cayenne flavor binge.
AUTHOR: Shrimp
CHALLENGE: cayenne flavor binge.
WORD COUNT: 3048
RATING: PG13 (cursing, violence)
NOTES: I saw the Cayenne flavor and I couldn't help but write this. It covers a lot of ground and revolves around Reynard/Addison and the various fights and training they have gone through.
makeshift weapons.
Geoffrey smiled to himself and leaned against the hoe he had stuck in the ground. In the pig pen Reynard and his friend-the prince, Geoffrey corrected-lunged and swatted at each other with wooden spoons. He could tell from their movements and his own not too distant childhood that they were “sword fighting”. He would have to make sure that Reynard cleaned them and returned them before their mother saw. If she did the spoons were likely to get used as real weapons for Reynard. He shook his head lightly and returned to his work. Oh to be young.
first blood.
“Wait what are we doing?” Addison asked as he peered at the axe in Reynard’s hand. His friend looked at the tool for a moment and then back up at the prince. He shrugged.
“I’m going to go kill a pig. I don’t know what you’re doing.” Addison paled slightly.
“You really kill them with your bare hands?” Again Reynard was forced to shrug. This was standard for him. Sometimes he forgot that Addison was a prince.
“Why not? You don’t have to come. If you wait it shouldn’t take too long. My brother usually does everything after the slaughtering.”
combat training.
“What’s this?” Addison asked as a large book was dropped in front of him. The man who dropped it looked at him harshly for a moment before the boy caught the hint and added, “sir.”
“This is the beginning of your combat training,” the man answered. Addison wrinkled his nose and turned his body to face the man, who had moved passed Addison’s desk to those of other students.
“We’re supposed to learn to fight from a book? I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” a low groan filled the room as Addison had already become known for being markedly disrespectful, “but that sounds stupid. What are we supposed to do if we come across someone with a gigantic battle axe? Hit them over the head with this?” He gestured to the old leather book that sat on his desk. The prince turned with a smile to find the source of laughter. He always enjoyed when someone found his commentary funny. Instead of finding an ally he merely received a slap to the back of his head. “Ow!” He called out, grabbing at his head.
“Maybe once you finish that book you will understand how to avoid that in the future.”
below the belt.
Reynard blew a piece of his hair out of his face with slight agitation. He sighed lightly and continued to scrub the floors as one of the academy teachers scowled down at him. “Maybe next time you will remember to compose yourself honorably.” Reynard nodded solemnly at the older man. His expression relaxed. Reynard wasn’t known for being a trouble maker in the academy. “Remember, honor and virtue are just as important to a knight as strength.”
“I will remember, sir. Thank you for this opportunity to better myself through discipline,” Reynard recited. The correct response to punishment was one of the first things they had all learned at the academy. Some had learned it more readily than others, of course. For Reynard the phrasing was still fairly fresh in his mouth.
“When you finish go to the kitchen. I will have a meal set aside for you, but only when you have completed your task,” the man said with a nod as he went about other business in the school. Reynard watched after him as he left. Once the teacher was out of sight he returned to his scrubbing with a smirk on his face. He wouldn’t be done for hours and his stomach was already rumbling. However, it had been worth it to see Addison limping along with a ice on his crotch all morning.
unfair odds.
Addison looked around at the group of men that was encircling them and swallowed heavily. He shuffled backwards on instinct, his back touching lightly against Reynard’s as the other boy did the same. Over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of his friend’s determined face. Hopefully they would be able to beat their teachers and graduate the academy as full fledged knights of the Order of the Hound. His stomach turned anxiously as the men began their systematic attacks. He wondered if in real life he and Reynard would ever find odds so heavily stacked against them as right now…
fortifications.
Reynard stumbled forward as a weight pressed itself jarringly against the door he was leaning against. He regained his balance quickly, straightening back to his full height and looking at Addison. The once prince smirked at him from his place still against the door. The push had not been enough to jar him from his place. Reynard rolled his eyes in good nature and resumed his place beside Addison, the pair working as a makeshift barricade. In the room before them a trembling man and woman worked on nailing shut the windows. Every now and then a low growl could be heard from the outside and each time Addison thought the man would collapse with fear.
