hai mươi tám ❀| but the darkness has a hunger; it offers you blood for wild blood

[lotuslife]

[The day wears on, and long streaks of golden light are starting to settle across Mayfield as the sun begins to set. Downtown, there's someone casting a long shadow as they walk slowly down the street. It's a young woman; she's dragging something large and unwieldy. Whatever it is, it's leaving a long, dark smear on the road as it's pulled along- a

Comments

Blanket permission for everything

[muskatli]

[She'd just about finished making her rounds, the unexpected rounds that came in the most un-festive like morning of Christmas. It had started with the awful disposal of that unpleasant, unwanted Christmas gift, descending into multiple stops at equally distressed households.

When Hungary's finally done, finally ready to get home, she does notice the thin trail of blood on the asphalt leading up the street. But it's nothing out of the ordinary on this particular day, right?]

[muskatli]

[When the gun goes off this time amidst their grappling and struggle for control, it goes right into Vietnam's chest. Another wasted bullet, Hungary's strained, air starved body tells her.

She barely stands up in time after that, the gun pointed at the other's face the only thing separating them as Hungary gasps for breath.]

[lotuslife]

[Again, the bullet is absorbed in a way that should be completely impossible; Vietnam holds her hand to the quickly-closing wound in her chest and narrows her eyes as the hunger for blood sinks its claws deeper into her mind, telling her to kill Hungary now, to tear her open and drink, drink, drink-

But she's staring a gun in the face now.

Suddenly, she smiles.]

Shoot me. [She points to her forehead.]

[muskatli]

[She knows this now. She's knows Vietnam is not the same. This is someone else, and not a nation she could have justified killing in war or in a siege. They never kill out of spite. She can't pull the trigger and damn Vietnam's people.

But her hands are trembling and she wants to survive. She doesn't want to die she doesn't want to lose she wants her own people safe but she doesn't want to kill this not-person and her fingers are trembling but Hungary has never missed a shot in her life but her hands are shaking too much.

The shot rings out.]

[lotuslife]

[Hungary's shot meets its mark, right through her head, through her right eye. Vietnam staggers back, her hands lifting to her head, and her guess is confirmed: it doesn't matter. She can feel the flesh bubbling and healing right beneath her palms, and she begins to laugh.] Ahaha-- ahahaha-!

[She looks up, and one half of her face is a mangled, bloody mess, but it's fixing itself within seconds, contorting and changing and it's still twisting as she moves towards Hungary.] I wasn't sure, but I got lucky. I didn't think it would work...

[muskatli]

[An incredulous part of her feels a surprising burst of relief, not different to Vietnam's if not as gloating. At least she hasn't harmed the real thing. The rest of her is pure, frustrated anger.]

You don't deserve to live. You didn't.

[lotuslife]

[After several more seconds, her face has healed entirely, and her eye is as good as new.]

Don't worry, chị. You'll be back good as new tomorrow.

[And with that, she brings her claw back and swings it down and across Hungary's throat.]

[muskatli]

[Where it merely burns before, now it stings all over, like boiling oil poured down her throat. Hungary falls to her knees at first, hands clutching at her neck. They soon go limp along, along with her shoulders, back, and legs. She's too human like this to hold on to life as stubbornly as she wants to.]

[lotuslife]

[She gazes at Hungary in an unsympathetic manner, as if contemplating her.

And then she reaches out, grabs her head in both monstrous-looking hands, and snaps her neck in one swift, simple movement.]

[muskatli]