(no subject)
Kara can't believe that after everything she's been through - nuclear holocaust, fleeing through space with no food and no fuel, murderous robots, dinosaurs, space stations, and various natural disasters - the thing that finally kills her is an army of mutant teddy bears.
And yet, with her back to her own front door and a forest full of evil creatures swimming before her, her ridiculous end seems more certain all the time.
Kara peels her hand away from the wound in her side, tries to check the amount of blood she's losing without giving up her vigil on the forest surrounding the World Tree. She knew the carnival was too innocent to last. A week’s worth of funnel cakes eaten and prizes won - it only makes sense that the island would choose to turn those prizes into an army of sentient, animated murder machines come Halloween.
Between the winnings of Mack, Flo, and Calliope, there’d been at least ten bears in the World Tree alone. Kara’d managed to eject half of them upon waking to Calliope’s screams, fought another four off before the last caught her between the ribs with an especially long claw.
Kara shot that one right in its face, but the damage, however great, had already been done. There must have been something on its claws, some poison or paralytic, because Kara’d only gotten as far as a reload before a wave of dizziness hit her so hard she could hardly stay upright. She’d laid Cori's hand in Callie's, locked her daughter and the girls in their room with strict instructions not to come out until she said so and dragged herself to the door.
The window would be a safer vantage point for a last stand, but she didn’t have the energy left to get a chair to it. The porch offers her an almost 360 degree view of any approaching hostiles, at least, and the door is sturdy enough to keep her seated upright.
Lips pressed tight together, Kara resists the urge to close her eyes through another crush of dizziness, lets her knees take the weight of her gun until she needs to fire. By the sounds coming at her through the brush, that time will quickly be upon her.
“Please be a friendly,” she mutters at the jungle. Neil will be all the way at the Winchester by now, and the chances of it being him are slim, even slimmer to hope he’s brought her weapons. “Anything but a frakking teddy bear.”
And yet, with her back to her own front door and a forest full of evil creatures swimming before her, her ridiculous end seems more certain all the time.
Kara peels her hand away from the wound in her side, tries to check the amount of blood she's losing without giving up her vigil on the forest surrounding the World Tree. She knew the carnival was too innocent to last. A week’s worth of funnel cakes eaten and prizes won - it only makes sense that the island would choose to turn those prizes into an army of sentient, animated murder machines come Halloween.
Between the winnings of Mack, Flo, and Calliope, there’d been at least ten bears in the World Tree alone. Kara’d managed to eject half of them upon waking to Calliope’s screams, fought another four off before the last caught her between the ribs with an especially long claw.
Kara shot that one right in its face, but the damage, however great, had already been done. There must have been something on its claws, some poison or paralytic, because Kara’d only gotten as far as a reload before a wave of dizziness hit her so hard she could hardly stay upright. She’d laid Cori's hand in Callie's, locked her daughter and the girls in their room with strict instructions not to come out until she said so and dragged herself to the door.
The window would be a safer vantage point for a last stand, but she didn’t have the energy left to get a chair to it. The porch offers her an almost 360 degree view of any approaching hostiles, at least, and the door is sturdy enough to keep her seated upright.
Lips pressed tight together, Kara resists the urge to close her eyes through another crush of dizziness, lets her knees take the weight of her gun until she needs to fire. By the sounds coming at her through the brush, that time will quickly be upon her.
“Please be a friendly,” she mutters at the jungle. Neil will be all the way at the Winchester by now, and the chances of it being him are slim, even slimmer to hope he’s brought her weapons. “Anything but a frakking teddy bear.”