Her insults only left her in Charon's grip when Ahzrukhal gave the sharp whistle, and like a dog beckoned to attack Charon wrestled the girl's arms behind her back with ease she should have been ashamed of. Her struggle was mute, and perhaps half-hearted.
She went with little trouble, and Charon had enough time to inhale the scent off her hair and memorize the feel of her bare arms in his mangled palms.
Later, in his corner, Charon realized she smelt good enough to eat.
She groaned lamely and twisted, bending awkwardly before rolling on her back with a seething sound.
Despite it all, Charon watched her wince and sit up; abdomen tightening to pull her bound wrists and upper body up into a slumped sitting position. Her sweaty hair hung tangled around her shoulder and cheeks. Stains of tears ran down her face in hidden lines, making the hard creases around her eyes stick out even more. There was little innocence there anymore...not like the kind she'd brought in on her first visit to this place.
She didn't speak as Ahzrukhal bent around the table, taking the knife to her wrists. She only flinched and looked up at Charon. Her lower lip quivered, but she stared with those brown eyes; digging into Charon's estranged ones – he knew even before she moved that cutting her binds was the stupidest decision Ahzrukhal had ever made...maybe would ever make.
Charon knew she was fast, but the way she twisted – once her arms were free – was with the speed of a resolute animal; every muscle bunched and loosened perfectly as her head made contact with Ahzrukhal's on a dull smack. Her hands dislodged the knife, swiped upwards, cut and then stabbed into the pulmonary artery in Ahzrukhal's neck. Only after the fact did Charon manage to react at all, conditioning forcing his hand; grabbing at her ankle to pull her back with enough force to dislocate her foot, but she kicked fast enough to smack his head back, making him stumble as she flopped off the table.
She squabbled for purchase, naked and quick on the bloody floor to the gasping, dying Ahzrukhal. Her fingers emptied pockets and fumbled, turning a quick look to catch Charon flip the table over with a growl. She killed Ahzrukhal, and now she was to be killed. He would make it quick...make it very quick, but she. Had. To. Die. Now.
She had to die....until...
“Stop!”, she ordered, and Charon stopped. Stained in her own blood and Charon's...former...employer's, she sat on Ahzrukhal's trembling body with the slip of paper gripped tight in her shivering fist.
Charon eyed the sight; mind unable to process everything aside from the fact that he'd been ordered to stop. The urge to strangle her to death vanished completely, but the guilt of what he'd previously done to her swam high to the surface; high enough that he nearly vomited.
“Th-...” she swallowed and gasped, finally breathing hard after the feat she'd just committed, “This is it.” She was referring to his contract and he nodded 'yes'. “Then...sit down...” - and he sat in the chair behind him with a 'thud', feeling the energy drain out of him the second his legs relax. Perhaps she'd force him off a cliff now, or outside where the mutant would rip him apart.
Carefully he eyed her, watching as she caught her breath and tried to get to her knees.
“I can assist you,” he said, purposefully lacking emotion when she slipped in a pool of blood.
“Don't touch me!” she hissed like he'd actually done so, for her hands went to hold her arms protectively, “I mean...” she started, pulling in a lungful of air before letting it out, “...just let me get up on my own.”
And she did, eventually, get up on her own, holding the edge of the table to support her buckling knees. She pointed to her bunched up pants on the floor and Charon bent to grab them, handing them to her at arm's length. He watched her put them on; one leg at a time with a pinched face. The blood between her legs made him swallowed a sudden rush of saliva.
Charon/F!LW "To Do As You're Told" 10/?
She went with little trouble, and Charon had enough time to inhale the scent off her hair and memorize the feel of her bare arms in his mangled palms.
Later, in his corner, Charon realized she smelt good enough to eat.
She groaned lamely and twisted, bending awkwardly before rolling on her back with a seething sound.
Despite it all, Charon watched her wince and sit up; abdomen tightening to pull her bound wrists and upper body up into a slumped sitting position. Her sweaty hair hung tangled around her shoulder and cheeks. Stains of tears ran down her face in hidden lines, making the hard creases around her eyes stick out even more. There was little innocence there anymore...not like the kind she'd brought in on her first visit to this place.
She didn't speak as Ahzrukhal bent around the table, taking the knife to her wrists. She only flinched and looked up at Charon. Her lower lip quivered, but she stared with those brown eyes; digging into Charon's estranged ones – he knew even before she moved that cutting her binds was the stupidest decision Ahzrukhal had ever made...maybe would ever make.
Charon knew she was fast, but the way she twisted – once her arms were free – was with the speed of a resolute animal; every muscle bunched and loosened perfectly as her head made contact with Ahzrukhal's on a dull smack. Her hands dislodged the knife, swiped upwards, cut and then stabbed into the pulmonary artery in Ahzrukhal's neck. Only after the fact did Charon manage to react at all, conditioning forcing his hand; grabbing at her ankle to pull her back with enough force to dislocate her foot, but she kicked fast enough to smack his head back, making him stumble as she flopped off the table.
She squabbled for purchase, naked and quick on the bloody floor to the gasping, dying Ahzrukhal. Her fingers emptied pockets and fumbled, turning a quick look to catch Charon flip the table over with a growl. She killed Ahzrukhal, and now she was to be killed. He would make it quick...make it very quick, but she. Had. To. Die. Now.
She had to die....until...
“Stop!”, she ordered, and Charon stopped. Stained in her own blood and Charon's...former...employer's, she sat on Ahzrukhal's trembling body with the slip of paper gripped tight in her shivering fist.
Charon eyed the sight; mind unable to process everything aside from the fact that he'd been ordered to stop. The urge to strangle her to death vanished completely, but the guilt of what he'd previously done to her swam high to the surface; high enough that he nearly vomited.
“Th-...” she swallowed and gasped, finally breathing hard after the feat she'd just committed, “This is it.” She was referring to his contract and he nodded 'yes'. “Then...sit down...” - and he sat in the chair behind him with a 'thud', feeling the energy drain out of him the second his legs relax. Perhaps she'd force him off a cliff now, or outside where the mutant would rip him apart.
Carefully he eyed her, watching as she caught her breath and tried to get to her knees.
“I can assist you,” he said, purposefully lacking emotion when she slipped in a pool of blood.
“Don't touch me!” she hissed like he'd actually done so, for her hands went to hold her arms protectively, “I mean...” she started, pulling in a lungful of air before letting it out, “...just let me get up on my own.”
And she did, eventually, get up on her own, holding the edge of the table to support her buckling knees. She pointed to her bunched up pants on the floor and Charon bent to grab them, handing them to her at arm's length. He watched her put them on; one leg at a time with a pinched face. The blood between her legs made him swallowed a sudden rush of saliva.