holiday_pirner (
holiday_pirner) wrote in
birthright_rpg2013-09-23 11:54 pm
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What They Appear
She had woken up late, still a little fuzzy headed from the night before. Her first task upon waking was to down a bottle of water, then flop in front of the television and try not to revisit previous events.
After a good amount of vegetating, Holly had made herself some dinner. The brunette was too lazy to change out of her pajamas, so she just pretended she had the confidence to make fuzzy bunnies fashionable. She lugged the full bag of garbage down three flights of stairs and out back.
"Shit, where do they keep the bins?"
This was her first time throwing out trash in her new apartment, and it was hard to orientate herself in the pitch darkness. She grabbed her lighter, flicking it to illuminate her way. It wasn't until after the black bag had been discarded when she heard the noise.
The scuffing of shoes against concrete as they neared her. Holly whirled around.
After a good amount of vegetating, Holly had made herself some dinner. The brunette was too lazy to change out of her pajamas, so she just pretended she had the confidence to make fuzzy bunnies fashionable. She lugged the full bag of garbage down three flights of stairs and out back.
"Shit, where do they keep the bins?"
This was her first time throwing out trash in her new apartment, and it was hard to orientate herself in the pitch darkness. She grabbed her lighter, flicking it to illuminate her way. It wasn't until after the black bag had been discarded when she heard the noise.
The scuffing of shoes against concrete as they neared her. Holly whirled around.
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"Hey, little girl."
His name was Max, and he'd been undead for three years. He'd never quite lost his babyface as an adult, and his eyes were a cold blue. The eyes of a serial killer. One pale hand snaked out, grabbed the mortal by her pajama top. His old sneakers made scuffing sounds on the concrete as he dragged her further into the alley, past the dumpster and more out of reach of the light from the sidewalk. His forehead was already ridged, his fangs out.
"Max is hungry..."
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He didn't take offense at her querulous tone. The smell of burning vampire had faded. It wasn't within the parameters of his mission to accompany her inside, and so he didn't ask. He looked up at the dark sky, picked out the stars trying to struggle their way through the wispy cloud cover.
"Smoke?"
He held out the battered pack to her, an off-brand he preferred. It was one of his few bad habits. Out at the street, there was the sound of late traffic.
"I didn't want to wait as long as I did, but I couldn't get a clear target without being sure I wouldn't hit you. Even I'm not that good at close quarters."
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