Fanfic: Her Bad Heart (A Repo! ficlet)
Title: Her Bad Heart
Rating: Teen/PG/T
Fandoms: REPO! The Genetic Opera
Characters: Original Character, Repo-Man
Wordcount: 540
Synopsis: A girl runs from the Repo-Man
Warnings: Mild language.
Disclaimer: I don't own REPO! Thank god someone does though. You visionaries, you!
Crossposted: repofiction, the Repo! forums, my LJ and The Genetic Archive.
She was a pretty young thing with a bad heart and a Zydrate addiction. Her hair was purple and orange with streaks of blue snaking though it. She had blow-job lips to help pay for her Z. She had tainted blood, poisoned by her many johns. Her lungs ached from breathing rapidly, starved out of fear for air. Currently her thighs were chilled by her own terrified piss.
She was broke. She was broken.
She was squatting on her haunches under the brittle skeleton of a rusting fire escape, light puncturing through the grated metal and onto her skin like little tiny spotlight beaming down from the opera house rafters. She had never been to the opera in person, nor a concert. She hadn't the money; She liquafide her assets, then they went into that little glass vial and from there, her veins.
The heavy stomp of his boots resonated on the fire escape porch above her and made the structure shiver with forceful vibrations. His knife scrapped against the hand rail, causing a terrible screech to fly into the night.
She whimpered. Her bad heart went THA-thump. THA-thump. It was hard to swallow.
He stepped from the metal flight of stairs onto the cold, rain-slick concrete. He was ethereal and haunting and terrible. The sounds of his boots slamming into puddles and stretching leather were like a ghosts cries. But he was no ghost, he just aimed to make her one.
As his shadow stole away her tiny spotlights, her bad heart leapt into her throat.
THA-thump.
He was here for that heart. Her bad heart.
THA-thump. Tha-THUMP!
Panic clutching it's icy hands all around her brain, she bolted from her hideaway, crossing into his view. Under his mask, his lips curled back into a feral grin. He pursued her, deciding tonight that he would enjoy the chase. The two ran throughout the streets, the world becoming a blur of industrial noise and neon colours. She could not out-run him; he knew this place inside and out, just like he knew the workings of the human body.
Inside.
And out.
Tha-THUMP!
A side-stitch grew in the muscles of her left arm.
It hurt to breathe.
Tha-THUMP!
Momentum sent her crashing into a wall. She placed her palm on it's slimy surface and tried to push from it when she felt a hand grab her triple-toned hair. She tried to scream but was whirled around to face her maker. The blue light beyond the sheilding window in his mask glowed upon her face and made her look dead already.
He scanned her.
Tha-THUMP! Tha-THUMP-Tha.....
He eyes rolled back into her head. Her legs gave out from under her and she crashed forward, falling into his arms. He thought she had fainted. He then noticed through the digital image on his scan that her heart was still enough to read the GeneCo brand bar-code that was branded across it's surface, the same code he was sent to harvest.
It was silent now, useless. A wasted investment lost to terror and drugs and malnutrition. He pushed her away and she fell against the brick wall like a stuffed fall, then slide down to rest in the puddles.
Coldly and without emotion he left her in that puddle, having now no use for her bad heart.
Rating: Teen/PG/T
Fandoms: REPO! The Genetic Opera
Characters: Original Character, Repo-Man
Wordcount: 540
Synopsis: A girl runs from the Repo-Man
Warnings: Mild language.
Disclaimer: I don't own REPO! Thank god someone does though. You visionaries, you!
Crossposted: repofiction, the Repo! forums, my LJ and The Genetic Archive.
She was a pretty young thing with a bad heart and a Zydrate addiction. Her hair was purple and orange with streaks of blue snaking though it. She had blow-job lips to help pay for her Z. She had tainted blood, poisoned by her many johns. Her lungs ached from breathing rapidly, starved out of fear for air. Currently her thighs were chilled by her own terrified piss.
She was broke. She was broken.
She was squatting on her haunches under the brittle skeleton of a rusting fire escape, light puncturing through the grated metal and onto her skin like little tiny spotlight beaming down from the opera house rafters. She had never been to the opera in person, nor a concert. She hadn't the money; She liquafide her assets, then they went into that little glass vial and from there, her veins.
The heavy stomp of his boots resonated on the fire escape porch above her and made the structure shiver with forceful vibrations. His knife scrapped against the hand rail, causing a terrible screech to fly into the night.
She whimpered. Her bad heart went THA-thump. THA-thump. It was hard to swallow.
He stepped from the metal flight of stairs onto the cold, rain-slick concrete. He was ethereal and haunting and terrible. The sounds of his boots slamming into puddles and stretching leather were like a ghosts cries. But he was no ghost, he just aimed to make her one.
As his shadow stole away her tiny spotlights, her bad heart leapt into her throat.
THA-thump.
He was here for that heart. Her bad heart.
THA-thump. Tha-THUMP!
Panic clutching it's icy hands all around her brain, she bolted from her hideaway, crossing into his view. Under his mask, his lips curled back into a feral grin. He pursued her, deciding tonight that he would enjoy the chase. The two ran throughout the streets, the world becoming a blur of industrial noise and neon colours. She could not out-run him; he knew this place inside and out, just like he knew the workings of the human body.
Inside.
And out.
Tha-THUMP!
A side-stitch grew in the muscles of her left arm.
It hurt to breathe.
Tha-THUMP!
Momentum sent her crashing into a wall. She placed her palm on it's slimy surface and tried to push from it when she felt a hand grab her triple-toned hair. She tried to scream but was whirled around to face her maker. The blue light beyond the sheilding window in his mask glowed upon her face and made her look dead already.
He scanned her.
Tha-THUMP! Tha-THUMP-Tha.....
He eyes rolled back into her head. Her legs gave out from under her and she crashed forward, falling into his arms. He thought she had fainted. He then noticed through the digital image on his scan that her heart was still enough to read the GeneCo brand bar-code that was branded across it's surface, the same code he was sent to harvest.
It was silent now, useless. A wasted investment lost to terror and drugs and malnutrition. He pushed her away and she fell against the brick wall like a stuffed fall, then slide down to rest in the puddles.
Coldly and without emotion he left her in that puddle, having now no use for her bad heart.