“I can’t believe this,” Reynard remarked, widening his stance to increase his leverage against the creature lunging against the door. Addison laughed, slid forward a little, and reassessed his footing.
“Yeah, but you can never believe anything.” Reynard dipped his head in a gesture that signaled Addison had a point.
“Do you think you can hold the door without me? I could try to knock off a few of them from the second floor window.” Addison nodded, grunting under the strain as Reynard removed himself. The taller knight waited a moment to see that Addison had everything under control before darting up the stairs.
bar fight.
Addison turned just in time to see Reynard lift a bottle from behind the bar and smash it over the head of a man sitting next to him. The smell of cheap wine filled the air and for a split second everything was silent. He reached out to grab Reynard’s shoulder and pull him outside but was too slow. The wine and blood covered man reeled around, landing a solid punch to Reynard’s jaw. His friend stumbled backwards slightly, catching himself on the bar and throwing his own counter punch quickly. When his attack hit the man fell to the ground unconscious. Addison threw money on the bar and grabbed Reynard, ushering him out of the tavern and into the street. Anger was spreading amongst the man’s friends and Addison didn’t want to fight a bar full of enraged drunks.
He looked at Reynard in the unsteady light that spewed out from the tavern’s windows. He thought about reprimanding him, about asking him what he thought he was doing. In the end he simply glanced back at the door and tugged on Reynard’s arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
a duel.
“This is ridiculous,” Addison groaned into his hands. Reynard looked over at him with a cocked eyebrow. He knew he shouldn’t be amused by the situation but he couldn’t help himself. It was funny and it would stay funny unless Addison got hurt in which case it would only get funnier. The Reynard really wasn’t concerned that Addison would get too badly injured or be killed. It was a duel with some noble who probably had never set foot outside the city.
“You know you deserve it,” Reynard said with a small grin. “You slept with the man’s wife. Twice!” Addison held up three fingers, managing to keep his face buried at the same time. Reynard rolled his eyes. “Three times, then. You can’t actually be surprised that this happening.”
“No,” he relented, finally removing his face from his hands and looking at Reynard.
“Then what’s your big issue? You know you’re going to win.” Addison looked at him as if everything should be obvious. When Reynard failed to catch on he shook his head a little and explained.
“I know I’m going to win. I just don’t think it’s very fair that I’m getting in all the trouble. She had as much sex with me as I had with her, after all!” It was Reynard’s turn to place a palm in front of his face, though why he was taken aback he wasn’t sure.
tactics.
“What are you wearing?” Addison asked as he looked at the tunic that Reynard had thrown on. It was essentially the same as the one that Addison was wearing and any of the ones that he had seen Reynard wear for the past three years. The only difference was that the white paw print was noticeably absent from the fabric. Reynard looked down at himself as if thoroughly confused by Addison’s question. “Those are blank,” he continued even though he knew Reynard must be aware of it. His friend smiled knowingly at him.
“It is called strategy and finesse, my friend.” He reached behind him and tossed another tunic to Addison. He caught it and held it out in front of him to examine. Like the one Reynard was wearing it lacked the insignia of the Order of the Hound. “If we wear these we blend in. We can find out the same amount of information as when we use our position to garner respect, but we avoid become a target.” Addison smiled and began to switch out of his usual tunic into the one that Reynard had offered.
“You always were the smart one.”
a worthy adversary.
“I bet you would make a worthy adversary,” Addison said nonchalantly to Bliss. She laughed lightly but Reynard looked over with a considerable lack of amusement on his face.
“What do you mean? Bliss is nothing more than bones.” Even though the comment earned him a pointed look from the gypsy he stood by what he had said. It was true. She was small and thin, hardly a chest to speak up and only a moderately more impressive waist. Not that any of those details mattered really, he supposed.
