It was a rude
awakening.
Pinned, with his cheek smudged against the table, he could only see a shadow on the wall. It was unmistakably familiar-
"Tell me YOUR RANK and YOUR NAME!", the voice thundered. A dagger plunged into a notebook in front of his nose, splitting it in half, with a black glove wrapped around the hilt.
"Chris... Chris Priestly..." he stammered.
"YOUR RANK!" he felt a tug on his neck which smashed him into the table once again - this time, closer toward the blade, which was not clean.
"Community... Coordinator..." he whispered, unable to look away from droplets of blood sliding onto serenely white paper.
"Chris Priestly, Community Coordinator", the voice said, softly. "I finally found you."
The firm grip dissolved, letting him rise and regain his bearings. Yet he could not fully understand what was in front of his eyes. He could not let himself understand.
Through a broken window, rainwater splashed onto his face. Lightning flashed briefly, and for a moment, his silhouette projected onto the blood-smeared wall.
"Come", the figure motioned, stepping over a security guard, gun still in hand. “We have much to discuss.”
This is when Chris Priestly, Community Coordinator, jumped for the weapon.
* * *“No doubt the sight of an elf in skintight armor, carrying a blade almost as large as himself-”“I am so sorry”, pleaded Chris, bruise-faced and bleeding. “I didn’t know-”
“Do go on”, said Fenris.
“... wasn’t a welcome sight. He got to his feet and noticed the surprisingly comely woman, dressed in a nightgown that revealed more of her cleavage than she no doubt expected, pressing against the wall.
He grinned at her, and she screamed again. So he grabbed a freshly-baked loaf off the counter and raced for the front door of the hovel.”“Enough”, said Fenris.
It was silent for a while. The chair was cold.
“I can hear you trying to loosen the ropes, Chris”.
“I’m sorry. I’m-”.
“I’m sorry, too. You can come in now, my dear.”
A surprisingly comely woman, dressed in a nightgown that revealed more of her cleavage than she no doubt expected, appeared in the doorway. Her posture was crooked forward under the tremendous weight of her generous endowments.
“Let me help you with this, dear”, she said, approaching the elf in a skintight armor from his back.
She pulled out a blade, almost as large as Fenris himself, and, trying to keep it steady, staggered back and forth.
“Now, my dear?” she inquired with some strain.
“Hold on, darling. “, said Fenris.
“Thanks to you and yours, Chris, I cannot be parted from this weapon. Nor can I kill anyone with it.”
Chris breathed a sigh of relief.
“Unless they are tied down, of course”, smiled the large-bosomed beauty, taking a running start from the end of the room.
Modifié par shepard_syndrome, 16 février 2011 - 06:49 .