I actually got inspired to do some writing for the first time in a while, so here’s a bit over 1000 words of Kitty’s first meeting with Heather.
The smell hit her the very moment that she pulled open the door.
Strong. Overpowering.
Delicious.
Kitty's fingers tightened their grip on the door handle, and she felt the metal begin to dent and bend out of shape beneath them as she attempted to anchor her body in place, fighting against the voice that echoed in the back of her head.
Take a bite. It urged. Take it all. You know you want to.
Steeling herself, she took a deep breath that she had absolutely no need of any more, and silently bade the voice to shut the fuck up, before turning her attention instead to the room before her. It was small, filled with bits of medical equipment that was scattered across various surfaces, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that the source of the overwhelming scent was the young woman who lay in the centre of it, atop a gurney, writhing in pain, her entire torso soaked in blood.
"Jesus." Kitty breathed, releasing her hold on the door to rush to the girl's side. "Fuck. Can you hear me, Honey? Is there anything I can do?"
Tears streamed down the young woman's face as she sobbed uncontrollably, pain contorting her face and wracking through her body, and Kitty felt a dull ache take root somewhere deep inside her chest as she noted that the girl's pallor, which was almost as unhealthily pale as her own. She mumbled and moaned incomprehensibly, the only parts of which Kitty was able to make out being desperate pleas for help.
"Ok, ok... I'm gonna go find a doctor, ok?" Kitty promised, as soothingly as she could manage. "You just hold on until I get back, alright?"
Stepping away from the girl, she moved back into the main hospital, moving to the next nearest door and swinging it open to reveal another treatment room, identical to the last one in every way except for its emptiness. She tried the next, and then the next; her purposeful stride becoming more of an angry stomp with each second that passed. Finally, she swung open the door to an occupied room, startling the doctor inside in the process.
"Finally."
"What are you doing back here?" The doctor asked, moving away from his patient to address her, and bar her entry to the room.
"There's a girl dying in the room over there." Kitty dodged the question. "You need to-"
"You're going to have to wait." He responded, glancing distractedly back into the treatment room towards his patient.
"Someone is dying." Kitty repeated, frustration building within her in a way that she wasn't completely convinced was natural. She'd never been a fan of being dismissed or ignored, but she wasn't sure that she'd ever responded to it quite so viscerally as she seemed to want to right now.
"And I've got a man here with a bullet in his head. Another doctor has been paged; they'll be with you soon."
"Yeah, I don't think she's gonna-" Kitty's thought was cut off as the door before her was closed in her face, and she felt that awful voice rear its head again.
How dare he treat you like that!? Go in there. Show him not to ignore you.
Kitty's hand moved unconsciously for the door, ready to throw it open once more. She'd influenced people's minds once or twice already, maybe she could do it again. Make him listen to her. Make him follow her and save that girl. She could-
No.
If she opened the door, that thing inside of her was going to rip that man apart. She could feel it there in the back of her mind, reveling in the idea of violence and dominance, and she refused to give it so much as a modicum of her headspace.
Balling her hand into a fist, she dropped it to her side, and turned on her heel, heading back to the room where the girl still lay.
Clicking the door shut behind her, Kitty moved over to the other woman, perching herself on the edge of the bed. She continued to cry and babble indistinctly, and Kitty carefully rearranged both of their positions, cradling the girl's head gently in her lap, where she began running her fingers through her hair, not sure what else she could do for her other than be there so that she didn't have to die alone.
"Can someone call my grandma?" The girl asked, weakly, and Kitty felt strong emotions begin to bubble up inside of her in response.
She wasn't even sure why she cared so much. She'd never really cared about other people before, especially not complete and utter strangers. Maybe it was just because she'd never seen another person so close to death before, or maybe it was because she was so young, and her hair was almost the same shade of red as her own, and she had yet to really process that this had happened to her only a few nights before. No-one had been there for her, and no-one was going to mourn her, so it seemed that the least she could do was offer what little support she could to this girl, so that she didn't have to die alone as well.
A single tear welled in her eye and began to roll down her cheek, and Kitty reached up to intercept it, drawing her hand back to find it coated with a thin layer of blood.
