Difference between revisions of "WaiyaddoNoDan/HavocsNightmare"

Latest revision as of 04:31, 9 June 2010

"Where have you been, my love?"

Havoc turned over in his sleep, mumbling softly to himself.

"There’s something you need to know."

Cool air wafted in through a window overlooking the pristine skyline of Yu Shan…

Her earrings always jingled softly when the wind blew.

…but sweat rolled down his brow nonetheless.

"...this is Vermillion Havoc, one of our top operatives..."
One of the top, indeed. Idiot. I'm the best, and you know it.

His body tensed, nearly convulsed, and then slackened.

"Havoc will lead the team..."

He thrashed to one side.

"...familiarity with the target..."

Sheets spilled off the side of the bed and onto the floor.

"You won't help your own wife?"
"...Bastard!"

He grimaced, and clenched his fists.

"I am not afraid of your friends in Heaven, Havoc."
"Are you so arrogant? What do you have that will stop them?"
"I have you, pet."

He gnashed his teeth. Her voice was like honey. It was so sweet, and yet it stung. It burned. It burned...he was on fire.
How could this happen? He hadn't seen her die. He tore me apart.

He?

"The Solar requested before death that we give you this. Normally this sort of thing wouldn't pass, seeing as what she did to you, but the higher-ups cleared it."
Her cloak?
Who gave clearance?

He tried to speak, but his voice drowned beneath the cries of the dying.

Am I still there?

He choked, and gasped, and rolled again. He was silent for a moment.

"Love," she spat. "What is love, Havoc? Can you show me love? Tell me what orifice in which the body conceals it?"
She was mocking him, but he considered her questions for a moment nonetheless.

He awoke with a start, sitting straight up and staring at the palms of his hands, throbbing in pain. When he fully gained control of his senses, he couldn’t remember how long he'd been sitting there; not long, he considered, judging by the fact that the deep cuts his fingernails had left in his palms had only just started to run blood down his wrists. He stared at his palms for a long while, allowing the flow to continue unabated while he read the patterns made clear by the deep red fluid pressed tightly into each line and crease. Gradually his head fell gently forward to rest, cradled in his crimson-smeared hands.

"The blood," he'd replied.

    *     *     *

An hour later, one of the little gods that Havoc kept on hire to keep his estate in order responded to the customary three knocks on the door that signified it was time to take out the bolt and open it. The familiar figure, clad in Crimson Armor of the Unseen Assassin, waited on the other side. He gave only the barest nod as acknowledgement before passing through the doorway and down the hall.

...back to YOU ZHAO