(Untitled)
Characters: The kidnapped victims and their rescuers
When: March 12th
Where: The Ritual grounds
Rating: ?
Summary: Rhode is dead and the ritual failed. Lucifer's gone. The coma victims are waking up.
( Woke up this morning was feeling quite weird )
When: March 12th
Where: The Ritual grounds
Rating: ?
Summary: Rhode is dead and the ritual failed. Lucifer's gone. The coma victims are waking up.
( Woke up this morning was feeling quite weird )
Comments 71
His fingers claw the side of the grave as he tries, frantically, to pull himself out, but they catch on flesh -- blood -- gore --
Panic rises in his throat as he realizes where he is.
He's underground.
"No," Zuko hisses with a choke and he kicks upward with a vicious force to get himself unburied and out of there.
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It's easy enough to recognize -- granted, she had most often heard it before they were allied together, when Zuko screamed in anger more than anything else, but that doesn't change the fact that she recognizes the scream.
Screaming means he's alive. Screaming means he's awake, and she's panting for breath as she surges toward the graves in the ritual grounds. It wasn't an easy fight against Rhode, and she's exhausted, even if she's not the one who delivered either killing blow.
Instead, she's just looking for his grave.
"Zuko! Zuko, say something!"
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There's only a moment or two more before he retches.
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"It's alright. You're safe. We took care of them."
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He tries to pull himself upright, but he's met with something soft, slippery, cold. His nails dig in, not yet realizing how wrong it is to be catching on something like this when he's in a hole.
His heels are digging into the flesh beneath him, hands grasping for a handhold anywhere he can find it, but for a moment it's difficult to even get up.
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The first thing he notices is that its dark, the air heavy and full of a stench that makes his stomach churn. His hands go up, pressing above him, trying to figure out what it is that's making this so dark, but his hands meet something... solid.
Instantly, panic wells inside him. No. No no no no NO. Suddenly, he's gasping, panic rising, making his chest constrict as he starts clawing desperately at whatever's above him, squirming and flailing in the bed of... something squishy. Wet. He can feel it seeping in through his clothes, messing up his hair.
But none of that stops him from starting to shriek at the top of his lungs, tears welling in his eyes and spilling over almost instantly. This is the stuff of horror movies. Stuff like this didn't happen in real life. It just... didn't. Yet here he was, clawing and pushing at what's above him so much he can feel his ( ... )
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Asuna whips Ensis Exorcizans out of the way and mismatched eyes stares down at Kurt, mouth opens lightly in horror.
Wrong grave. She had been looking for Negi -- but locating Kurt is just as important, for Rachel and Blaine's sake, anyway.
"Grab my hand," Asuna orders, reaching down quickly to grab onto Kurt, to pull him up into fresh air.
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Almost instantly, he's on his knees, choking a bit as his body finally just gives up, trying to vomit, but not really having anything in him nor the energy to actually do it.
Otherwise, he's just collapsing onto his side, teeth chattering from the terror still gripping him, eyes screwed shut. He'll thank you later, Asuna. Right now... he just can't even function.
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"We've got them, Kurt, no one's going to hurt you anymore," Asuna muttered quietly, fingers digging into his shoulder slightly to calm him down. "Breathe, you've just got to -- "
It's then that Asuna sees the holes, sees what's inside them. Her eyes widen almost to the size of sauces.
"Dammit."
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It isn't a dramatic motion at first. Just a subtle one. Her eyelids flutter open slowly, as if atrophied from a lack of use. They have been closed for an entire week, after all. There's a sharp intake of breath as she begins to fully regain consciousness, and the only thing she feels for the moment is massive disorientation. Is this real? Or is this another dream? Or were they even dreams?
Her eyes don't do her much good in this place. She has been plunged into darkness. The only sound that fills the silence is her own breathing. But there's a smell, a horrible smell, that overpowers her. She sends a hand to her nose and mouth in a botched attempt to block it out, coughing uncontrollably from the force of it.
She has to get out of here. Whatever the hell this place is. It doesn't matter if it's actually objectively real or not ( ... )
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Eventually, the sight of Spike's hands drenched in blood becomes too annoying. Out of nowhere a shovel appears in Fran's hands. He holds it for just a second, before silently handing it to Spike.
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Spike. He's here. And he's alive. He's not dead. He's not---
Maybe this is a dream. Maybe what she saw back there was reality. But something tells her it wasn't, that this is what's reality. Even if it isn't, she wants to believe it. That image of him hanging there dead jumps back to the forefront of her mind, haunting her, and she shuts her eyes furiously in an attempt to drive it out.
She opens her mouth to respond, to let him know that she's here, dammit, but the words won't come. Her throat is dry and constricted, and her vocal cords won't respond. Another deep breath of that foul stench sends her into a coughing fit, and she knows that if she doesn't get herself out of here before much ( ... )
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He was shaking bad, hyperventilating with no way to calm himself. He remained where he was buried, with animal parts all around him. These things that Sasuke would normally notice he didn't. He was too scared. Too traumatized to register where he was and what just happened to him.
He would have to be dragged out.
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He couldn't use Hyourinmaru nor could he cast kidou for fear of injuring Sasuke, and so without a second thought, he dropped to his knees and began digging with his hands. When he finally broke through, he completely disregarded the gory contents of the grave in order to lean in and grasp Sasuke's shirt, tugging him upward as hard as he could.
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Come on, Sasuke. Any acknowledgment, any recognition. Anything at all.
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