"Huh." She cried blood now, apparently. That wasn't vaguely terrifying at all.
Wait.
Blood.
Hadn't Mercurio said something about vampire blood? That it was the only thing keeping him alive after his beating?
Could she... could she save this girl?
The young woman let out another weak whimper, and Kitty could feel her heartbeat begin to slow.
Before she even had time to think about it, Kitty had raised up her arm, sinking her fangs into her own flesh. Tilting back the girl's head, she whispered to her gently. "Shhhh... It's ok, honey. It's gonna be ok. I can help you. I... I think I can help you."
She felt a drop of blood roll off of her wrist, then another, then the girl's lips closed around her wound, and she began to drink feverishly.
Kitty kept running her fingers through the other woman's hair with her free hand, watching with awe as some color began to return to her skin. Once she felt the girl's heartbeat strengthen, and it no longer seemed that she was on the brink of death, Kitty extracted her wrist, licking closed the bite marks she'd left there.
A couple of moments passed in silence, then the girl looked up at her with some measure of lucidity in her eyes. "Wh- What did you do? W-Who are you? What did you do to me?"
"I, uh..." Kitty didn't exactly have an answer for that, seeing as how she didn't exactly know, even if she were able to tell her anything about the supernatural shit that existed in the world. "It was nothing. Nothing for you to worry about. I just wanted to help."
"You..." The girl looked up at her with wide eyes. "I was dying. And then I... I kissed your wrist?"
Kitty began to remove herself from underneath the girl, gently resting her head back onto the pillow as she did so, though she immediately tried to sit up, fixing Kitty with an intense look.
"I can... I can feel you inside of me. What did you do to me?"
Kitty shook her head insistently as she made a beeline for the exit, knowing that she had no answers to satisfy the girl's curiosity, and sensing that the situation was going to escalate were she to stay much longer. "Just forget I was here." She instructed, in a soft voice, then paused halfway out of the door to add: "And... take care of yourself, ok?"
#20 “Don’t try to fix me. I’m not broken.” for Aubrey?
I ended up altering the line a little bit, to better fit the scene I had in mind, but it’s close enough. So here’s some rare evidence of Aubrey actually having emotions and being vulnerable and stuff, even if it’s only for a moment, and there’s no-one else around to see it. I think this is actually the first time that I’ve written for Aubrey, so that was pretty fun!
She scampered up towards the crow's nest, invisible to the night, her sure-footed steps across the rigging betraying a well-practiced familiarity with the route before her. Finally reaching the top, she hopped over the wooden railing, throwing down the pillow that she had been clutching in one hand, and collapsed down to the floor atop it, drinking in the view of the starlit sky above her.
The ship was near silent below, most of the makeshift crew that she had been able to pull together having headed off to find an inn to stay in earlier that evening when they had docked in Neketaka. Aubrey was glad for it. The peace and quiet helped remind her of the old days, back before she had become a Watcher; when it had been just her and the open road, on a hunt for her missing memories.
Well. Not just her, she supposed.
"Hey, Wael?" Eyes remaining skyward, Aubrey pulled herself up into a sitting position, back pressed against the railing as she tucked her legs up in front of her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Everything's kind of blurry again. The memories. I guess it's because Eothas killed me. Which is rude, by the way. He smashed right up from under the temple I built to you and everything." She let out a long sigh, and the stars above twinkled, as if prompting her to continue. "I don't know if it's within your power to give me those memories back. Probably is. But even if it is, I wouldn't ask you to."
She paused a moment, sorting out her thoughts, hugging her legs tighter against her body. "I don't need you to fix me. I'm not broken."
Finally dropping her legs, she rolled off to one side, coming to rest on the pillow once again. Reaching up, she pulled at the leather cord that she wore around her neck, thumbing absent-mindedly at the small metal symbol of an eye that resided there. "But... could you maybe keep guiding me, the way you always have? Be there by my side while I try and piece everything back together again... again? I know that I'm kind of beholden to Berath now, for bringing me back, but... But, well, you're the one who's always been there for me."
"I'm sure there's plenty more mysteries ahead of us." She told the night's sky. "And pranks, and puzzles."
