Cayenne 12, Mocha 25, CCM 9
Author: Casey
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, post-NIEE (synopsis and directory now up)
Challenges: Cayenne 12 (disarmed), Mocha 25 (mind your manners), CCM 9 (wispy)
Toppings & Extras: Hot Fudge, Cherry (present tense - I’m getting better!), Caramel
Word Count: 627
Rating: PG (mild violence)
Summary: Morgan gets the distinct pleasure of meeting Chris.
Notes: My psychopath from here is back for more. Still don’t need to have read anything else.
The petit redhead intrigues him from the moment she is dragged through his front door. Kev fills him in on her sneaking about and Chris eyes her. She is still unconscious, lying facedown on the floor, a lump already apparent on the back of her head, despite her hair, and Chris has to wonder just how hard Kev hit her. Oh, well, she’ll live. At least long enough to explain who she is and what exactly she had attempted to accomplish. Then, well, he might need to finish the job himself.
When he rolls her over with his foot, he realizes with a moment of surprise - and it isn’t easy to surprise him - that she’s young. She can’t be more than eighteen, the scraps on her face making her look younger if anything. Finally, he looks up at his waiting men and grins. “I’ll take care of this,” he says and hefts her up, grin only widening as she groans. He drags her back to one of the empty storage rooms and dumps her. He stares at her for a minute more, wondering who lost their mind and sent this small scrap of humanity after him, before crouching at her side. Kev told him she had wrenched her shoulder so he reaches up and twists it sharply.
She comes to with a gasp, even as color drains from her face. When she attempts to sit up, Chris pushes her back down and she’s still groggy enough that she doesn’t fight it. “It seems you hurt your shoulder,” Chris says, to create conversation.
She blinks rapidly at him, squinting, and Chris grins again, amused by the pain in her eyes and also impressed, because little of that pain seeps into her expression otherwise. She has training - and has been hurt before. “Who are you?” she asks, voice level, but Chris knows that won’t last long. He’s broken hardier souls than this wisp of a child.
He tosses her knife into the air, making sure she has identified it, before leaving it in his hand, turning it over and over and generally keeping it moving slightly. He loves how she tries not to watch it but her gaze keeps drifting in that direction, a spark of fear in her eyes now.
“Who are you?” she asks again.
“I think it’s only proper you introduce yourself first,” he tells her admonishingly. “After all, you were trespassing on my property. Not the other way around. It’s only polite.”
“Oh, really?” she says defiantly. He is amused. “You own all that property? Not according to the king’s records.”
He raises an eyebrow at this, wondering just who this fish he’s caught is. “The king’s records?” he repeats and then laughs. “You must be new to the city.”
She goes to sit up again and he lets her for a moment, spinning the knife on his finger, making sure to draw her attention back to it. “So what if I am?” She has spirit, he’ll give her that, and he bounces on his haunches in gleeful anticipation.
The redhead eyes him warily even as she carefully reaches up with her good arm and fingers the back of her head. “Look, I don’t know anything,” she continues, “so why don’t you just let me go?”
“Because I’m curious. Why were you here in the first place?”
She drops her hand back to her side. “Just a work trip,” she says carefully.
“And what is your line of work?”
Now she clams up, lifting her chin.
Chris smiles, holding her knife up. “Did you know that cutting off fingers is harder than cutting the wings off butterflies?”
What color she has regained since waking, she instantly loses again. Oh, this is going to be fun.
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, post-NIEE (synopsis and directory now up)
Challenges: Cayenne 12 (disarmed), Mocha 25 (mind your manners), CCM 9 (wispy)
Toppings & Extras: Hot Fudge, Cherry (present tense - I’m getting better!), Caramel
Word Count: 627
Rating: PG (mild violence)
Summary: Morgan gets the distinct pleasure of meeting Chris.
Notes: My psychopath from here is back for more. Still don’t need to have read anything else.
The petit redhead intrigues him from the moment she is dragged through his front door. Kev fills him in on her sneaking about and Chris eyes her. She is still unconscious, lying facedown on the floor, a lump already apparent on the back of her head, despite her hair, and Chris has to wonder just how hard Kev hit her. Oh, well, she’ll live. At least long enough to explain who she is and what exactly she had attempted to accomplish. Then, well, he might need to finish the job himself.
When he rolls her over with his foot, he realizes with a moment of surprise - and it isn’t easy to surprise him - that she’s young. She can’t be more than eighteen, the scraps on her face making her look younger if anything. Finally, he looks up at his waiting men and grins. “I’ll take care of this,” he says and hefts her up, grin only widening as she groans. He drags her back to one of the empty storage rooms and dumps her. He stares at her for a minute more, wondering who lost their mind and sent this small scrap of humanity after him, before crouching at her side. Kev told him she had wrenched her shoulder so he reaches up and twists it sharply.
She comes to with a gasp, even as color drains from her face. When she attempts to sit up, Chris pushes her back down and she’s still groggy enough that she doesn’t fight it. “It seems you hurt your shoulder,” Chris says, to create conversation.
She blinks rapidly at him, squinting, and Chris grins again, amused by the pain in her eyes and also impressed, because little of that pain seeps into her expression otherwise. She has training - and has been hurt before. “Who are you?” she asks, voice level, but Chris knows that won’t last long. He’s broken hardier souls than this wisp of a child.
He tosses her knife into the air, making sure she has identified it, before leaving it in his hand, turning it over and over and generally keeping it moving slightly. He loves how she tries not to watch it but her gaze keeps drifting in that direction, a spark of fear in her eyes now.
“Who are you?” she asks again.
“I think it’s only proper you introduce yourself first,” he tells her admonishingly. “After all, you were trespassing on my property. Not the other way around. It’s only polite.”
“Oh, really?” she says defiantly. He is amused. “You own all that property? Not according to the king’s records.”
He raises an eyebrow at this, wondering just who this fish he’s caught is. “The king’s records?” he repeats and then laughs. “You must be new to the city.”
She goes to sit up again and he lets her for a moment, spinning the knife on his finger, making sure to draw her attention back to it. “So what if I am?” She has spirit, he’ll give her that, and he bounces on his haunches in gleeful anticipation.
The redhead eyes him warily even as she carefully reaches up with her good arm and fingers the back of her head. “Look, I don’t know anything,” she continues, “so why don’t you just let me go?”
“Because I’m curious. Why were you here in the first place?”
She drops her hand back to her side. “Just a work trip,” she says carefully.
“And what is your line of work?”
Now she clams up, lifting her chin.
Chris smiles, holding her knife up. “Did you know that cutting off fingers is harder than cutting the wings off butterflies?”
What color she has regained since waking, she instantly loses again. Oh, this is going to be fun.