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Life after Death



 
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Will Summers

It was remarkable how quickly her beloved elder sister's hired men had been able to find the pitiful picture she, herself, presented, clothing in complete disarray and sullied, clinging to her in uncomfortable manner and ill-fitted, ripped open in some places and stretched in others to expose hints of flesh. All in all, Willow had looked like nothing more than a wandering rogue, lost in the under croft of society and forgotten, left to rot as nothing more than common rubbish.

She had been a babbling mess, trembling and clinging to the wired phone as if it were her only lifeline in the new, yet old, world around her, listening as her sister calmly cooed to her with dulcet tones, working to soothe the sheer terror that etched itself and made itself present in her normally calm tones of voice. Willow was begging, struggling in one of the men's grasp, thrashing about and unwilling to leave the public call box before, in her feverish state, bile crept along her throat and her stomach protested whatever had been within it, expelling a black, viscous sludge that splattered a highly polished shoe and she slumps over, aching and ill and oh, so confused as she is lifted and carried to the waiting car and settled within.

The semi-short amount of time it took from leaving Cremshaw Blvd and pulling up to The Culver Hotel was but a scant 30 minutes in decent traffic, but for the barely coherent young woman, it seemed a lifetime before the back passenger door was opened and she was gently pulled from within, a thin blanket draped over her bedraggled form to give her a bit of her dignity back before she was picked up and carried into the ornately furnished rooming establishment. A few moments more and she was totted to her room, blue eyes glossy and pupils wide, shivering, shaking, and clinging to the man as if he were a teddy only to find herself alone soon after in a suite that, had she been in another frame of mind, she would have brought company to for a little after hours partying.

The next couple of hours passed by in a blur, as if it were someone else that had made use of the bathing facilities of the lavish suite, sullied clothing left in a hurried, staggered trail to the bathroom, smudges and smears of dirt, as well as various abrasions and bruises exposed as teeth chattered, standing beneath the sudden cold spray of water from the shower head. It came to warmer temperatures, so she endured, letting the grime and muck leave her body, with aid of lots of soap, scrubbing her body until her skin was an aggravated red and sore. Once or twice more she was ill, more of that black sludge being expelled and she sinks to her knees, shivering, and trying to work through the images that flashed, rapidly, in her mind, until the water had grown cold and she, with chilled skin, wet skin, turned the knobs and ceased the water flow, gathered herself and clambered out to dry herself.

She caught sight of herself in the length of mirror, one towel on the floor beneath her bare feet to catch the dripping mess, another in hand, slightly damp from where she had soaked up the wetness that clung to her flesh, blue eyes staring as though she had never seen her reflection before. Vibrant blues scrutinized her reflection's appearance, no longer appearing as though she were an urchin and freshly showered, it almost seemed as if her own image were foreign to her, her once short hair a healthy length that hang, in wet clumps, over her shoulders and tickled the tops of bare breasts. Eyebrows furrowed and she looks down, looking at herself in something other than a reflection, a hand skirting over her trim belly, fingers feeling the barely there marks that life had left upon her years ago, tracing where another had once rested, before life became a harrowing experience, before she was forced into servitude to keep her family safe, before them and she feels a surge of anger fester and rear its ugly head.

Willow was no stranger to the feel of anger, but this time it was different, uncontrollable even, fingers having dropped the towel only to curl against her palm as her hand shook, muscles spasm and, in a fit of rage that was vocalized by a semi-animalistic growl that rumbled in her vocal chords, eyes a paler, brighter shade, of blue, lips pulled back in a snarl, she strikes the mirror with her fist, sending spider-webbed cracks along it's surface even as shards trickle down like large flakes of glitter, thick, dangerous, glitter tinged red with fresh blood that dripped from her split knuckles.

Pain awoke her from the rage induced fog, sending sparks of agony burning at her nerve receptors and she utters a sharp curse, grabbing for a fresh towel, one away from the chaos she had left behind by the sink, a few droplets left on the tiled flooring even as she wrapped her hand as best she could, holding injured limb to bare chest and she shakily trudges to the bed only to unceremoniously drop down onto it, rolling to her side and curling into the fetal position beneath a thin sheet, clutching bloodied towel and injured hand close to herself.

"What's wrong with me..?" She questioned aloud, but there were no answers forthcoming. Autumn wanted her to remain here, thus she would stay. Maybe the elder sister would know what was happening to her.
November 09, 2018 10:15 am

Autumn Summers

Not only did Autumn book a room for her sister at The Culver Hotel during their conversation, as soon as the phone call with her sister ended, she dialed the hotel itself to give detailed instructions to the front desk staff, to be passed along to whomever assisted Willow. It was the best she could do from halfway across the world. The next phone call was made to a private car service in the same area. Thankfully they, like the boutique hotel, were happy to accomodate Autumn’s wishes. Los Angeles did have its advantages simply for being what it was. Later she might wonder at the other odd requests they got from their customers.

The last call went to the same people whom she contacted when she needed to go collect Idris. She simply could not wait on a commercial flight, nor did she care to deal with the trouble of connections. Also in this particular case, privacy meant a great deal, given the state of her sister’s distress. The less traumatic the experience, the better.

Twice in a handful of months she’d utilized Blaize’s assets. He would be tickled pink, if he ever resurfaced.

During the several phone calls, Idris remained stretched out on the couch, listening-but-not to her speak, unobtrusively watching her pace up until she sat and pulled out the laptop, and eventually return to pacing. If he heard the people on other side, she wasn’t aware. Not that it mattered in the long run. When all the arrangements were made, Autumn shared the scant details she had and finished by stating, obviously, she would be leaving to LA in short order.