Finally tearing her eyes away from the sky above her, she cast her gaze downward, settling meaningfully on the holy symbol in her hand. "At least, if you'll still have me?"
For the briefest moment, she could have sworn that she saw the metal eye move on it's own, flashing her an exaggerated wink, and a wide smile began to spread across Aubrey's face.
Tucking the pendant safely back under her shirt, she turned her smile skywards, feeling as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Thanks! I promise that I won't let you down."
I wanted to do a little fic of how Kitty ended up with her Post-Bloodlines ghoul, Cam, since I did that one for Heather a little while ago, but this one ran a touch longer as the situation was a bit more... intense. It was fun to write something more action-y though! tw for blood and violence.
She had known what she was going to find even before she had made her way into the abandoned building. The scent of blood in the air had been too thick, too voluminous, for her to expect anything else.
Red coated the floor; sticky, uneven drag marks that streaked across the bare concrete ground, and guided her from the main entrance, leading her deeper into the building, until she reached a narrow wooden door which led to a wide open space beyond. She paused there for a moment, keeping to the shadowy doorway as she squeezed her eyes shut, calling upon the power of her blood to activate one of the newer talents that she'd picked up. As her eyes opened again, the previously pitch-black room before her was clear as day.
A body hung in the center of the space, suspended from sturdy rafters by bound hands, head lolling limply against its chest. Dark, shoulder length hair obscured the victim's face, and a large pool of blood spread out below them, the puddle of deep crimson providing the only splash of colour within the bare, grey room.
"Jesus." Kitty mouthed, silently working her gaze across the rest of the scene. No-one seemed to be immediately present, but the blood looked and smelled fresh, so she had no doubt that whoever had hung them up there couldn't have gone far. The whole thing screamed 'trap', she had to admit, but then, that had never discouraged her in the past.
A moment passed in silence, and then she shrugged. What the hell.
"Oh wow," She announced, in a loud, over-exaggerated tone, meant to carry into the room. "What a delicious smell! Guess I should just walk into the middle of his completely non-suspicious room where I'm sure nothing's gonna happen!"
Dropping her voice back to a low drawl, she added; "Let the record reflect that Briars is staring blankly into the middle distance, as if she's looking into the camera on one of those mockumentary TV shows." She tossed her hair back, starting to direct a cheeky grin over her shoulder, then remembered that she was alone, and let out a small sigh. "Oh. Right."
Tightening her grip on her umbrella, she moved forward into the room, heading towards the body with a purposeful stride. There was a beat, during which she began to wonder if she had misread the situation, then the faint woosh of an arrow cut through the silence.
She spun inhumanly fast, flicking the catch on her weapon to release the blade from its mundane casing, and swinging it in a wide arc, knocking the approaching ammunition out of the air before it could reach her. She levied a fierce glare at the figure that she could now see making their way down from an upper floor, then felt a pain pierce her shoulder as another arrow thunked into her from behind.
"Ow." She remarked, though it didn't actually hurt as much as she suspected that it would have were she still alive. "Rude."
The figure approaching her was closer now, drawing a long, wicked blade from a sheath attached to their belt, and launching at her. She parried the attack with her own sword, dancing around her opponent as another arrow flew past her from behind, leaving a thin gash across her cheek, before splintering into the concrete ahead.
Placing the blade-wielding opponent firmly between herself and the direction that the arrows were flying from, she dodged another slash of the knife, scanning the upper level catwalk for a sign of whoever was shooting at her. It took a moment or two, but eventually she spotted them, hunkered down behind a crate of some sort, a large heavy-looking crossbow in their hands.
As they ducked out to fire off another shot, she met their gaze, and tilted her head with a coquettish smile. "Oh, honey..." Her voice was soft, almost sensual, but it echoed through the otherwise silent chamber, bouncing off of the empty walls and filling the room. She tapped into her power again, this time almost unconsciously, such behaviour being practically second nature to her. Her smile turned cold at the last second. "Shoot the other one."
