[googlefont=Syne Mono][googlefont=Noto Serif][div style="font-family:'Syne Mono', monospace;background-color:#d9d6d0;color:#14110b;margin:auto;padding:25px;max-width:600px;font-size:14px"]The Huntress ~ IV
The hounds were desire; their fangs snarling ambition, their eyes the fervent willpower oft sought by those they tear apart. They were ash and the flesh that bore it. Soot. Tar. Shadows. And, worst of all, they were quick.
Colette didn’t know how far she had managed to run, only how long she had spent running. Every step shot a sharp reminder up her fibia; her own dwindling fate-clock, tick-tick-ticking with the click of the fracture. She wasn’t sure which would give way first- her body, or the daylight. There wasn’t enough left of either.[/div]
[div style="font-family:noto serif, serif;padding:25px;background-color:#0A090C;color:#D1C6AD;font-size:13px"][div style="max-width:900px;margin:auto"]He seemed impressed by the way you came in- tell us a story, I know you're not boring. I was afraid that you would not insist- you sound so sleepy, just take this, now leave me. I said, ple-
“-aaase don’t slow me down, if we’re going toooo faaaast- you’re in a straaaaange part of our town. Ba-ba, ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba…”
Wait, didn’t they record these trucks now? Shit, he better keep his mouth shut. Can’t have the bastards in corporate hearing him enjoy himself on the job, they’ll probably take it out of his wages. Or tear him a new one when he gets back. He could just hear it now- “Hey, Dale, you ever considered American Idol, huh? You fucking piece of shit?”.
Assholes. The lot of ‘em. What did it matter that he had a little fun on the journey- wasn’t it the destination that mattered? He already had their stupid package, and he already had their stupid proprietary in-house navigation system- him singing a little wouldn’t drown out that shrill bitch inside the monitor, anyway, He scowled at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, practicing his best look of joylessness- hat tilted down over his eyes, nose wrinkled in vague disgust, mouth pulled into a frown so exaggerated, it- fuck, it made him laugh. He flipped off the dashcam for good measure. Then, he turned his focus to the radio.
----re changing lanes, you ran me off the road. The wait is over, I'm now taking over- you're no longer laughing, I'm not dr----
----ld you believe it? There he was, right where he told me he wouldn’t be caught dea----
----ext is a new song by… I can’t read this shit on air, man, they’ll tear me apar----
----cloudy, with highs of 98 and low----
----Addaway has been cast in the upcoming television adaptation of Valentine, the supernatura----
He really should’ve bought that bluetooth player when he had the chance. This was dire. Irony of fucking ironies- his attention was now actually, properly torn from the road, focused entirely on twiddling with the dial until something–anything–caught his ear.
----ssibly a record-breakin----
----pretty bare-bone----
----w how I even surviv----
----ple are warned----
----th----
[font size="4"]----SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!![/font]
----
It took Dale a moment to compose himself, and a moment longer to realise what had happened. Thank god for driver’s intuition- it was like he had been jolted awake in the ditch, completely unaware of whoever had steered the truck off the road in the first place, let alone the reason why that might have happened. No… no, it was him. He was the only one in the vehicle, and the vehicle was shit- corporate may have had the budget for a spy-cam, but auto-steer? Please. Fucking please. He’d be out of a job, if that were the case.
He flicked on the hazards- the first act he was conscious of making, intuitive though it was.
“Fuck.”
What… what was that? Some weird fucking animal; long limbs, black fur. Was it a deer? Seemed about the right height for one, from what little he saw–about fifty inches, ear-to-hoof–but… I dunno, its posture was wrong. Hunched over and tense, like it was preparing to either attack or scream out in horrible pain. Yeah, that was it. It looked like it was in pain. Had someone else hit it? Fucking stupid pests, they were- he wouldn’t be surprised if the last truck that passed through fucking clipped its horn, or something, but- wait, did it even have horns?
He peered over the steering wheel, craning his neck to get a better view of the road. Empty- completely fucking empty. Dark, too, but that was probably from the canopy of trees overhead. His headlights were off, that was probably why he swerved so hard. Can’t be too careful on a road like this, eh? Dale allowed himself to laugh, and forced himself to relax. He’d know for next time- lights on, in a tree-tunnel like this. His fucking life was worth more than the extra drain on the gas that keeping them lit would cause. He reached down the side of the wheel and flicked the lights on- but nothing happened.
“Fuck!”
That fucking- that fucking deer had kicked his goddamn lights out! That must’ve been it- god, if only he actually had hit the fucker, then maybe seeing its gore spread thin across the tarmac would’ve provided some fucking catharsis- okay, Dale, calm down- calm the fuck down. He sighed heavily, unlocking the door with his spare hand and clambering out of the truck to assess the damage.
Right. Uh-huh. Well, the lights seemed fine, aside from the dimness. Turns out, they had actually turned on, but the output was so piss-poor, he had hardly noticed. Well, thank fuck it was just trees he was driving through, and not an actual tunnel, then. Or, actually- thank fuck it was 3pm, and not, like, basically any other time out here. He’d be a dead man if he-
Snap.
