Moving from one warehouse to the next. [COMPLETE]
Who: Ema Skye, Dante
Where: Warehouse district
When: After Ema's rape at the hands of Matt
What: Ema runs into a bit of decent luck for a change, and Dante is completely confused as to how to help her.
Notes: This is between two of my characters, and it's a short log. Honestly, I just dreamt this up at work and couldn't resist.
It felt like she had spent years in that place.
Slowly, painfully, she gathered herself and dressed. Panties, bra, shirt, pants, shoes. No shower, just dressing. She tied her knotted hair back behind her, not even bothering to detangle it.
What was the point?
It surprised her how difficult it was to move, but with great effort she finally reached the door. She turned the handle and opened it; it was unlocked now. Too little, too late.
She stumbled into the street. Where she was headed, she hadn't a clue--she just couldn't stay in there. Not with him.
Waiting for her was a hooded figure. She couldn't see his--her? its?--face, but he seemed to be smiling. "You know, Miss Skye, if you had just spread those pretty legs sooner, he would have been more gentle. It wouldn't hurt your body and soul so much."
She just whimpered, drawing in and walking past the figure. The figure followed, still speaking to her. "Miss Skye, we can stop the pain."
She stopped.
"I have your attention, Miss Skye?" The figure moved, now standing in front of her. He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "We can make it so your body won't hurt, no matter what Matt does to you. We can get rid of the ache in your soul. Just give in to us, and we'll help you." The words were... magnetic. It would be nice not to have to worry... not to hurt... not to feel.
Already, she was drawn in. The broken ones were so easy to tempt.
"Just relax and close your eyes, Miss Skye, and we'll let you talk to the Preacher...."
A gunshot broke the silence, but she hardly noticed. She just let everything melt away into blackness.
Where: Warehouse district
When: After Ema's rape at the hands of Matt
What: Ema runs into a bit of decent luck for a change, and Dante is completely confused as to how to help her.
Notes: This is between two of my characters, and it's a short log. Honestly, I just dreamt this up at work and couldn't resist.
It felt like she had spent years in that place.
Slowly, painfully, she gathered herself and dressed. Panties, bra, shirt, pants, shoes. No shower, just dressing. She tied her knotted hair back behind her, not even bothering to detangle it.
What was the point?
It surprised her how difficult it was to move, but with great effort she finally reached the door. She turned the handle and opened it; it was unlocked now. Too little, too late.
She stumbled into the street. Where she was headed, she hadn't a clue--she just couldn't stay in there. Not with him.
Waiting for her was a hooded figure. She couldn't see his--her? its?--face, but he seemed to be smiling. "You know, Miss Skye, if you had just spread those pretty legs sooner, he would have been more gentle. It wouldn't hurt your body and soul so much."
She just whimpered, drawing in and walking past the figure. The figure followed, still speaking to her. "Miss Skye, we can stop the pain."
She stopped.
"I have your attention, Miss Skye?" The figure moved, now standing in front of her. He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "We can make it so your body won't hurt, no matter what Matt does to you. We can get rid of the ache in your soul. Just give in to us, and we'll help you." The words were... magnetic. It would be nice not to have to worry... not to hurt... not to feel.
Already, she was drawn in. The broken ones were so easy to tempt.
"Just relax and close your eyes, Miss Skye, and we'll let you talk to the Preacher...."
A gunshot broke the silence, but she hardly noticed. She just let everything melt away into blackness.