Sure enough, the next projectile buried into her attacker's bicep, and they let out a pained yelp, directing their attention away from her to look at their wound, or perhaps to turn to their ally with a questioning look. She wasn't sure which, as the moment that they looked away from her, she struck. The first slash of her sword hit their dominant hand, sending the knife clattering uselessly to the ground. The second, before they even had a moment to process what was happening, opened their throat, and their eyes widened in horror. They stumbled to their knees, clutching uselessly at their neck, choking on blood, and something primal inside of her reacted, a voice that was not entirely her own echoing through her head.
Finish them. Feed.
"Not. Now."
She sprung forward past the dying person, sprinting towards the ladder that led up to where the other one was holed up. Reaching the top just a moment after the compulsion that had overtaken their mind faded, she dodged off to the side, barely avoiding another crossbow bolt.
"Monster!" Her attacker spat, face contorted in fury, or grief, or some mixture of each. They dropped the crossbow heavily to the ground, pulling out a wooden stake from somewhere inside of their heavy coat.
Kitty arched a brow, closing the distance between the two of them. "Oh, I'm the monster? For the record, I don't have dead people trussed up in my place of business. That's all you, babe."
She made to grab for their wrist, aiming to disarm them, but they were more agile than she expected, and drove the stake through the palm of her hand when she got too close. Hissing in pain, she bared her teeth, and swung at them with her other hand- and the sword that she still held in it.
The stake was carved from their hand, along with- if the blood and screaming and cursing were anything to go by- one or more of its owner's fingers. But that didn't seem to discourage them.
They hurled themselves at Kitty, catching her off guard, managing to knock her backwards.
Losing her grip on her sword, she heard it go skittering off the edge of the catwalk and tumble down to the floor below, then let out a frustrated growl, snatching at the clothing of her attacker, and yanking them towards her.
She sank her fangs into their neck, then immediately regretted the decision, remembering too late that she could only keep down blood from a very specific type of individual. Weighing her options, she forced herself to let go, battling with the thing inside of her to wrench herself away from them, sparing herself the indignity of having to throw up the contents of her stomach in a moment's time.
She started towards them again, but they stumbled back from her, and she watched as their leg caught on the edge of the crate they'd been hiding behind, knocking their feet out from under them, and sending them plunging off of the edge of the catwalk.
"Oh!" Kitty moved forwards, her natural instinct being to try and catch a falling person, even if it was someone she had been actively trying to kill. But she was too late, and could only look down over the side at the limp, broken body now sprawled out below. "Oh... shit."
She stood for a moment, unsure of what to do now that both attackers were dead. She hadn't really thought that far ahead.
"Well... I guess that's that, then?"
Making her way back down to the ground, she gathered up her sword, then located a suitably sized crate, pushing it over to where the body hung in the centre of the room, so that she might cut them down. She didn't know who they were, but she figured that they probably deserved more dignity than they currently had. And she was going to afford it to them- it was the least she could do really, after it seemed that those people had killed them in an attempt to lure her out.
Leaning into the body, she angled herself so that she could support its weight once she cut through the ropes binding them, and -
Oh.
A heartbeat.
Faint, but still there.
They weren't dead.
Not yet.
She sliced through the ropes in one powerful swing, carefully lifting them down to the ground.
Their hair now having fallen back from their face, it occurred to Kitty that, actually, weirdly... she recognised them. That cop that she had crossed paths with a handful of times in the couple of weeks that she had been in town. Davidson? Daniels? Davis, maybe? She was pretty sure he had given her a business card at some point, but she supposed that now wasn't the best time to try and locate it. His heartbeat was fading rapidly. He was about to die.
Unless he wasn't.
She glanced at the large hole that the stake had left in her hand, then back at the dying man in front of her. She could probably spare enough blood to fix one of these issues tonight. And she supposed only one of them was time-sensitive.
She let out a deep sigh, then brought her wrist to her lips.
"You'd better be worth this, is all I'm saying." She informed the unconscious man, as she moved her arm over to his mouth, letting her blood drip down into his throat.
One drop. Two. Three. And then he seemed to come to, lips sealing around the wound as he drank, one shaky hand lifting up to grasp at her arm. She started to reach up to brush her other hand through his hair, then remembered the gaping hole in her palm and thought better of it. Instead, she dropped her voice to a low, soothing tone.
