Description: After the one-sided struggle between Ryu and Freeman, Vanessa arrives to merrily pick up the pieces. ...So to speak. Freeman's 'Last Hurrah,' with a healthy dose of not-rightness.
The small European town of Freeman's birth is rather simple; It is a mostly Christian population, very close to London but still far enough away to avoid any influx of people. A large river runs through the middle, and it's primarily a port economy. And within the dark of this night, near a dark stone church overlooking the calmly flowing waters, there's a flash of light and a horrendous crash.
Stained glass fragments rain down, Freeman within the midst, before his limp body impacts the water with a resounding splash.
People all around might of seen this finale, to what would appear to be Freeman's life; Yet after only ten minutes, near the shore just beside a warehouse and numerous scattered trees, the serial killer literally bursts up from the water in a chilling manner. Arms are limp, head bowed, as blood pours from his features. He looks significantly injured, yet somehow far more deadly then ever before. A black shimmer appears omnipresent around him, and almost casually glass is yanked out of his right eyebrow, allowed to fall within the water to be whisked away in a red ink cloud.
And then Freeman starts to slosh out, appearing to be dazed. Dead. His ploy was far too close to working /exactly/ as it planned. And somehow, that didn't seem to be such a bad occurance; Shock and confusion is the inward warping right now, although his grim and white shredded palor along his crimson locks make him truly appear to be the death he embraces as opposed to anything else...
Looks like Ryu ate him up pretty harshly.
One of these days, she'll get back at Ryu for taking away the fight that was rightly her's. For now, she's happy enough to stand at the ready, her eyes focussed on the man in front of her, her expression listless... lacking. She's followed him as far as she can, and here, it would appear as though they've reached the end of their odd little dance. She's followed this laughable little fight from start to finish, hanging in the backdrop, allowing the nomad to do what he felt was correct for justice and freedom and yadda...
...whatever.
So far as Vanessa's concerned, the real fight is here.
So she waits, tips of her shoes peppered by the apologetic lapping of the water along the shoreline.
"Well?" she says, without the customary swearing or snarling... without the usual grudges or fierce statements, though the anger lies underneath. Only this time the anger seems to be arbitrary-- wholly undecipherable. Instead, there's two following words that mark the rhyme and the reason for her appearance, all the while seeming as though it's simply a witless observation. Semantics.
"I'm here."
Breathing deeply, Freeman continues to slosh along the water. However Vanessa managed to trail him is up in the air; Maybe she tried to swim after his corpse. Maybe she ran down river. Such is inconsequential when compared to the simple fact that he's already been found out. After being almost killed, all for the ruse of some distorted manner of mental tranquility, for however brief a time, now Vanessa has once more destroyed all of his plans with little more then her presence.
Slowly, Freeman finally turns to regail her with a blank eye, black iris contracted to almost a pinpoint. His face manages to sneer in a disgustfully hateful manner; With no hesitation or undertones in the slightest. "Heh... You. Always you..."
And then of all things, he takes an unsteady step backwards. But still, there's something different. Something transient. He feels like he did within Jacob's apartment, when he finally found focus; Finally found the full grasp of death. If she did try to finish him off, she might get much more then she bargained for.
Only he makes a rather submissive comment instead, slowly grasping his left shoulder with a right hand. "Leave me alone... I'm... tired..." It's almost human. Almost. The tone is the only thing pleading -- every other facet of him retains the murderous edge he is known for.
Seems she's good at that.
Irregardless, the fact remains that she's here, her obsession with 'finalizing' things between the both of them causing her to make chase all the way back to this rather remote location. No one's aware of her having run after him-- the wharfs that surround them are derelicts, the lot of them containing forgotten cargo from when the piers, rickety and rotted away, used to see use from fishermen and the like. After all, with as small a channel (relatively speaking) as this particular portion of the river is, the commerce was likely too little to make the storage option worth it.
Fitting that they'd be here, then.
"You made it this way," she tells him, without hesitation or inflection. It simply is. "You played all the right cards and said all the right things. You said it yourself, Freeman... this is what you wanted to see."
She doesn't advance towards him just yet. She merely watches him from her positioning along the pier, failing to take any further steps onto the rotted boards. For now, her's is to watch and wait. Should be make haste to get out of here, he'll have a tough time eluding her like he did with Alex-- or at least she intends to make it so this is the case. She has no particular interest in letting him go this time-- and come hell or high water.. or -both-, as the case may be, given where they are and who it is she's confronting, she's not liable to back down.
