown her bottle at the animated beings with perfect aim. The brandy covered their molting flesh and now all Red had to do was light it. A push toppled over the bottles on the wine rack, each rolled free and at the uncoordinated ghouls that were rushing at her while Red concealed himself behind a leather chair. One undead, frothing at the mouth and spewing its bacteria infested saliva growled a low rumble. The daunting creature tripped when it lunged at Christa and the sniper used her good arm to shove the dead executive’s desk into it, its smell was rank with decay and now mingled with the sharp taste of alcohol. Crack! a bottle exploded and its sharp end found itself in the frothing one’s eye. Satisfied with the distraction and payback, the woman dove underneath the desk and below their slow, unseeing, clutches sliding past their strings for muscles which now struggled for balance.
Christa skidded to safety by his side and Red released a flaming sphere launched straight at their center. A burst of heat followed by a streak of light. The monsters were ablaze in a scene more hopeful than the rising sun; the demons burned. Christa was shoving Red’s rear out the door, while the thwarted undead let out a combined roar of rage; they would not be subdued so easily. One was too close and had not been touched by the fire nor the crippling collision of Red’s attack. The Prime’s knife landed square in its forehead and she watched it collapse. The next aflame zombie extended its once-manicured, now-mutilated hand caked in thick black gore as it grabbed for Christa’s shoulder. A quick dodge cast the slow she-ghoul away, its torso had been impaled by a sharp sword, melted in its already decomposing flesh and framed by its blackened ribs. Well, she wasn’t using it.
The sniper’s empty hand went for it. The hilt of worn leather was warm as the smiling Christa dodged a snap from the pink-nailed zombie while staring down the beast’s demonic eyes. The Prime was high from the thrill and excited by her enemy’s sole craving: To kill. She had examined and basked in her victory for too long, trying to tell whether or not there was a person still in there–burning alive– as another chomp came an inch from closing around her neck, so close that she had felt the warmth of its sick-infused air. The abyssal pupils of the cremating zombie had expanded past its irises and by contrast the last corners of the white in its eyes had turned a deep blood-red. Gluttonous pain was the source behind every desperate jerk the haunted corpse made. It was as though when the zombie filled her rotting gums with something alive that the saliva could slobber on, the immediate gush of flavor would mean at least one second the un-human wouldn’t have to feel like such a nameless monster. Like it took a single ounce of flesh to be filled with human again, rabid to feel anything other than the carnal desire to kill.
The blade came out of the molten cartilage as easily as butter, light in her hand, and cut through the air with a soft whip, THWINNNG! Christa felt the purr of hot metal, both the steel and its wielder were craving for something else to slice.
The ghoul-woman’s wrinkly head fell to the ground with a dense, conclusive THUD! Christa used this time to kick back the decapitated body into the remaining three and turned quickly to the stairs. Swiftly, she dug in, the sole of her oozing shoe squeaking where it had melted.
Red could’ve cared less that half of her hair was less than chin length and the other past her shoulders, probably because he had fur all over, but it seemed Christa thought her hair was even more important than Karl’s mission. “Look what that cannibal did to me!” she sighed, her expression wilted, Abner had liked her long hair. Had she forgotten the chunk viciously taken out of her shoulder? Human coping mechanisms were almost comical, Christa didn’t seem like the type to fall into those standards, but he watched her examine herself. She was withered, her skin had a sickly gray pallor, and there were dark circles under her eyes – whether from too much blood loss or lack of sleep, Red didn’t know – but she was worried about, of all things, her hair.
“I’ll have to cut it,” she declared in a hollow voice. Red hesitated, unsure how to pull her from this state, she could lash out or freak out. Instead, he paused patiently and watched what she’d do next. Items clattered to the ground as Christa searched for what Red assumed to be scissors, but they weren’t there. She didn’t want to use the blood splattered knife –it had hardened on, there was no scraping layers and layers of ichor that dulled the blade itself– and Christa, admitting defeat, turned back to Red.
Nanaki, for sure, thought he was going to be asked if it really looked “that bad,” but it seemed the woman was over it, for her eyes had set with renewed vitality. “Good luck calling anyone with those big paws of yours, I’ll hold onto it, and when there’s service we’ll use the number, I can’t imagine there are many cell towers on this god-forsaken island. ” she’d been present the whole time, and slipped it in her pocket... But not before a hot rush of color flushed to her cheeks and her eyes dart away when she saw the wallpaper of the phone.
Pop!
Red looked up to see she had unscrewed a cork and held the bottle to her lips, she had but a sip of the tasteful Merlot before coughing for lack of a glass. “Smarmy bastard has good taste, but I’m more of a whiskey gal myself. Oh don’t look at me like that, I’m not trying to get drunk, you know before people had clean water they survived off of drinks like this all day? Yeah well, let’s say I’m going with that. Ha, despite it all, Karl’s actually kind of a funny guy,” she admitted having another sip of the wine that would never even give her a decent buzz, “Though I don’t know why he keeps calling you a dog, you’re closer to a man. Or maybe he’s trying to call me one, y’know, man’s best friend and all? Anyway, he knew about my sister, and I’ll punch his stubbly face next time I see him to repay him for not telling me sooner, but he likes to play the game, in fact, I think that’s all he’s ever done. Hate the sin, love the sinner.”
Another sip before she re-corked it, “He abandoned his wine stores, and baited us up here, we’re at the top of this building, the undead for sure have–”
An eerie knocking commenced.