“Exactly. She’s little and weak. I could beat her up easily. Hence, the perfect and more worthy adversary,” Addison said with a flourish of his hand to underscore his logic. Bliss laughed again and Reynard frowned despite his amusement.
disarmed.
Reynard watched as Bliss walked slowly around the camp they had set up. There wasn’t much to do and they couldn’t move until Addison got back to being himself. It was too dangerous to travel when Addison was actually Bertrand. He knew that these moments were especially trying on Bliss. She blamed herself for the predicament that they were in. She had, after all, done this. He didn’t blame her though and he felt bad that she was so anxious while they waited. Rising from his seat on the ground he hailed her over with a friendly wave. She approached with a look of curious amusement on her face. He lowered his eyes quickly to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck a little as he tried to figure out exactly what he meant to say.
“Would you like me to teach you some self defense?” He managed to get out. He looked up slightly, catching her put her hands on her hips. He imagined that she had tilted her head as well in an inquisitive gesture. He smiled despite the fact that he didn’t really know if she had done so. “I mean, I guess as long as someone looks you in the eye you have a decent chance of avoiding confrontation but aside from that you really don’t have much to save yourself from being beaten.”
“What did you have in mind?” She asked. Usually when she spoke to him there was a slow deliberateness to her words, an obvious undertone of something risqué. Either that or it was an agitation at their drastically different views of the world. This time there was an open eagerness. Reynard raised his gaze to her face, forgetting himself for a moment. He was grateful that she blinked between the changes and lightened the load on his mind.
“Simple stuff. How to escape a hold. How to use an opponent’s weight and strength against them. Just in case you ever wind up in a dark alley without me or Addison.” He could almost here her response before she made one. He could see how she would lean in a little and breathe Now, what would I be doing in a dark alley without you?
“Okay. Teach me,” she said instead. Reynard blinked and stared at her. He just couldn’t figure her out.
wrestling/grappling.
“You son of a bitch,” Reynard hissed as Addison’s body writhed beneath him. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t really Addison. He also had to remind himself that Addison would be the one to suffer any damage that he heaped on Bertrand. “You son of a bitch,” he cursed again with a little more force. He grabbed Addison-Bertrand!-by his shoulder and turned him around so that they were face to face. His knees locked on Bertrand’s-Addison’s…-- ribs to hold him in place. There would be bruises, he didn’t doubt that. He couldn’t afford to be softer though. Bertrand was trying to escape and take Addison’s body with him. He would kill Bliss and then there would be no hope of returning his friend. In that scenario he would lose both of his friends. He gripped the man beneath him by the collar of his shirt with one hand and punched him hard with the other. “You son of a bitch…” he breathed, relief shaking his body as the man’s struggling lessened.
break it up.
Reynard grabbed Addison’s wrist as the he tried to land another punch. “Stop it!” He yelled. Behind him Bliss was standing nervously with one of her hands tangled in her short hair. Addison tried to pull away but Reynard held on tight. “What’s wrong with you? What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded. Addison looked at him harshly before pulling his hand free. He rubbed his sore fist and looked down at the ground.
“You don’t understand. What else can I do? I can hear him thinking, thinking the most terrible things.” There was a sob in his chest that ached to get out but he wouldn’t let it. He didn’t want to seem hysterical. Well, more hysterical than he already must have seemed. When he looked up Reynard had a crestfallen, defeated look. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes filled with a sad desperation. Bliss looked like she was going to cry from her own guilt. Addison looked back at the ground. He hadn’t wanted them to feel bad for him. He just wanted them to let him do what needed to be done.
“We both know that Bertrand is a part of you now. That until Bliss can find out what needs to be done to remove him that he’s there, waiting until he gets a chance to dictate your actions. We know that, Addison, and we’re going to help you. If we haven’t given up on you then you can’t give up on you either.” Addison looked at his friend with a frown that somehow managed to keep his tears in. The swollen eye probably helped too.
“Here, let me put something on that,” Bliss said in a quiet voice as she rushed over and tenderly touched Addison’s self inflicted black eye.
weapons drawn.
