InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Yes, you are!"

i_mature (i_mature) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2008-01-27 15:52:00

Entry tags:

brigitte fitzgerald, cursed treasures, dexter morgan, zz:status complete

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? [Dexter]
Brigitte remembered the stunningly beautiful face of the blonde vampire girl. The werewolf remembered her strange scent without the ability to make sense of it. It had been a long stand off and then there had been nothing.

Brigitte couldn't remember the last time she saw the light of the sun or stars or how long she'd been out. Just that she'd opened her eyes, sitting on the same park bench, surrounded by an island of grass. Outside that island had been nothingness and she'd been afraid to move, able to make out tiny islands of the shattered city displaced in black space.

Eventually The City slowly began to piece itself together, albeit with noticeably black holes where a shop had once been or where someone's house was built. Brigitte didn't move from her bench. She shivered. She was scared and hungry. Brigitte was scared of her hunger.

And so she didn't move.

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

i_mature
2008-01-27 11:01 pm UTC (link)

Brigitte tensed, catching his scent from a single draft. She pulled her knees toward her chest, resting her feet on the edge of the bench. She pulled the hood of her oversized coat over her head.

There was something off about the scent. Brigitte began to suspect that there would be something off about everyone's scent. That her nose, which had grown long into a hideous misshaped thing, would raise alarm when it came to every new scent it crossed.

Brigitte remained very, very still.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_fakeit
2008-01-27 11:05 pm UTC (link)

He could feel her tense up. Could feel her fear. Maybe he could even smell it, as much like the dark passenger he'd become. But he wouldn't bet on that. Not just yet.

One more scan of the park told him that there wasn't anybody around, not for miles. They were probably all in their homes, afraid, or still missing.

Dexter was behind her in an instant, his arm around her throat, though not with quite enough leverage to cut off her air completely. He'd have needed his other hand for that, and that hand was occupied with the knife.

He said nothing. Made no demands, offered no warning or way of escape. He had no intent on letting her live.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_mature
2008-01-27 11:20 pm UTC (link)

The sound she made was not human. It sounded like a shout. Or a growl. It was terrible and loud, enough to startle the brave and terrify the weak.

Dexter's hand required the use of a knife. Brigitte's finger tips were made of knives. And though she knew she could not go on like this, that she did not want to live as a monster, her gut reaction was claw first and ask questions later. Her hand came up and raked the face of her attacker from behind.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	i_fakeit 2008-01-27 11:25 pm UTC (link)
	The pain erupted in his skin, but his determination to kill was too great to let her go. He wanted her death more than he cared for his safety. Dexter pulled up with all his weight, dragging her over the back of the bench she was sitting on. No sound of effort came from him. No sound at all. When he was clear of the bench, he let her fall to the ground. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_mature
2008-01-28 06:12 am UTC (link)

She'd always been small, but the way he threw her weight around effortlessly surprised her. As she fell, the hood from her coat fell back to reveal the developing terror of her face.

"What do you want?"

It was harder to speak than she remembered. Her teeth felt long and pointy. Her skin had a raw and unpleasant texture to it. Her breathing intensified. She felt an adrenaline rush urging her to attack and managed to only vaguely recognize and ignore it.

Her hand was poised, fingers stretched, to defend herself.

She growled.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_fakeit
2008-01-29 01:27 am UTC (link)

He hardly registered what she looked like. The absurdity of her features. The distortion there. The only thing he focused on were her eyes. And his desire to remove the life spark from them.

A nasty grin crossed his features then.

"Nothing much." His voice was low, a cold, reptilian quality to it. "Just your life."

The knife was pushed to her throat, but he didn't pull it across her flesh just yet, there was a morbid desire to hear what she had to say.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_mature
2008-01-30 06:10 pm UTC (link)

Brigitte tensed. Her eyes were brown and large, staring widely at him. His motivations mattered less to her than what he offered. She opened her mouth slowly, the corners of her lips barring fangs briefly before she finally replied.

"Okay."

She relaxed. Her chin lifted up just a little higher. Her eyes squeezed tight. She swallowed. The entire process took ages. Brigitte began to shiver.

"I don't want to be a monster anymore," she spoke barely above a whisper.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_fakeit
2008-01-31 03:28 am UTC (link)

He didn't need her permission, he hadn't needed her consent. Something about that tugged at something very deep in him. But it didn't have time to raise itself to the surface before his immediate needs took over and the grip tightened on the knife.

"Nice to know."

Dexter didn't know if maybe it had been some trick. Reverse psychology. He really didn't particularly care. She was going to die anyway.

With one motion, the knife opened a deep red line in the girl's neck. So quickly that the blade itself remained clean while the blood poured out.

He would wait and watch while she died. To make sure she did. To savor the death.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_mature
2008-01-31 05:30 pm UTC (link)

It hurt more than she could have braced for. She struggled, thrashing occasionally like a fish on land, trying to breathe with the new gills he had created.

It was scarier now than it was before she gave her permission. Where would she go after this? Her mouth opened, trying to speak. It repeated one word over and over.

In the werewolf's mind, Ginger sat on her knees, directly beside her sister. She leaned forward resting against Brigitte, her hand over Brigitte's heart to calm her. Brigitte did calm.

The flow of blood slowed down. Sooner than it should, but not soon enough that Brigitte would live. The death took longer than it should as her body tried to repair itself. Finally, she died. Brigitte's eyes remained open, her face remained a twisted version of what it once was.

(Reply to this) (Parent)

(Read comments) -