InsaneJournal

Darkness Bound by Vanillafluffy (R)
Fandom: Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Type: Fanfic
Title: Darkness Bound
Author: Vanillafluffy
Pairing: none
Warnings/Rating: R for pain
Where to find more by this author: Vanillafluffy at fanfiction.net
Link: Darkness Bound
Why should people click?

This story has the most realistic portrayal I've read of Sands dealing medically (and painfully) with his own wounds. It's all from his POV, so we get a lovely glimpse into our beautiful psychotic's twisted mind. Vanillafluffy's writing is always fresh and creative.

It's almost a fandom cliche, now, to start OUaTiM stories from the end of the movie where the wounded Sands is propped against a wall in the streets of Culiacan. It's rare though that an author can believably pull off Sands caring for himself, considering what bad shape the movie left him in. In Darkness Bound, Sands gets a little help from the kid, but most of his medical problems, including pain and infection, he deals with alone. Then, Vanillafluffy introduces RC, a mysterious colleague of Sands's, who helps him get revenge on the remains of the Barillo cartel, and offers him an independent position outside the CIA. This sets up the situation for others of Vanillafluffy's exciting stories. The sequel to this one is Clockwork Mexico followed by Taking Care of Business.


I have no eyes. The thought echoed through his skull. Blind was a bland word to convey the emptiness he felt. Eternal darkness. Endless night. No sunrise, sunset, no stars, no heavenly bodies. No bulbs, fluorescent or incandescent, neon or LEDs. No lamps, not Tiffany or lava, or Waterford chandeliers. No more headlights, taillights, turn signals, traffic lights or blue light specials. If he could limp into the Cathedral and light a candle, he would not see its glow.

"I'm getting maudlin," he told himself. Was there a bright side he could look on? (In a matter of speaking?) He could cancel his magazine subscriptions--he'd save a couple hundred bucks a year on porn alone--damn, no more Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. No more centerfolds. He'd have to cough up for lap dances at titty bars instead of drinking and staring. At the thought of a woman's reaction to his eyeless condition, his heart sank. Damn, it was really going to suck if his last piece of ass had been that cartel whore who'd scorned and maimed him.

Well, at least he'd had the last word. He was still among the living, and he intended to stay that way. Okay, things were going to be--different. He could still live by his wits.