Azrael’s Vengeance
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Azrael’s Vengeance
I don’t know how he found me. Well actually, that is a lie: he found me through sheer dumb luck.
I was prowling the streets. I take Ron’s comments to heart, and I can usually catch the scents in the air before the winds of change actually happens.
The fight started out simply enough. Two drunks beating on each other in an alley. Or rather, one huge drunk was straddling a smaller one and beating him with a tire iron. I tried to separate them as quickly and as efficiently as possible, without drawing too much attention. In other words, I grabbed the larger one by the throat and slammed him against the dumpster, leaving the other one cowering for a few moments before he realized he wasn’t being pounded anymore.
“Go get yourself cleaned up,” I suggested as kindly as possible, considering the circumstances, and suggested he go to the hospital. He meekly complied. I watched him go, keeping my grip around the other’s neck so hard all he could do was yank fitfully at my fingers.
“And you,” I growled, turning to face him and removing my glasses and baring my fangs. “What are you doing here?” I thrust him hard enough to dent the steel of the dumpster. He just growled and refused to answer.
“I suggest you talk, filth,” I hurled him deeper into the alley, where I would be free to interrogate him. “The longer you talk, the longer you live.”
“You’ll let me go if I do?” he asked timidly. I shook my head negatively.
“No. You die whatever happens. So I leave you with this last choice: sooner or later?”
He snarled and lunged. I brought my knee into his stomach, stopping him dead in his tracks. He wheezed painfully, his hands clutching his abdomen. I didn’t wait, kicking him as hard as I could in the face; he clattered against the fire escape before falling to the ground. Then he evaporated, and the flood of rats fled my presence.
I hate Bogeymen.
That’s when I heard boots scrape against the ground. I turned to see a young man walk into the alley, staring at me. At least . . . I think he was young. He had long, gray hair, but looked physically active and his fair skin was unlined. His eyes were piercing as bullets, and his demeanor was expressionless and cold. He wore a gray duster and black, knee high boots. The rest of his outfit reminded me of a soldier from the south during the civil war. I could see the large hilt of a finely crafted sword at his back.
“Ready to die, abomination?” he sneered, fingering the thorn-like piece of steel at the sword’s pommel.
I instantly knew the figure.
Azrael.
I was prowling the streets. I take Ron’s comments to heart, and I can usually catch the scents in the air before the winds of change actually happens.
The fight started out simply enough. Two drunks beating on each other in an alley. Or rather, one huge drunk was straddling a smaller one and beating him with a tire iron. I tried to separate them as quickly and as efficiently as possible, without drawing too much attention. In other words, I grabbed the larger one by the throat and slammed him against the dumpster, leaving the other one cowering for a few moments before he realized he wasn’t being pounded anymore.
“Go get yourself cleaned up,” I suggested as kindly as possible, considering the circumstances, and suggested he go to the hospital. He meekly complied. I watched him go, keeping my grip around the other’s neck so hard all he could do was yank fitfully at my fingers.
“And you,” I growled, turning to face him and removing my glasses and baring my fangs. “What are you doing here?” I thrust him hard enough to dent the steel of the dumpster. He just growled and refused to answer.
“I suggest you talk, filth,” I hurled him deeper into the alley, where I would be free to interrogate him. “The longer you talk, the longer you live.”
“You’ll let me go if I do?” he asked timidly. I shook my head negatively.
“No. You die whatever happens. So I leave you with this last choice: sooner or later?”
He snarled and lunged. I brought my knee into his stomach, stopping him dead in his tracks. He wheezed painfully, his hands clutching his abdomen. I didn’t wait, kicking him as hard as I could in the face; he clattered against the fire escape before falling to the ground. Then he evaporated, and the flood of rats fled my presence.
I hate Bogeymen.
That’s when I heard boots scrape against the ground. I turned to see a young man walk into the alley, staring at me. At least . . . I think he was young. He had long, gray hair, but looked physically active and his fair skin was unlined. His eyes were piercing as bullets, and his demeanor was expressionless and cold. He wore a gray duster and black, knee high boots. The rest of his outfit reminded me of a soldier from the south during the civil war. I could see the large hilt of a finely crafted sword at his back.
“Ready to die, abomination?” he sneered, fingering the thorn-like piece of steel at the sword’s pommel.
I instantly knew the figure.
Azrael.
Death isn’t a state of nothingness. It’s a journey. What path are you forging?
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WHAT! That psycho actually went after you Cee. When were you gonna tell me? That's it, Im getting my guns...DAMN IT, Im seeling those aren't I.
Well I take it you survived since you are posting this.
I hope you taught him a lesson nice and quick.
Well I take it you survived since you are posting this.
I hope you taught him a lesson nice and quick.
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
Bert_the_Turtle wrote:Damn! Don't leave us hanging! You're as bad as Holister and I! (And I learned it from you! )
Actually, she is far better than you
But, seriously, you are right, she really knows how to hit us with edge of the seat cliffhangers.
I hope I get to read how you take it to this slimebag....
С волками жить, по-волчьи выть.
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If I read things right I think that she did in fact kill the Bogeyman. Damn I am headed back to DC soon, again I am not returning alone, otherwise I already would have been back. I will explain why later and else where.
I think it is time to see if we can track down Azrael.
I think it is time to see if we can track down Azrael.
To find the darkness you have walk in the shadows.
Why bother Shades, if Cee is postings, that means ol' sir Azreal is dead, or a least missing a few vital parts.
Its not like she lost. She deals with chumps like him all the time. This guy is nothing new. The fight probably lasted five minutes, she kicked his ass, end of story.
Have some faith in our CeeCee
Its not like she lost. She deals with chumps like him all the time. This guy is nothing new. The fight probably lasted five minutes, she kicked his ass, end of story.
Have some faith in our CeeCee
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.
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Oh I do have a fair amount of Faith in Celeste. But the fact is Azrael is a little bit of a unknowen, and if even a fraction of what he said about his abilities is true this would make him a threat, particularly to her. I hope she finished him off, but I like you have to wait and see.
To find the darkness you have walk in the shadows.
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Incidentally, I think Bogeymen are one of the few paranormal baddies I've never had to deal with... o_O Them and werewolves are the only things y'all have all talked about that I've never had to deal with, before...
Of course, until recently, I hadn't had to deal with any Dybbuks, either, and I think I'd've been better off if I never had...so I guess I can hope the same for lycanthropes and bogeymen...?
Of course, until recently, I hadn't had to deal with any Dybbuks, either, and I think I'd've been better off if I never had...so I guess I can hope the same for lycanthropes and bogeymen...?
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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- Posts: 3618
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2006 8:50 pm
- Location: In Between the Supernatural and the Innocent
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- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
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- Posts: 3618
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2006 8:50 pm
- Location: In Between the Supernatural and the Innocent
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- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
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- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
So she's a litte late responding. Maybe she is just taking it easy today, catching up on her beauty sleep, or something.
You guys don't think that psycho could have....no, couldn't have. This is Cee we're talking about here.
The wack job couldn't have hurt her, could he?
If that guy hurt one hair on my Cee's head I'll hunt him till the ends of the earth and gut him like a lake trout I swear!
You guys don't think that psycho could have....no, couldn't have. This is Cee we're talking about here.
The wack job couldn't have hurt her, could he?
If that guy hurt one hair on my Cee's head I'll hunt him till the ends of the earth and gut him like a lake trout I swear!
"Too serve and protect", somethin' bout that gets a lil' blurred when dealin' with the supernatural.