After a moment of hesitation, she asked him to come along. Bad things tended to happen when she left the demon to his own devices for more than a few hours. The little foray into Hell was a perfect example of his mischief making. More than that, Autumn wanted his company. For once, she wanted a shoulder to lean on when she needed it.

Idris agreed to accompany her, of course, seemingly pleased about the fact. He almost always did what she asked of him, though she suspected that was not the case with anyone except her. It was an unsettling thought, the implications of which were best not dwelled upon. Instead, Autumn gave his muscular forearm a squeeze and went up onto her toes to kiss his cheek in a wordless ‘thank you.’

On the way to the airport, a mass text went out to Blaize, Summer and Winter, letting them know about Will and her intent to fetch their sister. She would give them more information when she had it.

But before that happened, Autumn and Idris had to get there. It was a long damn flight, during which she distracted herself delving into a new book, eliminating the need for much conversation. Perhaps he sensed she wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter or otherwise. Either way, she appreciated the quiet support. He was there without being up in her face about it. A skill most people lacked, but Idris read her and interpreted her moods better than was entirely comfortable.

Finally, several hours later, they arrived at LAX. The quiet continued in the car which awaited them, save the brief greetings. At the hotel, the car would wait for them to return, Willow in tow. Similarly, the plane was being refueled and prepared again for departure. Autumn had no intention of staying any longer than necessary and it took every ounce of self control not to run up to her sister’s room.

In the lobby, Autumn gave Idris’ arm another squeeze. “Wait here. Get yourself something to eat. I don’t know how long this will take…”

The smile he flashed had surely melted colder hearts than hers. “Take your time. I’ll wait as long as it takes.” His wink put all sorts of innuendo into the statement and, more importantly, called a small smile onto her lips. It was so typically Idris she couldn’t help but smile.

Then the tall male shooed her off, and she made her way to Will’s room, a small bag of clothing and other necessities in her hand.

Autumn’s free hand knocked gently on the closed door. “Will? Darling, it’s Autumn. Fair warning, I changed my hair. And my face…” Not for the first time, she cursed the one who did this to her, but the words remain calm, coaxing. “I swear it’s me. Open up, love.”

*Permission to godmod given by tpb Idris
November 12, 2018 09:12 pm

Will Summers


The passing of time was an odd sensation, lost in memories of yesteryear and shivering beneath the sheets she had ensconced herself within, the dull throb of agony peeking through the near-mindless haze that seemed to have descended upon the darkly crowned woman as unfocused blues stared at the ceiling. Her stomach gave a loud rumble and the once longed for feeling of hunger was a strange thing that soon occupied her wandering, roving, thoughts, rousing her from the cocoon of cotton to roll over and dial room service for some form of sustenance, uncaring as to what it was as long as it filled the empty pit her belly felt like.

 

Again she drifted in her thoughts, lost to her surroundings until a knock sounded at the door and brought her back, to which she crawled out of bed and staggered towards the door when a wave of dizziness assaulted her and made her seem like a clumsy, newly whelped filly trying to stand on gangly legs for the first time.   Tripping over her feet a time or two, Will finally made it to the door and opened it, uncaring of her state of dress or lack thereof, in favor of snatching the bag of food from the stunned bellhop and shutting the door in his face.  Maybe she should get someone to shop for some clothing for her?  Eh, that thought is meant for later. Right now, her stomach gave another loud rumble to announce the need of what was in the confines of the brown bag with golden arches on it.  Plopping herself down on the floor and tearing into the bag and unwrapping a burger, she took a comically large bite and began to masticate the dressed item, a rumble of a moan escaping her as she practically devoured the cooked cow in a few short bites and fell upon the piping hot, salty 'goodness' of what they called 'fries', inhaling them in short order.  

 

Feeling a little more normal now that her hunger had been asuaged for the moment, Will looked at the mess of burger wrappers and empty fry carton and began the short task of cleaning up a bit of the mess, working to keep herself busy lest she go mad from being kept 'cooped' in the hotel room.  Trash gathered, she proceeded to clean up the broken glass in the bathroom, careful to not injure herself further on it and depositing the shards, and soiled towel, into the large, brown paper bag her food had arrived in before padding back into the main portion of the suite to have them procure her some form of clothing and footwear, again uncaring what it was and grabbing a sheet to cover herself with only to plonk down on a cushiony chair to await her vestments.

 

Hours later saw Willow once more freshly showered, damp hair soaking the fabric of white t-shirt as she worked on, carefully, tying the laces to her new pair of black boots when the door is knocked on again, this time a tentative inquiry uttered from a woman's voice that was rather unfamiliar to her, her name spoken and then that of her sister's.  The once foreign, yet familiar, spark of hope made her stomach tense and she takes a deep breath only to release it slow and evenly before walking to the door to let in her cherished sister.  Only, when blue eyes fixated upon foreign visage did blues become like glacial chips and a rumbling growl started within her chest as injured hand quickly grasped the front of 'Autum's' throat and pulled her into the room with the door slamming shut, the back of the woman claiming to be her kin pressed against the wall just inside of Will's room.  

 

The sudden movement, the tensing of hand caused the scabs to be altered as skin split once more and blood welled to the surface, dripping down her knuckles as Will pinned the one claiming to be Autumn against the wall, lips pulling back into a snarl as a growl rumbled once more, giving her tone of voice a throaty quality.

 

"Who th'fck are you?"
November 20, 2018 09:10 am
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