"Now everyone's happy," comes the sardonic, listless sentiment soon thereafter.
Freeman merely remains standing for a few moments, arms hanging loosely at his sides with head bowed forward in a ripple of crimson hair. He teeters a bit to the right, crimson droplets splattering upon the ground from his sloped chin. And then, the somewhat saddened expression warps into a morbid grin. He raises his deadened eyes, the pupils warbling in an insane way.
"This is how /you/ want it..." is growled out, before blackness pools around his form. Every movement, no matter how subtle, causes a mind-bending flow of sillouettes. Arms cross over his chest, and he leans his head back. Clumps of hair pour away, but many are stuck clotted to the wounds on his face. "You want revenge. You want murder. And that admittance is all I yearned for, not the death. Yet my interest is gone, babe. You are no longer fun. I got what I wanted! If you want redemption, try it."
And then he merely begins to walk away, giggling inwardly with a hollow and wet sound as he slouches towards Vanessa, head seeming to be painfully lifted. Glazed and half-slitted eyes peer at her, before he then shifts his stance. "I can't let you live. I can't. You will ruin my retirement...!" And then he lances out, with a blur of speed. One hand attempts to clench Vanessa by the face, blood droplets trailing after the blurred movement. "You will ruin what I did to -RYU-...!"
COMBATSYS: Freeman has started a fight here.
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Freeman 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Vanessa has joined the fight here.
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Freeman 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Vanessa
COMBATSYS: Vanessa dodges Freeman's Quick Throw.
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Freeman 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Vanessa
And his arm clutches at the air, and he's completely off-balance; Freeman stumbles towards the wharfs, which are barely twenty hards off. Filled with the shadows he desires; There, as close in this realm to the feeling of blissful death, Vanessa will have no chance. All he needs to do is get her there...!
He may very well have that chance...
But not today. While his commentary earns a good amount of curiosity from the redhead in concerns to what he did to Ryu, she doesn't persue the line of inquiry. She has no interest in it. If he doesn't 'want' what he begged for, then it's that much better. Stepping to the side as Freeman comes rushing at her, the resultant stumble leaves him open-- at least, open enough for her purposes. She doesn't particularly care to continue dialoguing until she's reached her immediate goal. -Then-... the long-winded speeches can begin.
Reaching out to take hold of his shoulder, she means to whip him around to face her-- whether or not this is realized is another matter entirely.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits Freeman with Medium Punch.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Vanessa
The moment she's got him turned around, her fist comes down against his face, impacting -heavily- with his nose-- the force of the blow is meant to dizzy him as much as it is to -hurt- him, but this is only the beginning. Undoubtedly, they're gonna have a long, hard struggle before everything is said and done. And with Freeman acting as he is, he's not about to make it easy on her. Releasing him after the quick shot is made, she readies herself for an immediate retaliation, her gaze trained on his position.
The blow crashes across Freeman's face, nose exploding once more. Yet the additional blood is hard to notice, as his upper body whisks away and he bends over to the side at a grotesque angle. But his legs don't shift, and he appeared to simply absorb the blow more then anything. Actually, there was no attempt to evade; He tried to take it, even if he did a bit harder then intended. He rights himself immediately, and looks to be mostly unphased by that particular attempt.
"I will not be so easy this time..." is said, almost apologetic. "You are in my way." He spreads his arms to either side, lifting his head with eyes closed as this is stated. Apparently he's allowing her to hit him again, for whatever reason. But given the shifting of his aura, that is probably not the case.
From a nearby tree, crows suddenly burst into the air. Dozens of them; They then start to circle overhead at a disturbingly low altitude, causing a distracting windmill of sound. They have eyes as dark as Freemans; And they sense the same thing he does, one way or another.
Death.
COMBATSYS: Freeman focuses on his next action.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Vanessa
Damn near everything in the immediate area can sense it. One of the two is going to falter and give out by the time this is all over. While this should cause a moment of fear, Vanessa recognizes it as being the only logical conclusion to what they've been through together up until this point. A climax has to be reached, no matter how euphamistic, or even childish.