That… wasn’t a deer.
Dale could only hope that his realisation hadn’t come too late.
“Alright- easy, now…” He muttered to himself, “I’m just gonna… just gonna get back in my truck, okay?”
You weren’t meant to look these things in the eye, were you? Like- that goes for any wild animal, right? Including this? It was hard to look anywhere else- and harder still to actually find the damn thing you weren’t meant to be looking at. All he saw were eyes, staring at him pinpoint through the doom-shaped shadows. It was impossible to tell where the creature started and ended, blending almost seamlessly into its surroundings. He backed away as slowly and as carefully as he could.
But, every step he made, it made one as well. One. Two. Three. Getting closer and silently closer with every passing moment, like the spectre of death itself. His gun was in the truck. Why did he leave his gun in the truck? Dale cursed under his breath, slowly raising his arms, as if the gesture of surrender could be comprehended by this creature. As if the concept of surrender could.
Then, without warning, it leapt; howling like a dying child, its voice ripping through his ears as deeply and as painfully as its claws ripped through his skin. He stumbled back, expecting the cold embrace of tarmac to at least put some distance between them, but instead found himself impaled on another set of claws. And another. And another. If he had the faculties to count, he would’ve lost it by now- there were too many of these things. But… there was just one, right? Two, at a stretch- three, maybe? Nothing more. There couldn’t have been any more.
Their teeth came next, now that their prey had been immobilised; tearing chunks of flesh from bone like he was already cooked, already prepared for consumption. They found no resistance when they met his skin. Impossibly sharp, impossbly numerous, impossibly- god, impossibly fucking painful.
Dale opened his mouth to scream, but all he managed to bring up was chunks of gore.[/div][/div]
[div style="font-family:'Syne Mono', monospace;background-color:#d9d6d0;color:#14110b;margin:auto;padding:25px;max-width:600px;font-size:14px"]The Huntress ~ IV
She saw, at last, a figure upon the horizon; a shadow, darker than even that of the hounds, looming over the hill up in the middle-distance. Through her blood-blurred eyes, she tried to stare her down, raising a torn limb to beckon, but there wasnt't much point. The figure was approaching regardless- and the steady pace at which she made said approach was all the proof she needed that this woman was not here to help her.
"Heel.", said the stranger.
And she said nothing more.[/div]
[div style="font-family:noto serif, serif;padding:25px;background-color:#0A090C;color:#D1C6AD;font-size:13px"][div style="max-width:900px;margin:auto"]A woman stepped into the parking garage that masked L-14, and the lights on that level started to dim. She wandered for a moment, the mundane expanse of concrete stretching out labrynthine before her.
Then, she whistled.
And an intern showed up dead.[/div]
The hounds were desire; their fangs snarling ambition, their eyes the fervent willpower oft sought by those they tear apart. They were ash and the flesh that bore it. Soot. Tar. Shadows. And, worst of all, they were quick.
Colette didn’t know how far she had managed to run, only how long she had spent running. Every step shot a sharp reminder up her fibia; her own dwindling fate-clock, tick-tick-ticking with the click of the fracture. She wasn’t sure which would give way first- her body, or the daylight. There wasn’t enough left of either.[/div]
[div style="font-family:noto serif, serif;padding:25px;background-color:#0A090C;color:#D1C6AD;font-size:13px"][div style="max-width:900px;margin:auto"]He seemed impressed by the way you came in- tell us a story, I know you're not boring. I was afraid that you would not insist- you sound so sleepy, just take this, now leave me. I said, ple-
“-aaase don’t slow me down, if we’re going toooo faaaast- you’re in a straaaaange part of our town. Ba-ba, ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba…”
Wait, didn’t they record these trucks now? Shit, he better keep his mouth shut. Can’t have the bastards in corporate hearing him enjoy himself on the job, they’ll probably take it out of his wages. Or tear him a new one when he gets back. He could just hear it now- “Hey, Dale, you ever considered American Idol, huh? You fucking piece of shit?”.
Assholes. The lot of ‘em. What did it matter that he had a little fun on the journey- wasn’t it the destination that mattered? He already had their stupid package, and he already had their stupid proprietary in-house navigation system- him singing a little wouldn’t drown out that shrill bitch inside the monitor, anyway, He scowled at his reflection in the rear-view mirror, practicing his best look of joylessness- hat tilted down over his eyes, nose wrinkled in vague disgust, mouth pulled into a frown so exaggerated, it- fuck, it made him laugh. He flipped off the dashcam for good measure. Then, he turned his focus to the radio.
----re changing lanes, you ran me off the road. The wait is over, I'm now taking over- you're no longer laughing, I'm not dr----
----ld you believe it? There he was, right where he told me he wouldn’t be caught dea----
----ext is a new song by… I can’t read this shit on air, man, they’ll tear me apar----
----cloudy, with highs of 98 and low----
----Addaway has been cast in the upcoming television adaptation of Valentine, the supernatura----
He really should’ve bought that bluetooth player when he had the chance. This was dire. Irony of fucking ironies- his attention was now actually, properly torn from the road, focused entirely on twiddling with the dial until something–anything–caught his ear.
