thethirdsnake (thethirdsnake) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-05-25 20:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | solidus snake |
Who: Solidus
Where: Streets of L.A.
What: Battling, contemplating.
Rating: PG-13
Status: Narrative, complete.
Solidus slashed furiously through the vampires, chopping off their limbs before decapitating them and blasting them with missiles. He fought savagely against the vampires, showing them no mercy as he obliterated them without a flicker of remorse. Things weren't quite as they seemed, however. Despite the brutality involved, he wasn't the feeling the thrill of battle that he once was. It had become a habit now. So much that he was starting to get a reputation among the vampires as a bloodthirsty killer, even more formidable than the Slayers. Not necessarily stronger; an ancient tradition and supernatural strength and senses couldn't be beaten. Rather, more determined. The Slayers would kill a few vampires a night and then call it quits. Solidus wouldn't stop. He would target them everywhere, blowing them to pieces without a flicker of remorse. He would use the weapons and to set traps for them, not caring whether he was injured in the process. He cared nothing for his own life, had no sense of self-preservation, and that made him more dangerous than the average hunter. Which made them more determined to kill him. They had heard about his defeat from one of the elder vampires, a vampire from another world who they thought was a louse with nothing but arrogance and wind to power him. Apparently, the guy had actual power, and the battle had rivaled anything from this world until the vampire had finally put down his rival. Emboldened by the vampire's defeat of him, they sought to wipe out the man who was slowly decimating their numbers.
Alas, that very same battle stirred Solidus into a burning rage.
He was still burning over his defeat at LaCroix's hands. It pained him deeply, the way that refined effeminate bastard was able to defeat him. And so he took it out on these vampires. He had become even more brutal in his treatment of them recently, dismembering them before killing them, setting them on fire, and destroying the environments they thrived in utterly. He was lucky he hadn't been sought after for arson yet, because he had burned doen quite a few places recently.
With a brutal slash of fury, Solidus put down the last of the vampires. There. Now the coast was cleared.
He supposed he should be wary of what he was doing. Eventually someone would notice. Killing a few vampires was one thing. Killing and killing without stopping was another. He even killed demons, at least the ones that proved themselves worthy of his scorn. He wasn't like certain other people in this city, bordering on psychosis while playing the hero. No, those were absolute monsters, and they would get what was coming to them once people realized what they were. He simply did what was natural to him. And their numbers were dwindling. Perhaps in other parts of the city, they were still strong, but in this little corner of the city, he could tell they were becoming a scarcer presence than they would have liked. He knew there was an infinite amount of them in the world, but L.A. was not the world, and it was inevitable that he would wipe out the last of these undead bastards in this little corner he chose to call home.
Which meant he was once again outlasting his purpose.
He had kept to himself for the past couple weeks, staying silent, ignoring the board. He suspected that was the best way to be in this city. Keep to yourself and your own business, and no one will bother you. He suspected there were others doing the same thing. It was during this period that he had come to a conclusion some time ago.
He wanted to go home. It was a pitiful thought, and one he never thought he'd have. Being here, among the inhabitants of this city, it made him realize something. There was no escaping from his destiny. He was a killing machine created by the Patriots. And the only way to redeem himself from that was to face that past head on.
He supposed he should be proud of his accomplishments here. He had killed some vampires, helped save the city along with some other warriors, and held his own against a 2,000 year old vampire who was once a Roman general. No matter what they accomplished, no other Snake could say that, and not even Big Boss could top it.
A blinking light caught his eye. His suit was running out of power. He had been using it more frequently recently. So much so, it was starting to short circuit. This was only a prototype. It wasn't meant to be be used this often.
He put away his swords and walked away, determined to find some solution to the problem of his situation. Whether it involved more vampires or not, he was getting tired of this. He almost hoped that someone noticed his little massacre of the vampire population, so that the Powers That Be would have to send him back if they wanted to spare his life. It would be the best thing that could happen to him at this point.