"And you're in mine," she says flatly, eyeing him quietly for the time being, taking the chance she can to gather her energy in the here and now. The birds overhead and the scraping of the overtly bloated bilge rats are, similarly, of no consequence. Any other day they'd serve as fodder for distraction, but their tendancies as scavengers only solidify this in her mind.
"One of us has to go, Freeman," she continues. "Even if it's me... it has to be someone." McFate wouldn't have it any other way, after all. There's scores to be settled, dues to pay, and every other cliche` bubbling up under the surface of their mutual game of cat and mouse-- though she turned into the aggressor near the end of it. "You wouldn't have kept me alive if you didn't recognize that."
COMBATSYS: Vanessa focuses on her next action.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Vanessa
Still, Freeman continues to stand there. His arms continue to hold outwards, head still bent backwards. He makes absolutely no move to assault, the occasional wind whipping about his clotted hair like he was some sinister scarecrow, instead attracting crows rather then scaring them away. The aura continues to move around subtley, no apparent fear or arrogance within the other figure. Nothing more leaves his lips. This standoff could last as long as Vanessa would let it -- but it's apparent she is going to have to make the first move. Almost disturbing -- moreso if she allowed the time to stretch into minutes rather then seconds... Only the buzz of the scavengers and the beating of hearts breaking the void of a quiet city night, even if sirens can be heard approaching the church.
COMBATSYS: Freeman focuses on his next action.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Vanessa
There's a few more moments of broken silence between the two, spoken word lapsed away as Vanessa eases off the last of the rotted boards of the pier, her eyes remaining centered on the man in front of her. There's no immediate flagging in her resolve-- it's as though both of them are resigned to whatever outcome is ahead of them. Nevermind that she knows better than that-- Freeman's tendancies all but denote that he'll fight passionately 'til the bloody end.
But so will she.
Springing into action, the motion that takes her forward barely looks possible. The sudden rush of forward momentum is fierce and sudden, her figure little more than a blur as she closes the distance between the both of them with little difficulty. Furthermore... the raise of her arm is difficult to see. From there...
COMBATSYS: Freeman fails to interrupt Puncher Vision from Vanessa with Nightmare.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Vanessa
Despite any attempted movements, the rush works -for- her. Once again, it's his face that's targetted, her swift motion forwards ending with a sharp punch across his jaw with a right hook-- once again, it's nothing nearly as powerful as it could be, but she's using what speed she -can- utilize to take control of the situation and lay him to waste with every little trick she can muster. She'll come out of this with a few more battlescars, but it should be worth it. Easing away from the attack, she's still too close to get out of the way of any oncoming blows-- but the response is largely up to him.
There's little that Freeman can do other then his initial ploy. But Vanessa had just as much time to focus, and apparently she's got the upper hand in speed for the time being. Freeman begins to move with an admittedly large amount of momentum, but it's not nearly enough. He's struck dead on, never even beginning to do the deadly motion that might aid in cutting this fight short. Every blow knocks him around like a half-dead ragdoll, but he only lurches, and takes barely a step backwards. He's still open for more -- much more. But he seems to be a tank today...
We'll see how long it lasts.
With either of them, really. Vanessa's aware enough of how the tables have turned in their fights prior to this. Making a couple quick paces to the side, the redhead's hands are still raised in her usual defensive posture, green eyes set on the killer in front of her as she debates her next manuever as best she can. There's a chance she can catch him offguard even moreso than last time-- but it's a slim opening.
"Keep this up and you're liable to disappoint me," she sneers at him, before swiftly moving into her next attack. Her hand lashes out to take a firm hold of his hair for the sake of yanking his head back-- something that could easily go against her favor in the end, but for now...
COMBATSYS: Freeman interrupts Machine Gun Puncher from Vanessa with Nightmare.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Vanessa
This time however, Freeman manages to unleash his assault as planned. Despite reeling away, his leg slides for balance before the punch hits him in the face. But he lances backwards in the same motion, blurs flowing after before then striking out like a viper. His jagged claw impacts Vanessa from the navel to the breast in an upwards-motion, both fighter's blood flashing into the air. He then drives forward, attempting to knock Vanessa backwards further to his goal -- the wharfs. "Enough words. This is beyond that. Show me if you deserve to live..." The crows begin to move faster, as does Freeman's whisking aura. He's growing stronger, not weaker...