"Shhhh... it's alright, honey. You're gonna be just fine."
Extracting her wrist from his grasp, she closed the bite mark she'd inflicted on herself, then gently reached for his hand, working her thumb in slow, rhythmic motions across its back.
"Y... You're... glowing?" He managed, weakly, a few moments later, blinking his eyes as he looked towards her.
"Huh?" She frowned, then realised that she was still using the night vision trick that Beckett had taught her. The one that lit up her eyes. With a mumbled curse, she closed her eyes and let it fade away, before addressing the young man. "Oh, well... Uh, people always tell me I light up the room. Just wait until you see me smile!"
"What... happened?" If he was suspicious, or scared, then he was too exhausted to show it. He just continued clutching onto her hand as though it was the only thing that was keeping him alive.
In a way, she supposed, it kind of had been.
"Someone hurt you. But I can keep you safe. Until you're better. And then we'll... figure things out from there." She flashed him her most responsible expression. "Can you trust me to do that?"
He nodded faintly, and she saw his features twist into a soft smile. "Yeah, I... I, uh, I don't know why. But I feel like I've known you forever. I trust you."
"Good." She mirrored his nodding, though hers was more enthusiastic. "That's good. I'll try to, uh, live up to that."
15, 70, and/or 105 for drabbles? Any watchers or pairings :D
Thank you! I went for no.15: “When I’m with you, I’m home.” for Ari and Aloth. It’s set in my Coffee Shop AU setting, because apparently that’s the version of those characters that wanted to co-operate with me and actually be written.
"Are you sure that I can't tempt you to something sweet, darling?"
Aloth had been completely engrossed in the article before him just moments before, he was sure of it, and yet at the very sound of the voice, his concentration broke immediately. Words on the page fading away, he raised his gaze up, instead focusing on Ariela, as she set down a tray containing a pretty tea set atop his table in the cafe. A bright smile lit up her face as she noticed that she had caught his full attention, and he tried not to dwell on how good the sight made him feel.
"Um, no, thank you." He assured. "Just the tea is fine."
Pushing some of the papers that were spread out in front of him off to one side of the table, he pulled the tray closer, beginning the process of preparing his tea. Even still, he caught sight of the brief look of concern that flickered across the young woman's face in his peripheral vision.
"Are you quite certain? You've seemed to be rather busy of late; I thought that you might appreciate something sugary to boost your energy." Glancing towards the nondescript wooden door behind the store's counter, the one that led to the kitchen area and the private residence in which Ariela lived, her face pulled into a thoughtful expression, lips pursing and cheeks puffing up adorably in the process. "I think I still have a few strawberry blondies left out back. They're not for sale, I was just testing out a new recipe, but you're welcome to one if you'd like."
"I'm perfectly fine, Ariela." Setting the teaspoon down on the edge of his saucer, he flashed her a quick smile. "Which is not to say that I don't appreciate your concern for my wellbeing- of course, I do- but I assure you that in this particular case, you're worrying unnecessarily."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Good." She smiled again, before leaning casually against the back of the empty chair across from him. "I'm afraid that I don't know anywhere near enough about magic to assist you with your research, but if there is anything that I can do that might help to alleviate some of your stress..."
"You're already doing it." The words tumbled from his mouth automatically, and he felt his eyes widen a little as he realised what he'd said. Bringing up his cup to his lips, he mumbled a further explanation into the tea. "That is, just being around you is, in itself, enough to make me feel better."
A warm look passed over Ariela's face, before her smile turned impish. Moving around the table to come closer to him, she leaned in with an exaggerated show of confusion. "I'm sorry, what was that? I don't think I caught the end part." Setting the cup back on the saucer, he met her eye, trying very hard to appear nonchalant. "I said, the cafe has a very calming feel to it."
"Hmm..." Ariela pretended to ponder his words, pale green ponytail swishing back and forth as she tilted her head this way and that, and then leaned in closer, now easily close enough to steal a kiss from him if she wanted to. He felt a heat rise on his cheeks as the thought occurred to him, immediately followed by the realisation that he was far from the only customer in the building. "No. I don't think that you did, though. I suspect that whatever you did say was very sweet, however. Assuming that it had been intended for me and not for my wonderful tea?"
