11-18-2013, 08:33 PM
Hands gripped his hair until prickles of pain stabbed at his scalp. He squeezed his eyes tight and clung to her warmth, but it was as a corpse clawing at the bodies of the living, dreading what was to come. She kept saying his name, over and over again, as though saying it out loud made the realism all the more solid. "I'm so sorry" burned the back of his throat with bile. His legs wobbled as though he might drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. Not until Jessika's palms cupped his cheeks and pushed her sparkling sapphires before his own, did he finally move. He licked his lips, but uttered none of the things he dreamed of saying should this day ever come.
A sudden slap of pain exploded on his face. His neck twisted with the force. His vision watered. And he gently touched fingertips to a flamed jaw, blinking with shock.
Jessika slapped him.
His brows drew low, and his hands fell to his sides. Indeed there was a small suitcase left on the sidewalk, so he grabbed it and turned to lead the way inside. They should wait indoors while he called another cab. The street wasn't safe. That first group wasn't the only gang walking around here.
From the first step, he turned back. Jessika had her fists planted on her hips, staring accusation wounded by his lack of reaction. For a second, Jensen only looked at her. She was the same willow of a woman, elegant and lean. From her crown fell a cascade of golden curls teased thick and heavy. She wore a white pant suit. A lacy pink top crossed the line beneath the jacket. High heels had planted her face snug in his neck when he remembered cradling her cheek against his chest when they were both barefeet. He realized all the more how much he loved her.
But he wasn't in love with her.
He spoke firmly, but gently. "We should get off the stree--"
but pops of loud gunfire jerked his breath from his lungs. A wailing screech tore through the night, cawing chills through his bones.
The street was emptied, but both he and Jessika turned toward the direction it came. Fear shallowed his breathing to quick, panicked breaths. That screech was otherworldly, and images of black beasts hovering through basement walls clung to his ribs like pulled meat. "Jessika!"
He called to her, but she was transfixed. He hopped down the steps to grab her by the arm and literally pull her inside, but before they made it back to the door, more pops of gunfire erupted followed by the sprinting body of the gang kid that lived in the building with his 'parents.' He fell out of the alley and ran straight for them, unseeing of any obstacle, intent on escape.
Jensen pulled Jessika out of the madman's way, but he clipped her shoulder as hurled by. Jensen scrambled to keep her from breaking an ankle in the fall, but by the time he had her gathered in his arms, the building door was slammed shut.
Jessika gasped at herself, and started patting at her ruined white suit. Jensen let her go and turned this way and that, trying to control the urgency to run or flee ... something. But Jessika's shocked gasp won his full attention.
Then he saw the blood. All over her shoulder, from where the boy had knocked into her.
He ignored her protests and made sure that she was okay, then literally pushed her up the stairs to the door and shoved her suitcase in her hands. "Go inside!"
And he turned.
"Where are YOU going?!"
She demanded, disbelieving.
"Those were children over there! I have to make sure they're alright."
Five boys went down an alley, gunshots, and only one ran out? The other side was blocked by a drainage canal. Unless they were rainwater, they weren't going to escape through iron grates.
Jensen's gaze steeled Jessika to stay put, and he took off sprinting toward what was sure to be a horrific scene.
It was dark in the alley. Darker than it should have been. The street light overhead had died last weekend and was yet to be replaced. He thought about sending the orb forth to light his way, but his eyes adjusted, and the shadow of shapes took form.
Silence, but for some sort of suction sound, until his quickened footfalls struck like drums. "Everybody alright?"
He came upon someone curled over a lump on the ground. Was that the... old woman? He reached out for her shoulder...
A cold hand clamped down on his wrist. A mane of silvery hair whipped around a skull barely covered by a thin sheet of skin, and the eyes.. they burned sick and yellow, glowing from within. Jensen wrenched his arm free and nearly fell over backward. Blood glistened her mouth wet. His back slammed to the ground, and she leaped atop him.
The light. The orb of light burst between his hands and he chucked it at her chest. The strike flung her back, her face contorted with pain. She hissed, and with a great leap, sprang straight up. The whip of long wings fanned Jensen's cold sweat to a stinging chill.
Panting, he scrambled to his hands and knees. The pull of his powers heightened everything, and he saw true aftermath. Three bodies drained flat. A fourth clutching at his neck, gurgling.
He flew to the boy's side, and pressed his hands to the warm shreds that remained of his throat.
"It's okay. It's okay."
He kept saying, over and over again, but the boy struggled and cried. Red bubbled from his mouth and nose. Choking. Dying. The wide eyes of a child begged for help.
Jensen bowed his head as though to pray, but there wasn't room in his head for words: only the gift. His heart beat in the rhythm of the universe itself. It was peace and torment unlike a conflict he'd never known before. He was on his own with the child, if it didn't save him, nothing could.
He willed it to work. Willed his body to hold on long enough to finish, else be ripped apart.