It's done with ease. In spite of the give of his flesh beneath her fists, she can -sense- what's coming at her in the here and now, forced backwards by the sudden gash that erupts along her torso, the material of her shirt opening alongside the skin beneath it. The varitable outpouring of blood that comes from it is a familiar sensation-- one she resigned herself to. Managing to catch herself on one of her hands to rebound back to her foot with little trouble, she's still made to feel the powerful sting along the outer edges of the wound itself-- -minorly- grateful that they're moving further from the water.
Getting some of that bacteria into an open wound wouldn't be all that wonderful.
For once, however, he's right. This -has- gone beyond words. And thus, action is once again immediate. Springing back towards him in a dead run that closes the meager distance between them, she aims to take a firm hold of his throat, which, should it succeed, is used to throw him bodily towards the side of one of the buildings.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits Freeman with Forbidden Eagle.
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Freeman 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Vanessa
The second she's got him thrown heavily against the rusted aluminum of the small warehouse, the redhead chuckles lowly.
"Eye for an eye."
Keeping her hand against his throat, she procures something from her pocket that's difficult to see with the next manuever. The slickened click of metal sliding over metal can be heard as evidence of what it is is -felt-, the punch that's delivered coming with a harsh slice across the killer's chest, followed as it is by an amber streak of energy. The second hit comes the way it usually does, without the interference of the foreign switchblade which, once the action's completed, is placed neatly back into her pocket, the woman easing back as quickly as she can to evade any possible recursion. Not that she -will- -- but she can try.
Each of these moves strikes Freeman as strong as the other, but he merely endures the motions while lifting his arms overhead. It's obvious that he's not exactly reigning triumphant. But he was just completely trashed by Ryu, and only has his impossible focus and willpower to cling to the shreds of his crippled body. And then he assaults; The darkness appears to rush to his hands as a dark crimson builds, and as she begins to pocket the knife a crippling arc of dark energy surges at her. The air crackles, and the vorpal force attempts to strike Vanessa in the right collar; Hard enough to shatter it and split beyond the bone on a full hit, and if successful might do a good deal for resetting his stakes in this particular match.
"You are messing around... with death..." he hisses, not apparently impressed with the display of the knife. He barely spares this word in the first place though, not even raising back to his feet afterwards.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks Freeman's Phobia.
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Freeman 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Vanessa
She wasn't looking for him to be impressed, certainly. Nor is she looking to be impressed by his ferocity-- this fight is what it is. And this time, she refuses to leave him -without- some slicing damage of his own to drag himself away from. Besides... the knife serves more than just one purpose.
But that, for now, is neither here nor there. Raising either of her arms to deflect the damage of the attack, the energy that slams into her still causes an audible sound to come from her, partway between a whimper and a grunt, given the intonations that it ranges through. Her arms -want- to give way to it, but thankfully, the damage is taken in stride, without incurring any nasty side-effects. Like bones snapping.
That'd just ruin her whole damn night.
With that done, Vanessa remains where she is unless Freeman's skirted out of the way, keeping him -relatively- pinned against the wall of the shack, though it could backfire at any second. Almost did, from what she can see.
Irregardless, it's time for something with a bit more power. And in this case, it seems as though making quick grabs at him is the best way to initiate the attacks. In this case, it's his hair she goes for.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits Freeman with Puncher Weaving.
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Freeman 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Vanessa
Once she's got him, Vanessa drags him to his feet and thrusts him back against the wall again, keeping a firm hold of his hair as four hits come in in rapid succession. The first slam of her fist digs her knuckles into he opened trench along his chest, her fist twisting just enough to irritate the wound a second time before the three remaining blows come up against his face, battering down on him with a merciless edge. Once finished, she releases his hair, letting him slump, move, flail... whatever it is he'd like to.
This one hurts him. Something gives below those fingers, apparently in his skull. He genuinely collapses to his knees, hands whipping out to brace him upon the ground. He's never had good luck against Vanessa; She's always been annoying in that regard, and his fingers clench the dirt. He's so close to what he desires; The darkness. That is what he needs. It's too light out here. FAR too light.
