Something Wicked
Nov. 19th, 2013 10:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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It was getting dark very early now.
Thanksgiving was fast approaching, and Julianna was clearing the decks so she could relax and enjoy the brief time off. It wasn't really much of a holiday in England, but it was the only break she'd get from teaching until Christmas. She could always cook a meal for herself at home.
Nathan's birthday was also coming up. She'd bought him a watch and had plans to take him out for dim sum. Las Vegas wasn't much for foreign cuisine, but she'd found a few places here and there that featured something besides seafood and steak. They might not be having a relationship, per se, but she did consider it part of the deal to help him broaden his horizons.
The clock told her it was seven o clock. She was still at her desk because she was preparing a lecture about tribal life in Africa, as well as the varying dialects that were spoken among the tribes. The hallway beyond the office was silent, the last sound she'd heard being that of heels click-clacking past. Maintenance had finally repaired the door, which meant she could close it now without it sticking.
The Watcher took her glasses off, rubbed the bridge of her nose. Thank God she was almost done with this. She wanted to go home and have some dinner.
Thanksgiving was fast approaching, and Julianna was clearing the decks so she could relax and enjoy the brief time off. It wasn't really much of a holiday in England, but it was the only break she'd get from teaching until Christmas. She could always cook a meal for herself at home.
Nathan's birthday was also coming up. She'd bought him a watch and had plans to take him out for dim sum. Las Vegas wasn't much for foreign cuisine, but she'd found a few places here and there that featured something besides seafood and steak. They might not be having a relationship, per se, but she did consider it part of the deal to help him broaden his horizons.
The clock told her it was seven o clock. She was still at her desk because she was preparing a lecture about tribal life in Africa, as well as the varying dialects that were spoken among the tribes. The hallway beyond the office was silent, the last sound she'd heard being that of heels click-clacking past. Maintenance had finally repaired the door, which meant she could close it now without it sticking.
The Watcher took her glasses off, rubbed the bridge of her nose. Thank God she was almost done with this. She wanted to go home and have some dinner.
no subject
on 2013-11-27 12:37 am (UTC)Perhaps there was some unseen hand guiding the Watcher's own affairs. A force which considered itself good and with noble intent, attempting to steer her course through life. If so, then it was either blind to the potential for Elfleda's involvement or had deliberately placed her in danger from it.
Hardly a very angelic thing to do, was it?
The chair creaked again, but not, this time, because of weight. The room's atmosphere was increasingly oppressive and heavy, weighing one's very consciousness down, as if a great mass was seeping in through the skull. Elfleda's invisible entourage was near, no doubt and willing to do her bidding at a moment's notice. she had only to silently will it.
"And your attempt at tribute, at leverage, is a sorry one."
Another dark wave of filth pulsed out from the Corruptress, filth-ridden and sticking to the mature woman's aura like soiled glue. Except, this time, it wasn't momentary. It was constant. A spiritual radio signal vibrating on a vile, scratching signal.
Slowly, but surely, beginning an active attempt at what Elfleda did best.
"Such a shame, of course, that your talents have been so frequently ignored. That your Council has persisted in overlooking the Watcher you could truly be... It's enough to make one's thoughts turn to considerable frustration, hmm?"
no subject
on 2013-11-27 01:29 am (UTC)The horror of this visit was compounded when that smothering, invisible dunking happened, and Julianna gagged as her nausea increased. Her soul felt the touch, and it threatened to curl in on itself as the Corruptress;' essence poured forth. Her hands released their grip on each other to grab the arms of the chair instead.
Yes, she had been frustrated. The Council had taken her off of the training roster because she'd developed an attachment to Allison, and even though she'd had her doubts about her competence in the field she'd simultaneously been humiliated by the removal. One incident surely shouldn't be enough to undo a lifetime of service, should it? Caring wasn't a crime. Any Watcher who claimed not to have their occasional doubts and insecurities was either a liar or an incompetent fool who wasn't intelligent enough to have uncertainties.
"They shoved me aside," she muttered. "I'd always been faithful, and they shoved me aside because I broke the rules once. They said my disposition was the issue. As if they had some right to question my character. I..."
It was ugly, but it was as if she was freshly out of Cyrus Claymore's office, feeling as chastised as if she'd been paddled. Rational thought was much different than what her emotions told her. Her gorge kept threatening to rise because of Elfleda's closeness. She swallowed past the urge to splatter her lunch all over her desk.
"Stop it." It was a grunt, and Julianna couldn't decide if she was talking to herself or to the creature in her office. "For the love of God, stop it!"
no subject
on 2013-11-27 02:30 am (UTC)"I merely show what you hide from yourself... Do not presume me to have bewitched you."
This time, it was spoken with narrow-eyed contempt. Dismissive. Annoyance.
"And you will tell your Slayers I am not to be turned from... Do not stand in hell's path, Julianna. Continue to do so and I shall bring more than sentiments of curiosity."
As if to ram home her message more completely, something grabbed ahold of the Watcher with a sudden clamping around the back of neck, dragging her forward to where a new portal into nothingness swirled against wall. From within the inky blackness could be heard a distant chorus of horrors. Screams of genuine agony, chilling to hear. The stuff of nightmares. Something a little closer, sounding like cracking bones and the noise of bodily waste being expelled. An acrid stench of burning shit leaking her way.
"I would consider your potential squandered, were you to join them... But not wholly disappointed."
Whatever was holding Julianna against her will, released its grip, gifting her with freedom. Elfleda moving calmly towards the shadowy gas, dipping a finger into it, as if some impossibly dark chocolate and taking it to lips. Tasting it.
"Our future meetings could be much... Much more productive... Wouldn't you prefer that?"
no subject
on 2013-11-27 02:58 am (UTC)Dimly, she was aware that she hadn't vomited. Given the nature of what she'd just seen, she likely would have strangled on it.
She needed a priest. A priest, a shaman, an exorcist. Leviathan - and by extension Elfleda - were powerful, but those powers couldn't be limitless. She wiped perspiration from the side of her neck.
Begone, foul spirit. Leave this place.
no subject
on 2013-11-27 03:15 am (UTC)With that, knowing her task was done, Elfleda stepped through with a look akin to teasing still cast over shoulder, allowing the contents to swallow her up and a blanket of spiritual decay to be left behind. It would take days, if not weeks to properly scrub it away, even with incense and more. Strange noises would be the least of any worries coming from that room for a while... And the damage done to the desk would remain as a testament to what and who was there.
The message had been sent. A taster had been given. Now the waiting game commenced.
no subject
on 2013-11-27 04:41 am (UTC)She barely made it to the toilet in time, and then the remnants of her last meal came up with a heave. Vomit splashed against the inside of the bowl. Tears joined the sweat on the Watcher's face. She was barely aware of them.
Everything comes with a cost. It was Mother's voice. Antha St' Clare had instructed her daughter well, both before and after she accepted her duties. But she had never warned her about the likes of the Corruptress.
When the final spasm passed, Julianna sat down on the floor and leaned the back of her head against the wall. Her lip was still bleeding. The tip of her tongue slipped out, touched the wound. It stung.
Was throwing up better than being numb? Somehow, she doubted it.