----ssibly a record-breakin----
----pretty bare-bone----
----w how I even surviv----
----ple are warned----
----th----
[font size="4"]----SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!![/font]
----
It took Dale a moment to compose himself, and a moment longer to realise what had happened. Thank god for driver’s intuition- it was like he had been jolted awake in the ditch, completely unaware of whoever had steered the truck off the road in the first place, let alone the reason why that might have happened. No… no, it was him. He was the only one in the vehicle, and the vehicle was shit- corporate may have had the budget for a spy-cam, but auto-steer? Please. Fucking please. He’d be out of a job, if that were the case.
He flicked on the hazards- the first act he was conscious of making, intuitive though it was.
“Fuck.”
What… what was that? Some weird fucking animal; long limbs, black fur. Was it a deer? Seemed about the right height for one, from what little he saw–about fifty inches, ear-to-hoof–but… I dunno, its posture was wrong. Hunched over and tense, like it was preparing to either attack or scream out in horrible pain. Yeah, that was it. It looked like it was in pain. Had someone else hit it? Fucking stupid pests, they were- he wouldn’t be surprised if the last truck that passed through fucking clipped its horn, or something, but- wait, did it even have horns?
He peered over the steering wheel, craning his neck to get a better view of the road. Empty- completely fucking empty. Dark, too, but that was probably from the canopy of trees overhead. His headlights were off, that was probably why he swerved so hard. Can’t be too careful on a road like this, eh? Dale allowed himself to laugh, and forced himself to relax. He’d know for next time- lights on, in a tree-tunnel like this. His fucking life was worth more than the extra drain on the gas that keeping them lit would cause. He reached down the side of the wheel and flicked the lights on- but nothing happened.
“Fuck!”
That fucking- that fucking deer had kicked his goddamn lights out! That must’ve been it- god, if only he actually had hit the fucker, then maybe seeing its gore spread thin across the tarmac would’ve provided some fucking catharsis- okay, Dale, calm down- calm the fuck down. He sighed heavily, unlocking the door with his spare hand and clambering out of the truck to assess the damage.
Right. Uh-huh. Well, the lights seemed fine, aside from the dimness. Turns out, they had actually turned on, but the output was so piss-poor, he had hardly noticed. Well, thank fuck it was just trees he was driving through, and not an actual tunnel, then. Or, actually- thank fuck it was 3pm, and not, like, basically any other time out here. He’d be a dead man if he-
Snap.
That… wasn’t a deer.
Dale could only hope that his realisation hadn’t come too late.
“Alright- easy, now…” He muttered to himself, “I’m just gonna… just gonna get back in my truck, okay?”
You weren’t meant to look these things in the eye, were you? Like- that goes for any wild animal, right? Including this? It was hard to look anywhere else- and harder still to actually find the damn thing you weren’t meant to be looking at. All he saw were eyes, staring at him pinpoint through the doom-shaped shadows. It was impossible to tell where the creature started and ended, blending almost seamlessly into its surroundings. He backed away as slowly and as carefully as he could.
But, every step he made, it made one as well. One. Two. Three. Getting closer and silently closer with every passing moment, like the spectre of death itself. His gun was in the truck. Why did he leave his gun in the truck? Dale cursed under his breath, slowly raising his arms, as if the gesture of surrender could be comprehended by this creature. As if the concept of surrender could.
Then, without warning, it leapt; howling like a dying child, its voice ripping through his ears as deeply and as painfully as its claws ripped through his skin. He stumbled back, expecting the cold embrace of tarmac to at least put some distance between them, but instead found himself impaled on another set of claws. And another. And another. If he had the faculties to count, he would’ve lost it by now- there were too many of these things. But… there was just one, right? Two, at a stretch- three, maybe? Nothing more. There couldn’t have been any more.
Their teeth came next, now that their prey had been immobilised; tearing chunks of flesh from bone like he was already cooked, already prepared for consumption. They found no resistance when they met his skin. Impossibly sharp, impossbly numerous, impossibly- god, impossibly fucking painful.
Dale opened his mouth to scream, but all he managed to bring up was chunks of gore.[/div][/div]
[div style="font-family:'Syne Mono', monospace;background-color:#d9d6d0;color:#14110b;margin:auto;padding:25px;max-width:600px;font-size:14px"]The Huntress ~ IV
She saw, at last, a figure upon the horizon; a shadow, darker than even that of the hounds, looming over the hill up in the middle-distance. Through her blood-blurred eyes, she tried to stare her down, raising a torn limb to beckon, but there wasnt't much point. The figure was approaching regardless- and the steady pace at which she made said approach was all the proof she needed that this woman was not here to help her.
"Heel.", said the stranger.
And she said nothing more.[/div]
[div style="font-family:noto serif, serif;padding:25px;background-color:#0A090C;color:#D1C6AD;font-size:13px"][div style="max-width:900px;margin:auto"]A woman stepped into the parking garage that masked L-14, and the lights on that level started to dim. She wandered for a moment, the mundane expanse of concrete stretching out labrynthine before her.
Then, she whistled.
And an intern showed up dead.[/div]
