Comments | thedollsyhouse: Love is not a victory march [Active/Open]

maybeanangel in thedollsyhouse

Love is not a victory march [Active/Open]

Mar 21, 2010 21:46

Characters: Story, Open
Setting: Public Restrooms
Time: Very early Night 17
Summary: Story wakes up, recognizes the house but can't remember things
Warnings: Hellhounds

( It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah )

!night 017, story (lady in the water), *acedia, hugo stiglitz (inglourious basterds)

Comments 20

deinennazihoden March 23 2010, 18:08:28 UTC

Hugo was prowling the halls, already in a state of high alert. It was making him miss France, where at least in-between the vicious fights for your life you could go and take a piss without nearly dying.

Here, however, it seemed like every turn concealed something else he needed to either kill or run from, and the trip to the restrooms was no different. He jerked his gun up to point at the Hellhounds, panting and trying to count the numbers of cartridges he still had. Dammit, he had to take a piss. Why was everything in this house so difficult?

maybeanangel March 23 2010, 19:25:36 UTC

Story cowered by the wall, her arms wrapped around her head in a sorry attempt to protect herself. She figured if she was going to get hurt by what ever it was at the door, she didn't want to see it happen so, Story clenched her eyes shut and curled into a ball.

Then she heard it. Someone was coming down the hall. Story looked up shakily at the door. The thing was still out there but someone, or something, on two legs was too.

Story wanted to cry out for help but she couldn't; her throat was seized with terror. So, she did all she could, and reached one arm forward to the door, trying to communicate with who(what)ever was out there to help her.

ff just noticed my html fail. *wins at life* deinennazihoden March 25 2010, 00:51:55 UTC

Hugo wasn't about to play nice or wait just to see what the Hellhounds would do. He lived by the rules of shoot first, ask later, and that was what he did. He opened up a brief spray of machine gun fire on the beasts, the noise loud and abrasive.

maybeanangel March 25 2010, 03:03:50 UTC

The loud, sudden shots of what Story knew instinctively to be a machine gun startled a scream from her, unfreezing her voice. Her hands shot up to cover her ears against the noise.

The growling and the snarling had stopped, whatever had the gun had killed the beast (the scrunt...) and Story was able to breath a little easier. One less danger, but possibly one more stood at the door with a weapon known for killing humans by the dozen.

Thread 20