One arm lances out, attempting to grasp Vanessa by the chest in a firm hold. It's slow, lazy, and not particularly intimidating in the slightest. More like a disgusting grope then anything else, actually; The ravens, however, are beginning to focus on Freeman. Apparently he's the one they think will die -- how deliciously foreboding. In a bad way.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks Freeman's Morbid Angel.
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Freeman 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 Vanessa
In a deft motion, he then flips over Vanessa's back; Finger clawing upwards to clench her shoulder, before lancing out his hand towards her lower back, trying to split her spine in two. Likely fatal, so good it does not go through; still, he strikes out with his foot to strike her within the black shadows between a storage basin and the warehouse proper -- leaping into it regardless of his success...
With the move offset by the sudden seizing of her chest, Vanessa's more taken aback than anything else-- which is what immediately draws her into some form of pain. The clawing of his fingers drags her immediately out of her surprise, and she jerks immediately to the side with every ounce of effort she can put into it, the side of her arm taking the worst of the blow that's aimed at her spine. Grunting audibly as she's jerked somewhat to the side, leaving her open to being shoved bodily into the darkened warehouse, the puddles and various algea underfoot causing for an upswing of pain along her front-- given that's how she's landed.
Raising immediately back up to her feet... she takes only a moment to figure out where he is in all of this, preparing herself to launch the next attack against him. It shouldn't be long now...
The moment his silhouette is spotted, she's back into motion, attemping to catch him in an outright tackle that'll send them both rolling against the hard, mold-encrusted concrete of the warehouse floor.
COMBATSYS: Freeman fails to counter Champion Puncher from Vanessa with Creeping Death.
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Vanessa 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Freeman can no longer fight.
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Vanessa 0/-------/------=|
The moment she's got him and the little bout of rolling around with one another comes to a conclusion, she pins him down as she did in Jacob's hotel room and gets to work. The battery of punches slams his head -hard- against the floor with each crack of her fist-- a manuever that he's undoubtedly familiar with by now. Once it's -finished-... she stays where she is, her hand venturing into the pocket of her blazer as she leans over him, her hand placed on the side center of his chest to keep him down. Funny... he's got more than enough chance to lash out with his arms if he wants to.
Seems she's affording him some meager leeway.
"...You know why I'm here," she says gently. "Have any thoughts on that?"
And Freeman didn't have enough time to prepare himself. Not enough time to summon the energy he needed to strike Vanessa into death. He appears to realize this in the very midst of his beating, offering no resistance as he's struck around in a rather comical fashion. His sheer will dissipates, and the tremendous wounds catch up with him. He goes absolutely limp, and even with her hand grasping his chest it might be difficult to hold him up. The crows above begin circling faster. Faster. Black feathers flow down, swirling around the pair as Freeman then slowly raises his arms upwards. The energy within him releases, but it seems to merely dissipate instead of anything else. Relieved, he then goes slack.
And a single sentence leaves his lips. "I am tired. Do it. Set me free..." Almost imploring. Most disturbing, this appears to be more a final moment of lucidity as opposed to insanity. His pleading eyes are not black, but a deep and almost pleasant brown. He looks like he will doubtlessly die anyway -- the beating he has taken is absolutely ungodly...
So here it is. The moment of truth.
With the answer that she's given, Vanessa can't help but feel a faint chill run through her, but it's brief. She's already gotten a taste of what killing for good reason is like-- already gotten a good idea what kind of power the murderer has weilded up until this point. While part of her still balks at the idea of what's about to take place, she's been primed for this moment since the very beginning of their interactions with one another.
"No more words?" she asks, then, her interest sincere, without any hint towards the idea of hesitation. He'd be an out and out idiot not to realize that she doesn't mean to back away from him and leave him hanging from this moment. Draw it out, yes... make him -beg-? Possibly. It's not impossible. "Surely you've got some epitaph to offer."
There is no begging. Instead, there seems to be an internal struggle. Freeman's eyes begin to warble around his iris, and the darkness is returning. Hands strike out, trying to grasp her by the shoulders. This motion, this desperate attempt, is as close as she is going to get to him begging. But despite being such an absolute monster, it might still be painful on a deep and gutteral level to watch. Blood soaks into her clothing from his fingers, head slowly slouching forward. "...At least let me die like this..." The final word he can say.
And above, the crows appear to have shifted. Something is different. There's a number of vicious caws, and a few drop dead from the air, impacting the ground around the pair. A supernatural and inhuman feeling lingers in the air, more like the graze of a god then anything a mortal might be capable of wielding...
