SnitchSeeker.com - View Single Post - 48 Hours: A Human Nature Side Story

OtterySt.Catchpole · 11-21-2010, 07:51 AM

RN: I'm still alive and so is this story ...

“Even in the darkness
Every color can be found
And every day of rain
Brings water flowing
To things growing in the ground

Grief replaced with pity
For a city barely coping
Dreams are easy to achieve
If hope is all I’m hoping to be

Anytime you’re hurt there’s one
Who has it worse around
And every drop of rain
Will keep you growing
Seeds you’re sowing in the ground”

~Penny’s Song from Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along-Blog

It seemed so silly, like something some amateur filmmaker would do, it wasn’t anything sophisticated and heavens knew it had been done countless times in so may films, the contrast of red on white, blood on snow, a red cloak on a field of falling cherry tree leaves, silly things like that. If only this were a silly little film like that. If only this wasn’t her lover’s life bleeding out on her white gloved hands.

“Okay, all right,” she said aloud, in her mind thinking, I’m not going to start simpering like an idiot in a movie, this is going to require quick, cold, clinical thinking.

“No knife, so there’s no silver poisoning. The cuts deep though …”

Standing in front of her a boy stood grinning wickedly, eating an apple. By moonlight she could tell he was dressed in an outfit out of the 18th century. His other hand held a bloody knife which she chose to ignore for the sake of her temper.

“I have to knit … each … piece of cut tissue.” She stopped, closed her eyes and with her wand started slowly knitting back the severed arteries that were gushing so much blood. Then slowly the organs, and the muscles, and finally his skin.

“Wow, you’re pretty quick with a wand,” the boy said.

Madison opened her eyes.

Before he could even utter Expelliarmus, the wand was out of her hand. But Madison was not one of the wizarding world’s greatest thieves for nothing. Even as the wand flew out of her hand she punched the boy, twisted the knife out of his hand and had his back on the floor and the weapon at his throat.

“Try to cast a spell and I’ll sever more than your quiet little vocal cords.”

The sound of hands clapping caught her attention.

“Don’t bother trying to bargain for your lives with the brat because I don’t much care for him. He’s one of the vampire clan, he’s just here to watch over us. The nerve of those fools to send a mere child to watch over us as if The Wolves of Saint Gilman could not handle such simple little pests as you.” The man was dressed in jeans, a white shirt with ruffles, elegantly casual standing like someone trying to keep a beast caged.

“I’m tired of posturing men,” she said dropping the knife and standing up. “My gloves are ruined.” Madison walked over to where Freddie lay back in human form breathing raggedly but safe. His shirt lay in tatters and his pants were shredded and barely clinging on.

There was a way out of this. There’s always a way. It just had not presented itself to her right now.

AN: The moral of the story, children, is that there is always a solution to any problem, we may not like it but all problems have answers ... we just have to find them. Back soon ... peace out.

11-21-2010, 07:51 AM	#67 (permalink)
OtterySt.Catchpole SS Featured Artist DA Poet Rupert is My Man! SS100 Triumphant Aethonan Join Date: Jul 2004 Location: The Wicked House Posts: 18,910 Hogwarts RPG Name: Ottery St. Catchpole Gryffindor Third Year	Chapter: "Even in the darkness every color can be found ..." Paris & Kellybear r luv :Read Otty 's fics:Gone With the Wind:I♥Rupert RN: I'm still alive and so is this story ... “Even in the darkness Every color can be found And every day of rain Brings water flowing To things growing in the ground Grief replaced with pity For a city barely coping Dreams are easy to achieve If hope is all I’m hoping to be Anytime you’re hurt there’s one Who has it worse around And every drop of rain Will keep you growing Seeds you’re sowing in the ground” ~Penny’s Song from Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along-Blog It seemed so silly, like something some amateur filmmaker would do, it wasn’t anything sophisticated and heavens knew it had been done countless times in so may films, the contrast of red on white, blood on snow, a red cloak on a field of falling cherry tree leaves, silly things like that. If only this were a silly little film like that. If only this wasn’t her lover’s life bleeding out on her white gloved hands. “Okay, all right,” she said aloud, in her mind thinking, I’m not going to start simpering like an idiot in a movie, this is going to require quick, cold, clinical thinking. “No knife, so there’s no silver poisoning. The cuts deep though …” Standing in front of her a boy stood grinning wickedly, eating an apple. By moonlight she could tell he was dressed in an outfit out of the 18th century. His other hand held a bloody knife which she chose to ignore for the sake of her temper. “I have to knit … each … piece of cut tissue.” She stopped, closed her eyes and with her wand started slowly knitting back the severed arteries that were gushing so much blood. Then slowly the organs, and the muscles, and finally his skin. “Wow, you’re pretty quick with a wand,” the boy said. Madison opened her eyes. Before he could even utter Expelliarmus, the wand was out of her hand. But Madison was not one of the wizarding world’s greatest thieves for nothing. Even as the wand flew out of her hand she punched the boy, twisted the knife out of his hand and had his back on the floor and the weapon at his throat. “Try to cast a spell and I’ll sever more than your quiet little vocal cords.” The sound of hands clapping caught her attention. “Don’t bother trying to bargain for your lives with the brat because I don’t much care for him. He’s one of the vampire clan, he’s just here to watch over us. The nerve of those fools to send a mere child to watch over us as if The Wolves of Saint Gilman could not handle such simple little pests as you.” The man was dressed in jeans, a white shirt with ruffles, elegantly casual standing like someone trying to keep a beast caged. “I’m tired of posturing men,” she said dropping the knife and standing up. “My gloves are ruined.” Madison walked over to where Freddie lay back in human form breathing raggedly but safe. His shirt lay in tatters and his pants were shredded and barely clinging on. There was a way out of this. There’s always a way. It just had not presented itself to her right now. AN: The moral of the story, children, is that there is always a solution to any problem, we may not like it but all problems have answers ... we just have to find them. Back soon ... peace out. __________________