By the Sword 2/?
anonymous
March 1 2009, 00:03:53 UTC
The house was dark, although this meant nothing, for although it was dark it did not mean that the household was asleep. For one thing, Feliks was sure Ivan never slept, for another it was possible it was one of the many blackouts that were prevalent around these hard times.
As it was, the house was lit by candles, illuminating the grim Soviet architecture, and the smears of grime on the leadlight windows. It was a saddening phase the country Russia was going through, but Feliks would be damned before he felt sorry for Ivan.
Working his way around the twists and turns of the hallway, (and just why was the door open?) the shadows loomed over Feliks, who dismissed everything and anything around him as he surged forwards.
After kicking open the fourth door in a row, he knew he had found himself in the right place. Such a room could only be Ivan’s bedroom. It reeked of lunacy, bitterness and that strange childishness he possessed, from the oil painting of the sunflowers on the wall, to the whip brazenly displayed on the dresser. Hate overflowed in Feliks heart, past the steel and cold, the fear, and the love that had brought him this far. Sword in sheath, and gun in both hands, he approached the bed, gun pointed toward the pillow.
This is not killing a man in cold blood, because this is not a man. This is a monster, a beast that must be destroyed. Not for me, for my country, but for Liet. No more bruises to try and hide, or alibis to write. This will be the end. One shot.
That is all it will take .
The blankets were pulled up across the top of the pillow, and Feliks was glad for that at least, for then he wouldn’t have to see the dead mans face. Shaking, he pointed the gun downwards, closer, so as to make it quick, directly to the brain. Trembles rocked his frame, eyes shining with madness, shining, but empty, hollow and cold. Sweat glossed him, making him seem inhuman, with his face twisted and bitter, hair falling softly around it, like a halo, a twisted contrast.
Eyes close.
His fingers tighten on the trigger.
The shot rings around the room, and Feliks falls to his knees from the force of it, reeling backwards. Breathing heavily, he clutches the gun like a newborn baby, alone in his thoughts. So absorbed is he that he doesn’t hear the footfalls behind him.
An arm stretches around his neck, in a mocking imitation of an embrace. Warm, alcohol-heady breath tickles his ear, as a scarf flicks outwards and itches at his neck.
“That wasn’t very nice, was it?”
Feliks turns his head slowly towards the whisper, and stares straight into empty violet eyes.
Re: By the Sword 2/?
anonymous
March 2 2009, 17:48:23 UTC
recaptcha: uesday blade. For srs.
It's a good thing you linked this in the 'needs reviewed' thread. I wouldn't have known it was here otherwise.
I love this so far. Though I'm kinda hoping the story strays from the original request, 'cause right now, Ivan getting fucked over by Feliks with a sword sounds pretty awesome.
Re: By the Sword 2/?
anonymous
May 28 2009, 23:46:24 UTC
DEAR GOD Feliks, acting... manly? What delicious madness is this?! Please pick this up again- its so darkly thrilling and oh noesss Poland what will become of you D*:?!
The house was dark, although this meant nothing, for although it was dark it did not mean that the household was asleep. For one thing, Feliks was sure Ivan never slept, for another it was possible it was one of the many blackouts that were prevalent around these hard times.
As it was, the house was lit by candles, illuminating the grim Soviet architecture, and the smears of grime on the leadlight windows. It was a saddening phase the country Russia was going through, but Feliks would be damned before he felt sorry for Ivan.
Working his way around the twists and turns of the hallway, (and just why was the door open?) the shadows loomed over Feliks, who dismissed everything and anything around him as he surged forwards.
After kicking open the fourth door in a row, he knew he had found himself in the right place. Such a room could only be Ivan’s bedroom. It reeked of lunacy, bitterness and that strange childishness he possessed, from the oil painting of the sunflowers on the wall, to the whip brazenly displayed on the dresser. Hate overflowed in Feliks heart, past the steel and cold, the fear, and the love that had brought him this far. Sword in sheath, and gun in both hands, he approached the bed, gun pointed toward the pillow.
This is not killing a man in cold blood, because this is not a man. This is a monster, a beast that must be destroyed. Not for me, for my country, but for Liet. No more bruises to try and hide, or alibis to write. This will be the end. One shot.
That is all it will take .
The blankets were pulled up across the top of the pillow, and Feliks was glad for that at least, for then he wouldn’t have to see the dead mans face. Shaking, he pointed the gun downwards, closer, so as to make it quick, directly to the brain. Trembles rocked his frame, eyes shining with madness, shining, but empty, hollow and cold. Sweat glossed him, making him seem inhuman, with his face twisted and bitter, hair falling softly around it, like a halo, a twisted contrast.
Eyes close.
His fingers tighten on the trigger.
The shot rings around the room, and Feliks falls to his knees from the force of it, reeling backwards. Breathing heavily, he clutches the gun like a newborn baby, alone in his thoughts. So absorbed is he that he doesn’t hear the footfalls behind him.
An arm stretches around his neck, in a mocking imitation of an embrace. Warm, alcohol-heady breath tickles his ear, as a scarf flicks outwards and itches at his neck.
“That wasn’t very nice, was it?”
Feliks turns his head slowly towards the whisper, and stares straight into empty violet eyes.
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It's a good thing you linked this in the 'needs reviewed' thread. I wouldn't have known it was here otherwise.
I love this so far. Though I'm kinda hoping the story strays from the original request, 'cause right now, Ivan getting fucked over by Feliks with a sword sounds pretty awesome.
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^.^ Feliks would never go down without a fight so....in order to stay in character i just might have that...
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....NOW?
<3
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write more, pretty please *_*
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..... I'll give you cookies??
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