Determined though she may be, she's not heartless.
Vanessa knows pain, knows loss-- and in this, can at least grant him one favor in the here and now. Understanding is something of a burden from time to time-- and as of right now, that understanding is what guides her next actions. First, the hand on his chest raising to the back of his head, cradling it in an oddly intimate fashion, the descent of her lips coming against his dirtied forehead, the lingering contact broken only for her eyes to come directly into contact with his own.
"Fair enough," she says, her tone little more than a whisper.
Moving forward again, her lips come to pass against his, the chill in her system becoming all the more poignant in that moment. This is a memory that will be looked back upon in nightmares alone-- but it seems necessary. There's the cool press of metal along his chin that trails along the side of his neck until it's right up against his jugular, the distance between them closed with not only a kiss-- but the sudden, violating introduction of cold steel lancing upwards into the slim column of his throat. To her credit-- or to her morbid wish to make this uncomfortable for him, dependant on how he takes the intimate gesture that's granted-- that kiss is held even as the knife slices through the skin and veins beneath, creating a deep slit that runs from his jaw to the junction of neck and shoulder. A wound she's certain he won't soon survive.
And it's here she holds him. Until he breaks the bond or loses all of his energy.
Heh.
'Til death do us part, mn?
This is something of an interesting last encounter for Freeman. And maybe most fraught of all, it's the first kiss he ever had. While under the familiar bite of the bladed weapons he loves, sinking in as the final flow of blood begins to flow. But he doesn't appear to be losing strength in the slightest -- instead, it appears to be growing. Fingers clench tighter, and finally he shoves Vanessa away with enormous violence, and merely slouches in the same zombielike manner.
Why is he doing this? Is this some final gamble?
...No.
From above, in a literal storm of feathers and slashing beaks, the entire swarm of crows lands upon Freeman. Wings flutter around, and his form can be vaguely seen, arms held out as if embracing something unseen. The sound of the ensemble of deathly scavengers is unholy -- yet Freeman never screams.
Rats scurry from the darkness, leaping for his legs. Spiders crawl from holes, deathwatch beetles from beneath crates. For a solid ten seconds, in what might cause much worse nightmares for Vanessa then the act of killing, he is alive with creatures that thrive upon death.
And then in a burst, all are gone. The animals scatter in all directions. The crows flit high into the air. Beetles and spiders vanish in the cracks upon the wharf's wooden-planked ground. For a moment before this, the amorphous shape of the serial killer ripples before completely vanishing.
And then there's a soft clink; As his drill-bit necklace, somehow completely unstained and untarnished, impacts the ground with an anticlimatic thud...
Shoved backwards with ease, Vanessa is shocked out of her reverie by the sudden show of strength from the man, preparing to get back up to her feet immediately-- until, of course, the unholy rain of vermin begins to swarm past her. The sickly pelts of rats, the tickling legs of spiders-- too many for her mind to handle as being anything but surreal. While there's fear that grips her, it's just as suddenly brought to an immediate end, the supernatural occurance that drowns out the serial killer's being bringing light to more fascination than anything else.
The fear of it, the very -human- emotion of it, will come later. For now, her eyes refuse to leave the spectacle that's in front of her until it disperses.
All of it.
And only now can she feel her stomach turn, her jaw tightening. She did what was necessary, but to what end? ...What on earth will come of something as twisted and surreal as what she's just witnessed? Taking a couple short breaths, the look of the drillbit necklace falling to the ground all but bidding her to take hold of it. To at least retrieve a momento, just as he had. One last favor.
One last... what? Act of spite?
No. There was something too important about this to just let it lie here. Getting unsteadily to her feet, her stomach still in knots at the fantastic display that unfurled in front of her. It doesn't stop her from stooping to pick up the necklace that's fallen, her fingers turning it over as she gives it a long, scrutinizing look. Something tells her, despite having his blood running down the front of her shirt and blazer... despite the taste of blood that erupted in her mouth from the bubbling up of the liquid in his throat... that this is far from over.
"Be seeing you," she offers to the empty air of the warehouse, her tone enfeebled, without inflection or feeling. It simply is.
Log created by Vanessa, and last modified on 11:56:29 06/13/2005.