“Exactly,” Right on cue. She called to them, “Yeah yeah, just a minute, I’m taking a leak!” A sigh, “We’re gonna have to fight our way out, but you know KARL,” she shouted as though believing the Great Karl had ears everywhere whilst enraging the beasts just outside, “IT WOULD BE A LOT FUCKING EASIER IF YOU HADN’T MELTED MY BERETTA. And yes, I’m still pissed about it”
The sniper turned her eyes from the ceiling, “Luckily, I have an alternative, oh yeah, it gives new meaning to the phrase, ‘one shot, one kill’ that’s for sure. Anyway, I’ve got two frags, one flash bang, and one smoke grenade. Nanaki,” her eyes caught his in the dim light of his tail’s flame, hoping to captivate him enough so he would accept the seriousness of her words, “It is very possible that only one of us will make it out of this. Unfortunately, I don’t see any bedsheets in this office, only pens and sex toys, else I’d hop out the window and belay my way down, oh yeah, that and I’ve only got one working arm and can’t run for shit to distract them so you could escape. Red, I have no doubt that since we’ve come this far together, we can make it out of this alive, but I’m more afraid of actually becoming one of those things. Kill me if I do.”
Red nodded, feeling the same exact way, “You’re not talking much,” she said, a hint of concern in her charismatic voice, “We’ll get through this. Adversity doesn’t have to shape us, instead, we can use it to become stronger, better, wiser. You know Red, when I was holding you at gunpoint and thought you were a monster? Ha, well, looks like there are worse things, I’m sorry.”
Apologies were for endings.
“There’s no need to apologize,” the lion said nobly and Christa continued to inspect the room, hoping to find something of use.
“Couldn’t die with myself if I didn’t,” she admitted, “We’ll both find them, and Abner, and the bunker, but who the hell is this Wade guy?” Finally, something useful. She sighed with relief as her eyes caught placed at the very back of the dark safe, stashed away, almost like a lost memory. “Only one thing of brandy Karl, really?”
Thud thud, she was reminded of the undead and wrangled her thoughts back into place. “Anyway, do you think a smoke signal would do the trick? I’m not exactly about to go patrol the town looking for survivors, but I think Karl’s implying there still are some. Though, what does he know if he’s dead?” her eyes lingered to the window, looking down eight stories and across the deserted town, “It’s darker than death out there. God, like, straight out of a King horror movie.” A determined smile cracked her lips, “Are you ready to go?”
Red’s whiskers quivered and his silence was filled with the beating of the true beasts against the wall, soulless, carnivorous undead. “Right then,” the woman pushed her chin up as her eyes narrowed, “We know they like fire, and I bet you the undead burn pretty nicely, eh?”
Their first task was to escape the confined space alive. Christa had a plan, but she had limited resources, luckily one nearly unlimited, was Karl’s delicious wine collection. Hey, he said “help yourself.”
It happened all at once.
The door burst open, the hinges unable to hold on any longer. Sparkling glass shattered in a spray along one side of the room, the sniper had thrown her bottle at the animated beings with perfect aim. The brandy covered their molting flesh and now all Red had to do was light it. A push toppled over the bottles on the wine rack, each rolled free and at the uncoordinated ghouls that were rushing at her while Red concealed himself behind a leather chair. One undead, frothing at the mouth and spewing its bacteria infested saliva growled a low rumble. The daunting creature tripped when it lunged at Christa and the sniper used her good arm to shove the dead executive’s desk into it, its smell was rank with decay and now mingled with the sharp taste of alcohol. Crack! a bottle exploded and its sharp end found itself in the frothing one’s eye. Satisfied with the distraction and payback, the woman dove underneath the desk and below their slow, unseeing, clutches sliding past their strings for muscles which now struggled for balance.
Christa skidded to safety by his side and Red released a flaming sphere launched straight at their center. A burst of heat followed by a streak of light. The monsters were ablaze in a scene more hopeful than the rising sun; the demons burned. Christa was shoving Red’s rear out the door, while the thwarted undead let out a combined roar of rage; they would not be subdued so easily. One was too close and had not been touched by the fire nor the crippling collision of Red’s attack. The Prime’s knife landed square in its forehead and she watched it collapse. The next aflame zombie extended its once-manicured, now-mutilated hand caked in thick black gore as it grabbed for Christa’s shoulder. A quick dodge cast the slow she-ghoul away, its torso had been impaled by a sharp sword, melted in its already decomposing flesh and framed by its blackened ribs. Well, she wasn’t using it.
The sniper’s empty hand went for it. The hilt of worn leather was warm as the smiling Christa dodged a snap from the pink-nailed zombie while staring down the beast’s demonic eyes. The Prime was high from the thrill and excited by her enemy’s sole craving: To kill. She had examined and basked in her victory for too long, trying to tell whether or not there was a person still in there–burning alive– as another chomp came an inch from closing around her neck, so close that she had felt the warmth of its sick-infused air. The abyssal pupils of the cremating zombie had expanded past its irises and by contrast the last corners of the white in its eyes had turned a deep blood-red. Gluttonous pain was the source behind every desperate jerk the haunted corpse made. It was as though when the zombie filled her rotting gums with something alive that the saliva could slobber on, the immediate gush of flavor would mean at least one second the un-human wouldn’t have to feel like such a nameless monster. Like it took a single ounce of flesh to be filled with human again, rabid to feel anything other than the carnal desire to kill.
The blade came out of the molten cartilage as easily as butter, light in her hand, and cut through the air with a soft whip, THWINNNG! Christa felt the purr of hot metal, both the steel and its wielder were craving for something else to slice.
The ghoul-woman’s wrinkly head fell to the ground with a dense, conclusive THUD! Christa used this time to kick back the decapitated body into the remaining three and turned quickly to the stairs. Swiftly, she dug in, the sole of her oozing shoe squeaking where it had melted.
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus