Vengence

Goddess of Fire · Goddess of Flames

Vengence

Ashes Of Faith · Lukois' Lucifer

Mornings for him were a time of great peace. A new day with nothing in it, a blank slate where his mind from the previous day could be emptied of all thought with a little poolside meditation and a gallon of thick Turkish coffee. Being back into a daily grind of working and trying one dead body at a time to make the world a place more orderly was something that kept him sane. So it was that he felt a certain surge of energy each day when he left the house, draped in a clean pressed suit, strapped with weapons and ready to face the world. That morning was like any other until he opened the door and that smell reached him. Ash stopped in his tracks, not bothering to look down he closed his eyes for a moment and felt the red hot wave of anger that was his closest friend surge over him. It took a moment before he could open his eyes and finally crouch down to lift the box, hands tentative as he lifted it and felt the odd weight of whatever was inside. The blood he could smell, dry and stale, something that would flake and then melt on the tongue, but what exactly it was he didn't know.

Carrying the box with him he closed the front door softly behind him so that no one inside the house would get a whiff of his little present. A wooden bench was set on the veranda and that was where he sat, placing the box on the table and just looking at it for a moment. He had gotten similar packages over the years. Serial killers who found it a thrilling thing to taunt the one who hunted them. Ash found it thrilling to find them and pay them back in turn. This felt different though, he was getting a tingling sensation that ran up and down his back making the hair on his arms stand on end. Finally he reached out and undid the ribbon on the box, letting it fall away as he lifted the lid. From within he pulled out the length of hair, holding it by two fingers carefully, as though it were evidence at a crime scene. But this was evidence that would never see a lab. After a moment he clutched it in his fist, feeling the ribbon, slimy and slick between his palm and fingers. Without letting himself think about it too much he pulled out the second item, unfolding the paper until he could see the finger that was inside, the ring around it, and the muscle in his jaw clenched tightly.

For several moments he sat and just looked at that finger, the clean white bone that protruded from one end, and a fingernail half ripped off that was still painted deep crimson. His thumb stroked the length of the slim digit a few times before lifting it, the paper sticking to it from the underside from the blood that had seeped through and dried into a gelatinous goo. Seperating the paper he carefully pulled the ring off the finger, turning it over in his hands before lifting it to his mouth and licking it clean, the taste of blood filled his mouth with coppery richness and his eyes closed again. In his head he could hear screaming, feel the chains of silver that held him down, smell the musty scent of death that had clung to the walls in that place. Evil was on the islands, an evil that knew no bounds. For it was the vampires who called him Vengence and no one else. It was those creatures of darkness that knew his name, and it was by that name this had been delivered.

Hearing the noises of rising from inside he placed the items back in the jewelry box and slipped it into his pocket, a bit large but soon he would be able to hide it in the secret compartment at the inside of the Hummers wheel well. Standing he began to move towards his car, and on the way he pulled the cell phone out of his breast pocket, flipping it open and dialing a number he knew by heart.

"Evie, I need your help."

-- Edited by Ashes Of Faith at 19:44, 2008-02-06

Evie North · Telemetric Trickster

Evie was not and had never been a morning person. Even when she had still been accepting job offers from around the country, she hadn't gotten out of bed before ten at the earliest. Maybe it was the vampire she was attached to that kept her up on late nights and had her asleep during others' waking hours. She'd tell herself that, even though she'd been that way before she'd stepped foot within the same city as Marcus. More likely than anything, it was the nightmares that seemed to have come wrapped in the same glittery package as her abilities. She'd seen enough to give her a little insomnia, and therefore, a little break.

Hawaii, however, had brought with it a slightly new Evie. She was sleeping better, waking up earlier. Not anywhere near the crack of dawn, but ten o'clock was earlier than noon. She felt better about herself on this new schedule, even though she was still a night owl to the extreme. Lucky for Ash, this change in sleeping patterns was the reason for her answering the phone. Normally she would silence the damn thing and then throw it out of the nearest window, but this time, she actually answered when the cell began to vibrate. Rolling over onto her back in her bed and bringing the white fluffy comforter with her, she saw on the screen a familiar name calling as her gloved hands plucked the cell phone from the bedside table. Putting the receiver to her ear as she pressed the green button, Evie yawned out a relaxed, "g'morning, sunshine ..." Apparently, not a good morning for long.

"Evie, I need your help."

She sat up, suddenly very awake, grey eyes scanning the room for intruders as she answered in a low voice, "what's happened." Was it Marcus? He had been gone for a long time now, and her mind couldn't help but slide to him first. And after that, to the rest of the extended family. Silent, Dakota, Coyote, Valcrist ... any of them could have been in trouble. Hurt or ... damn it. Her mind was already starting to go to the worst ideas.

Rubbing at her eyes, she cleared her throat, trying to hope for the best but expect the worse. "What do you need help with?" She was on board already, no questions asked. Jumping out of bed, Evie was grabbing a pair of jeans with one gloved hand, trying to wriggle into them with her cellphone still pressed to her ear. The black tank-top she wore to sleep would do if she had to run out of the apartment without warning, and her shoes were next to the door where she'd kicked them off. All she needed was instructions and a destination, and she'd be the cavalry. A one-girl, reckless-yet-introverted cavalry. They were so screwed.

-- Edited by Evie North at 01:17, 2008-02-07