He chuckled a little at that, then hesitantly reached out for her nearest hand. "It... was, in fact, intended for you." Entwining her fingers with his own, he added. "I don't only come here for the tea, you know."
Ariela raised a brow, trying to subdue her mischievous grin. "Oh? But you rarely ever order any of my desserts?"
"No, but then they're not what I come here for, either." His expression became intense as he held her gaze, finally having found the confidence to tell her what was on his mind. "I actually really rather enjoy spending my time here. I may have a house to return to at the end of the day, but there's something about the cafe- um..." He cut himself off abruptly, quickly averting his eyes away from her, and then corrected himself. "No. There's something about being around you that feels like home. I couldn't possibly feel overwhelmed, or stressed, or, well, anything too negative when you're around me, because just your presence alone is enough to soothe me. I come here every day because I know that no matter what else happens, or has happened, having seen your smile for even a short length of time will make it all seem inconsequential. When I'm with you, I... I feel happy, safe- warm. I'm home."
Ariela's cheeky smile melted away as he spoke, a soft, vulnerable expression taking its place as her eyes began to shine with tears. "Oh... Darling." Tugging Aloth closer still, she pulled him into a powerful hug, wrapping her arms tight around him and burying her face in his hair. When she spoke, her voice was full of emotion. "It means the world to me that you feel that way. I hope you know that you're just as special to me, as well."
It was the same thing that she said to him every time that they greeted after he had been away. An attempt at appearing impartial- maybe even cool and detached. But there was a weight to her words, an emotion that was betrayed by the look in her eyes. And if you looked closely enough, you might be able to see the truth. For when she spoke those words, what she was actually saying was I missed you. I worry. I'm glad to see you're ok.
And she was pretty sure that the sentiment reached him, though neither of them ever spoke of it aloud. As, every single time, his expression softened for just a moment before he responded. And, every single time, his response was the same.
I feel like Bloodlines doesn’t touch enough on how fucking wild the opening of the game must be for the Fledgling. Anways, here’s Kitty freaking out thinking that her latest honeypot con has gone very wrong, before it ever occurs to her that that’s not even the half of it.
Things were spiralling out of control very quickly.
One moment, everything had been going smoothly; her mark had been taking her back to his hotel room, and she was perfectly on track to be leaving him the next morning with a night's worth of fun memories- and a fat check to keep her quiet about his 'indiscretion'. And then, the next thing she knew, she was... somewhere else. Her hands were tied behind her back, the floor below was cold and hard beneath her bare feet, and try as she might, Kitty could not bring to mind what had happened in between.
No. That wasn't quite right. There were... flashes. Snippets of memories that didn't quite fully connect to one another.
She could remember undressing. Some kissing. A predatory glint in the eye of her companion, that for some reason had not concerned her in the way that she was sure it should have. She remembered a brief stab of pain, followed by the most intense pleasure she'd ever felt in her life. Remembered blood. A lot of blood. Then a loud crash, wood splintering, someone bringing down a weapon into her chest.
She blinked rapidly. Was she dead?
No. Not dead. Just... captured. Kidnapped, maybe? Her mark must have slipped something into her drink somehow, and it was fucking with her memory. She'd make him regret that.
Hopefully.
Someone behind her gave her a shove, and she moved forward obediently, stealing a quick glance over her shoulder as she did so. No-one that she recognised, but even a brief look at them filled her with dread. She wasn't sure why; they appeared to be a perfectly normal individual, but there was something about them that felt inexplicably terrifying. Made her too scared to talk, too scared to think. Maybe her nerves were just shot. It was understandable, really. She was being kidnapped, after all.
Taking in her surroundings with each step forward, she was able to determine she was heading towards a stage, coming at it from behind. Maybe she was in a bar or club, somewhere nearby the hotel? No, surely they would all still be packed at this hour. And, though she could make out some murmuring of individuals ahead of her, it was nowhere near the crowds that one would expect from that kind of establishment. A theatre, perhaps? A private gathering in an empty theatre...
Oh fuck. Was she being human trafficked?