Reynard drew the dagger out in front of him, holding it defensively to ward off the woman before him. Only she wasn’t a woman. There was a woman’s shape, the silhouette of someone beautiful and soft, but that was all. Looking straight at her he could see things that his mind grappled to understand. She was moving. Her skin was moving. It was crawling and changing. It seemed to be making noise as it did so. A humming. Or a buzzing. It was flies. Her skin was made of flies. The realization caused his stomach to flounder and his knees to grow wet and weak. “Stay back,” he warned. His voice wasn’t as convincing as he would have liked.
“You think you can hurt me, farm boy?” Her voice was cruel. It mocked him though he wasn’t sure how he could even understand it. The sound of the flies was maddening and the noise she made when she opened her mouth was wispy. She wasn’t really speaking. Or at least he didn’t think so. His head hurt from looking at her and trying to understand what she was. Stealthily he looked over at Bliss and Addison’s unconscious bodies. There had to be a way to save them. He wouldn’t let his woman kill them. He wouldn’t let this creature kill them.
“I know that I can at least try. Everything bleeds. Everything dies.” She seemed to smile at his dedication and whatever it was that he witnessed her face do made him sick. How could something like this exist? Something that was so obviously one thing but also so clearly another. He gripped his weapon tighter.
“Well,” she hummed, “aren’t you the foolish one.”
battle fury.
Addison watched as Reynard tore through the room. He lifted the mattress and then tossed it to the side. He pulled the drawers out of the little cabinet, ripped its small doors off its hinges. He broke the mirror with his elbow and threw the chair across the room into the wall. He was breaking everything, shattering anything he could get his hands on under the guise of searching for evidence. But they both knew there was nothing. Bliss was gone without a trace. That strange man had taken her and as Addison watched Reynard seething helplessly in the middle of the room the stranger had rented his heart broke.
“She’s gone,” he whispered. Reynard looked over at him, his hands red as the skin peeled off. He looked for something else to break or turn over but the room was already ruined. He yelled and then let himself sink to the floor in the middle of the debris he had created.
“She’s gone,” he admitted, resting his head in his hands in defeat.
CHALLENGE: cayenne flavor binge.
WORD COUNT: 3048
RATING: PG13 (cursing, violence)
NOTES: I saw the Cayenne flavor and I couldn't help but write this. It covers a lot of ground and revolves around Reynard/Addison and the various fights and training they have gone through.
makeshift weapons.
Geoffrey smiled to himself and leaned against the hoe he had stuck in the ground. In the pig pen Reynard and his friend-the prince, Geoffrey corrected-lunged and swatted at each other with wooden spoons. He could tell from their movements and his own not too distant childhood that they were “sword fighting”. He would have to make sure that Reynard cleaned them and returned them before their mother saw. If she did the spoons were likely to get used as real weapons for Reynard. He shook his head lightly and returned to his work. Oh to be young.
first blood.
“Wait what are we doing?” Addison asked as he peered at the axe in Reynard’s hand. His friend looked at the tool for a moment and then back up at the prince. He shrugged.
“I’m going to go kill a pig. I don’t know what you’re doing.” Addison paled slightly.
“You really kill them with your bare hands?” Again Reynard was forced to shrug. This was standard for him. Sometimes he forgot that Addison was a prince.
“Why not? You don’t have to come. If you wait it shouldn’t take too long. My brother usually does everything after the slaughtering.”
combat training.
“What’s this?” Addison asked as a large book was dropped in front of him. The man who dropped it looked at him harshly for a moment before the boy caught the hint and added, “sir.”
“This is the beginning of your combat training,” the man answered. Addison wrinkled his nose and turned his body to face the man, who had moved passed Addison’s desk to those of other students.
“We’re supposed to learn to fight from a book? I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” a low groan filled the room as Addison had already become known for being markedly disrespectful, “but that sounds stupid. What are we supposed to do if we come across someone with a gigantic battle axe? Hit them over the head with this?” He gestured to the old leather book that sat on his desk. The prince turned with a smile to find the source of laughter. He always enjoyed when someone found his commentary funny. Instead of finding an ally he merely received a slap to the back of his head. “Ow!” He called out, grabbing at his head.
