3 Sanctuary Drabbles - Writen In Class
Title: Weak Links
Author: Japanese and Chocolate
Summary: Prompt - Carabina. Helen’s connections to the world. Pre-Haunted.
Helen had for so long been above it all. As her culture changed into something unrecognisable, her friends died, she remained timeless. Isolated. Connected to the world by so few. With Ashley gone, the solid ground beneath her crumbling, she relied upon those connections more than ever. Still, these ties strained and snapped. Only one could be relied upon, one that joined all others together, making single weak threads into a rope to keep her from falling.
Ironically, this person was the most unreliable dangerous and weak among her acquaintances. The one who would drop her if given a choice.
John.
Title: ‘Till the End
Author: Japanese and Chocolate
Summary: Prompt - a national flag. Helen takes a flight.
Helen always got a jolt of excitement when boarding an international flight. More like a 16 year old than a 160 year old. No matter if business, pleasure or gruesome bodies awaited her when she landed, she always found it an interesting experience.
It was possibly because flying to another country simply wasn’t possible in her youth. To travel such distances required a long arduous journey by sea. She glanced down at her passport whil preparing to board and frowned. “American Citizen”. It was true that she had spent more time abroad, or in her Sanctuary in Old City, than in England, but to see it printed on her passport was annoying.
“Would you like some coffee?” The overly happy stewardess asked.
“Tea will be fine thank you.”
She would always be British.
Title: Solitary
Author: Japanese and Chocolate
Summary: Prompt - padded cell. The aftermath of John’s capture. Post Haunted. AU.
White. White. White.
He would close his eyes if only to escape the monotony of the pure, blinding white walls. But images behind his eyes haunted him even more. So he continued to stare at the white.
It was quite unexpected. The three of them surrounded him, and with a sharp pain in his shoulder, he was gone. He awoke thinking he was in a cloud. It was so soft. White and pure. Heaven, with his dark angel leaning over him. As the drugs cleared from his system he was able to take in her lab coat, the locked door, the regret in her eyes. He was not dead, not free of his torment.
He was still slave to the creature, but not for much longer.