That revelation should have freaked her out more than it seemed to, she realised. Even as her mind began to panic- intensely, overwhelmingly, as it began to sink in that she would have no control over whatever awaited her ahead- her body seemed to show no signs of a physical response. No adrenaline rush as a flight or fight response was activated, no hyperventilation as she descended into a panic attack.
Huh.
She frowned as that last thought crossed her mind. Now that she was paying attention to it, she was actually pretty sure that she wasn't breathing at all. In fact, she didn't remember the last time that she'd taken a breath. But that was ridiculous. If she'd been holding her breath for that long, she would have passed out. Or died, or...
Her thoughts cut off abruptly as she was guided out onto the stage, to find her mark already there, waiting.
On his knees. With his hands tied behind his back just like her.
Oh. She blinked. She wasn't expecting that.
If that guy wasn't the one who was pulling the strings of... whatever this was.... then, who the fuck was he? Was he a gangster? Was this some organized crime thing? She didn't fuck with the mob. Too much violence.
She opened her mouth to attempt to bargain with her captor, or whoever was in charge, or just... somebody. Anybody. But before even a single word could escape her, she caught sight of the person behind her once again, and found her lips closing silently as that familiar wave of terror washed over her. She was going to die tonight, she realised, as she sunk down to her knees in the spot that she had been directed to. The very thought of it chilled her to the bone.
And while she wasn't exactly wrong, what Kitty had yet to realise was that the hardest part of this night was not going to be the act of dying, but rather, coming to terms with the fact that she already had. And trying to figure out what came after.
I haven’t been able to write anything in recent weeks, but suddenly got a little flash of a scene the other night while thinking about Kitty’s relationship dynamics, so here’s 500-and-odd words of her being an insufferable little shit interacting with her ghoul.
Ducking under the police tape, Cam moved into the apartment, pace slow and cautious. He barely dared to breathe, focusing intently on the sounds of his surroundings, trying to pick up on the slightest noise of somebody else present in the home. Sure enough, after a moment, he heard it. Footsteps- leisurely moving across the adjoining room- and the sound of a drawer being opened or closed. Damn it, someone was here.
Rounding the corner to confront the intruder, he flicked on his flashlight, and illuminated...
"Kitty?"
The familiar redhead was perched on the arm of a sofa, looking completely at home, despite there being no reason why she would be there at all. Some kind of envelope or folded piece of paper was in her hand, though she glanced up from it as he burst into the room, her voice flat as she met his eye with a complete lack of surprise. "Cameron."
"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?"
"After hours property viewing." A brief sparkle of mischief flickered across her eyes, but she said no more, and it faded once again as she turned her attention away from him, and back to the paper in her hand.
"Riiight. You know that this is a crime scene, right? You can't be in here!"
Interestingly, rather than serving as a warning, or causing her to see the error of her ways- as perhaps he had intended, his words only seemed to amuse her. Her eyes moved back in his direction with a sharp glint, as a smirk tugged at her painted lips. "Aww, babe... no. I can't take a walk on a sunny afternoon. Can't enjoy my own signature cheese souffle. Can't have an argument without getting at least a little bit turned on... But I can and I will be in here." Distractedly, she murmured: "Give me a little light?"
Almost unconsciously, he redirected his flashlight, illuminating the thing in her hand, then frowned at his own action. He'd started to notice stuff like that more and more lately- that the more he was around her, the more he seemed to want to indulge her every whim. Was that because of what she'd done to him, or was she just starting to grow on him? He wasn't entirely sure. But it made him happy to make her happy.
When he spoke again, it was with a slightly softer voice. "Someone saw you breaking in. What would you have done if it wasn't me that had come to investigate?"
"Hmmm..." Kitty tilted her head to one side, lifting manicured fingers to her chin in an over-exaggerated show of deliberation. "I guess that I would have... seduced a cop? Maybe played dumb? Climbed out of a window if I was desperate? Ooo, or just, y'know... made them forget that they even saw me in the first place? The possibilities are truly endless, dear."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly frustrating to talk with?"
Folding the paper in half with a satisfied nod, she slipped it into her jacket pocket, then regarded him with a bright grin. "Constantly. But that seems like a 'you' kind of problem, if you ask me."