“Maybe once you finish that book you will understand how to avoid that in the future.”
below the belt.
Reynard blew a piece of his hair out of his face with slight agitation. He sighed lightly and continued to scrub the floors as one of the academy teachers scowled down at him. “Maybe next time you will remember to compose yourself honorably.” Reynard nodded solemnly at the older man. His expression relaxed. Reynard wasn’t known for being a trouble maker in the academy. “Remember, honor and virtue are just as important to a knight as strength.”
“I will remember, sir. Thank you for this opportunity to better myself through discipline,” Reynard recited. The correct response to punishment was one of the first things they had all learned at the academy. Some had learned it more readily than others, of course. For Reynard the phrasing was still fairly fresh in his mouth.
“When you finish go to the kitchen. I will have a meal set aside for you, but only when you have completed your task,” the man said with a nod as he went about other business in the school. Reynard watched after him as he left. Once the teacher was out of sight he returned to his scrubbing with a smirk on his face. He wouldn’t be done for hours and his stomach was already rumbling. However, it had been worth it to see Addison limping along with a ice on his crotch all morning.
unfair odds.
Addison looked around at the group of men that was encircling them and swallowed heavily. He shuffled backwards on instinct, his back touching lightly against Reynard’s as the other boy did the same. Over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of his friend’s determined face. Hopefully they would be able to beat their teachers and graduate the academy as full fledged knights of the Order of the Hound. His stomach turned anxiously as the men began their systematic attacks. He wondered if in real life he and Reynard would ever find odds so heavily stacked against them as right now…
fortifications.
Reynard stumbled forward as a weight pressed itself jarringly against the door he was leaning against. He regained his balance quickly, straightening back to his full height and looking at Addison. The once prince smirked at him from his place still against the door. The push had not been enough to jar him from his place. Reynard rolled his eyes in good nature and resumed his place beside Addison, the pair working as a makeshift barricade. In the room before them a trembling man and woman worked on nailing shut the windows. Every now and then a low growl could be heard from the outside and each time Addison thought the man would collapse with fear.
“I can’t believe this,” Reynard remarked, widening his stance to increase his leverage against the creature lunging against the door. Addison laughed, slid forward a little, and reassessed his footing.
“Yeah, but you can never believe anything.” Reynard dipped his head in a gesture that signaled Addison had a point.
“Do you think you can hold the door without me? I could try to knock off a few of them from the second floor window.” Addison nodded, grunting under the strain as Reynard removed himself. The taller knight waited a moment to see that Addison had everything under control before darting up the stairs.
bar fight.
Addison turned just in time to see Reynard lift a bottle from behind the bar and smash it over the head of a man sitting next to him. The smell of cheap wine filled the air and for a split second everything was silent. He reached out to grab Reynard’s shoulder and pull him outside but was too slow. The wine and blood covered man reeled around, landing a solid punch to Reynard’s jaw. His friend stumbled backwards slightly, catching himself on the bar and throwing his own counter punch quickly. When his attack hit the man fell to the ground unconscious. Addison threw money on the bar and grabbed Reynard, ushering him out of the tavern and into the street. Anger was spreading amongst the man’s friends and Addison didn’t want to fight a bar full of enraged drunks.
He looked at Reynard in the unsteady light that spewed out from the tavern’s windows. He thought about reprimanding him, about asking him what he thought he was doing. In the end he simply glanced back at the door and tugged on Reynard’s arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
a duel.
“This is ridiculous,” Addison groaned into his hands. Reynard looked over at him with a cocked eyebrow. He knew he shouldn’t be amused by the situation but he couldn’t help himself. It was funny and it would stay funny unless Addison got hurt in which case it would only get funnier. The Reynard really wasn’t concerned that Addison would get too badly injured or be killed. It was a duel with some noble who probably had never set foot outside the city.
“You know you deserve it,” Reynard said with a small grin. “You slept with the man’s wife. Twice!” Addison held up three fingers, managing to keep his face buried at the same time. Reynard rolled his eyes. “Three times, then. You can’t actually be surprised that this happening.”