Finally, it was done. His shoulders slumped, and when he opened his eyes, he beheld the impossible. The boy rolled over, spit out the blood in his mouth, and sat upright without a scar on his flesh.
The kid sprang to his feet, and Jensen aimed to follow, but he slammed the toe of his boot to Jensen's temple, and ran like a bat out of hell.
A sudden slap of pain exploded on his face. His neck twisted with the force. His vision watered. And he gently touched fingertips to a flamed jaw, blinking with shock.
Jessika slapped him.
His brows drew low, and his hands fell to his sides. Indeed there was a small suitcase left on the sidewalk, so he grabbed it and turned to lead the way inside. They should wait indoors while he called another cab. The street wasn't safe. That first group wasn't the only gang walking around here.
From the first step, he turned back. Jessika had her fists planted on her hips, staring accusation wounded by his lack of reaction. For a second, Jensen only looked at her. She was the same willow of a woman, elegant and lean. From her crown fell a cascade of golden curls teased thick and heavy. She wore a white pant suit. A lacy pink top crossed the line beneath the jacket. High heels had planted her face snug in his neck when he remembered cradling her cheek against his chest when they were both barefeet. He realized all the more how much he loved her.
But he wasn't in love with her.
He spoke firmly, but gently. "We should get off the stree--"
but pops of loud gunfire jerked his breath from his lungs. A wailing screech tore through the night, cawing chills through his bones.
The street was emptied, but both he and Jessika turned toward the direction it came. Fear shallowed his breathing to quick, panicked breaths. That screech was otherworldly, and images of black beasts hovering through basement walls clung to his ribs like pulled meat. "Jessika!"
He called to her, but she was transfixed. He hopped down the steps to grab her by the arm and literally pull her inside, but before they made it back to the door, more pops of gunfire erupted followed by the sprinting body of the gang kid that lived in the building with his 'parents.' He fell out of the alley and ran straight for them, unseeing of any obstacle, intent on escape.
Jensen pulled Jessika out of the madman's way, but he clipped her shoulder as hurled by. Jensen scrambled to keep her from breaking an ankle in the fall, but by the time he had her gathered in his arms, the building door was slammed shut.
Jessika gasped at herself, and started patting at her ruined white suit. Jensen let her go and turned this way and that, trying to control the urgency to run or flee ... something. But Jessika's shocked gasp won his full attention.
Then he saw the blood. All over her shoulder, from where the boy had knocked into her.
He ignored her protests and made sure that she was okay, then literally pushed her up the stairs to the door and shoved her suitcase in her hands. "Go inside!"
And he turned.
"Where are YOU going?!"
She demanded, disbelieving.
"Those were children over there! I have to make sure they're alright."
Five boys went down an alley, gunshots, and only one ran out? The other side was blocked by a drainage canal. Unless they were rainwater, they weren't going to escape through iron grates.
Jensen's gaze steeled Jessika to stay put, and he took off sprinting toward what was sure to be a horrific scene.
It was dark in the alley. Darker than it should have been. The street light overhead had died last weekend and was yet to be replaced. He thought about sending the orb forth to light his way, but his eyes adjusted, and the shadow of shapes took form.
Silence, but for some sort of suction sound, until his quickened footfalls struck like drums. "Everybody alright?"
He came upon someone curled over a lump on the ground. Was that the... old woman? He reached out for her shoulder...
A cold hand clamped down on his wrist. A mane of silvery hair whipped around a skull barely covered by a thin sheet of skin, and the eyes.. they burned sick and yellow, glowing from within. Jensen wrenched his arm free and nearly fell over backward. Blood glistened her mouth wet. His back slammed to the ground, and she leaped atop him.
The light. The orb of light burst between his hands and he chucked it at her chest. The strike flung her back, her face contorted with pain. She hissed, and with a great leap, sprang straight up. The whip of long wings fanned Jensen's cold sweat to a stinging chill.
Panting, he scrambled to his hands and knees. The pull of his powers heightened everything, and he saw true aftermath. Three bodies drained flat. A fourth clutching at his neck, gurgling.
He flew to the boy's side, and pressed his hands to the warm shreds that remained of his throat.
"It's okay. It's okay."
He kept saying, over and over again, but the boy struggled and cried. Red bubbled from his mouth and nose. Choking. Dying. The wide eyes of a child begged for help.
Jensen bowed his head as though to pray, but there wasn't room in his head for words: only the gift. His heart beat in the rhythm of the universe itself. It was peace and torment unlike a conflict he'd never known before. He was on his own with the child, if it didn't save him, nothing could.
He willed it to work. Willed his body to hold on long enough to finish, else be ripped apart.
Finally, it was done. His shoulders slumped, and when he opened his eyes, he beheld the impossible. The boy rolled over, spit out the blood in his mouth, and sat upright without a scar on his flesh.
The kid sprang to his feet, and Jensen aimed to follow, but he slammed the toe of his boot to Jensen's temple, and ran like a bat out of hell.