“No,” he relented, finally removing his face from his hands and looking at Reynard.
“Then what’s your big issue? You know you’re going to win.” Addison looked at him as if everything should be obvious. When Reynard failed to catch on he shook his head a little and explained.
“I know I’m going to win. I just don’t think it’s very fair that I’m getting in all the trouble. She had as much sex with me as I had with her, after all!” It was Reynard’s turn to place a palm in front of his face, though why he was taken aback he wasn’t sure.
tactics.
“What are you wearing?” Addison asked as he looked at the tunic that Reynard had thrown on. It was essentially the same as the one that Addison was wearing and any of the ones that he had seen Reynard wear for the past three years. The only difference was that the white paw print was noticeably absent from the fabric. Reynard looked down at himself as if thoroughly confused by Addison’s question. “Those are blank,” he continued even though he knew Reynard must be aware of it. His friend smiled knowingly at him.
“It is called strategy and finesse, my friend.” He reached behind him and tossed another tunic to Addison. He caught it and held it out in front of him to examine. Like the one Reynard was wearing it lacked the insignia of the Order of the Hound. “If we wear these we blend in. We can find out the same amount of information as when we use our position to garner respect, but we avoid become a target.” Addison smiled and began to switch out of his usual tunic into the one that Reynard had offered.
“You always were the smart one.”
a worthy adversary.
“I bet you would make a worthy adversary,” Addison said nonchalantly to Bliss. She laughed lightly but Reynard looked over with a considerable lack of amusement on his face.
“What do you mean? Bliss is nothing more than bones.” Even though the comment earned him a pointed look from the gypsy he stood by what he had said. It was true. She was small and thin, hardly a chest to speak up and only a moderately more impressive waist. Not that any of those details mattered really, he supposed.
“Exactly. She’s little and weak. I could beat her up easily. Hence, the perfect and more worthy adversary,” Addison said with a flourish of his hand to underscore his logic. Bliss laughed again and Reynard frowned despite his amusement.
disarmed.
Reynard watched as Bliss walked slowly around the camp they had set up. There wasn’t much to do and they couldn’t move until Addison got back to being himself. It was too dangerous to travel when Addison was actually Bertrand. He knew that these moments were especially trying on Bliss. She blamed herself for the predicament that they were in. She had, after all, done this. He didn’t blame her though and he felt bad that she was so anxious while they waited. Rising from his seat on the ground he hailed her over with a friendly wave. She approached with a look of curious amusement on her face. He lowered his eyes quickly to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck a little as he tried to figure out exactly what he meant to say.
“Would you like me to teach you some self defense?” He managed to get out. He looked up slightly, catching her put her hands on her hips. He imagined that she had tilted her head as well in an inquisitive gesture. He smiled despite the fact that he didn’t really know if she had done so. “I mean, I guess as long as someone looks you in the eye you have a decent chance of avoiding confrontation but aside from that you really don’t have much to save yourself from being beaten.”
“What did you have in mind?” She asked. Usually when she spoke to him there was a slow deliberateness to her words, an obvious undertone of something risqué. Either that or it was an agitation at their drastically different views of the world. This time there was an open eagerness. Reynard raised his gaze to her face, forgetting himself for a moment. He was grateful that she blinked between the changes and lightened the load on his mind.
“Simple stuff. How to escape a hold. How to use an opponent’s weight and strength against them. Just in case you ever wind up in a dark alley without me or Addison.” He could almost here her response before she made one. He could see how she would lean in a little and breathe Now, what would I be doing in a dark alley without you?
“Okay. Teach me,” she said instead. Reynard blinked and stared at her. He just couldn’t figure her out.
wrestling/grappling.
“You son of a bitch,” Reynard hissed as Addison’s body writhed beneath him. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t really Addison. He also had to remind himself that Addison would be the one to suffer any damage that he heaped on Bertrand. “You son of a bitch,” he cursed again with a little more force. He grabbed Addison-Bertrand!-by his shoulder and turned him around so that they were face to face. His knees locked on Bertrand’s-Addison’s…-- ribs to hold him in place. There would be bruises, he didn’t doubt that. He couldn’t afford to be softer though. Bertrand was trying to escape and take Addison’s body with him. He would kill Bliss and then there would be no hope of returning his friend. In that scenario he would lose both of his friends. He gripped the man beneath him by the collar of his shirt with one hand and punched him hard with the other. “You son of a bitch…” he breathed, relief shaking his body as the man’s struggling lessened.
break it up.
Reynard grabbed Addison’s wrist as the he tried to land another punch. “Stop it!” He yelled. Behind him Bliss was standing nervously with one of her hands tangled in her short hair. Addison tried to pull away but Reynard held on tight. “What’s wrong with you? What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded. Addison looked at him harshly before pulling his hand free. He rubbed his sore fist and looked down at the ground.
“You don’t understand. What else can I do? I can hear him thinking, thinking the most terrible things.” There was a sob in his chest that ached to get out but he wouldn’t let it. He didn’t want to seem hysterical. Well, more hysterical than he already must have seemed. When he looked up Reynard had a crestfallen, defeated look. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes filled with a sad desperation. Bliss looked like she was going to cry from her own guilt. Addison looked back at the ground. He hadn’t wanted them to feel bad for him. He just wanted them to let him do what needed to be done.
“We both know that Bertrand is a part of you now. That until Bliss can find out what needs to be done to remove him that he’s there, waiting until he gets a chance to dictate your actions. We know that, Addison, and we’re going to help you. If we haven’t given up on you then you can’t give up on you either.” Addison looked at his friend with a frown that somehow managed to keep his tears in. The swollen eye probably helped too.
“Here, let me put something on that,” Bliss said in a quiet voice as she rushed over and tenderly touched Addison’s self inflicted black eye.
weapons drawn.
Reynard drew the dagger out in front of him, holding it defensively to ward off the woman before him. Only she wasn’t a woman. There was a woman’s shape, the silhouette of someone beautiful and soft, but that was all. Looking straight at her he could see things that his mind grappled to understand. She was moving. Her skin was moving. It was crawling and changing. It seemed to be making noise as it did so. A humming. Or a buzzing. It was flies. Her skin was made of flies. The realization caused his stomach to flounder and his knees to grow wet and weak. “Stay back,” he warned. His voice wasn’t as convincing as he would have liked.
“You think you can hurt me, farm boy?” Her voice was cruel. It mocked him though he wasn’t sure how he could even understand it. The sound of the flies was maddening and the noise she made when she opened her mouth was wispy. She wasn’t really speaking. Or at least he didn’t think so. His head hurt from looking at her and trying to understand what she was. Stealthily he looked over at Bliss and Addison’s unconscious bodies. There had to be a way to save them. He wouldn’t let his woman kill them. He wouldn’t let this creature kill them.
“I know that I can at least try. Everything bleeds. Everything dies.” She seemed to smile at his dedication and whatever it was that he witnessed her face do made him sick. How could something like this exist? Something that was so obviously one thing but also so clearly another. He gripped his weapon tighter.
“Well,” she hummed, “aren’t you the foolish one.”
battle fury.
Addison watched as Reynard tore through the room. He lifted the mattress and then tossed it to the side. He pulled the drawers out of the little cabinet, ripped its small doors off its hinges. He broke the mirror with his elbow and threw the chair across the room into the wall. He was breaking everything, shattering anything he could get his hands on under the guise of searching for evidence. But they both knew there was nothing. Bliss was gone without a trace. That strange man had taken her and as Addison watched Reynard seething helplessly in the middle of the room the stranger had rented his heart broke.
“She’s gone,” he whispered. Reynard looked over at him, his hands red as the skin peeled off. He looked for something else to break or turn over but the room was already ruined. He yelled and then let himself sink to the floor in the middle of the debris he had created.
“She’s gone,” he admitted, resting his head in his hands in defeat.