Silver streaked walls stretched on farther than the eye could see, farther than the longest road and ending past a glowing, white line where the sky met earth. Dark streaks with broken dots sprayed across its expanse and extended up from the horizon, curling over his head . Odd, shard-shaped stars shining erratic colors red, blue and white and changing with every stuttering step he took. It was dark now, yet his human eyes could very well see. Walls of mirrors walled them off yet he felt a light breeze. He sniffed the air, hesitantly, noting nothing ‘cept a sickly sweet tang that clawed a disgusted retch out his throat. His eyes shot to her corpse-like gaze, sinewy fingers tightened round her arm like a vice till he could see red slush pooling under his grip.
“What trick is this?”
He whispered gently, a tight smile cutting into his cheeks. No one liked his smile.
The creature’s eyes widened and she blubbered incoherently, thrashing in his steel-like grip. Her head darted every direction, exposing a crisp neck like ivory. A heavy lock of red hair slapped him across the face and a wicked smile flit briefly across her alluring, liver lips. Note to any enterprising hoonter, Fae couldn’t hold an act for shite. He caught their reflections in the mirror. A man, thin as a rail and head scraping the sky, with a lined face like an angry lion. One hand twisted a struggling beauty’s arm till her skin blot red and panicked eyes prickled with tears like dewdrop. Moonlight dusted her visage with a gentle glow. She seemed endlessly delicate, and he, ever a beast.
Bullshit.
His eyes darted around them, searching for any sign or oddity he might use and he fought to drag his feet forward. Every step had a different weight dragging him back, sometimes heavier, sometimes lighter. He struggled to keep upright and the creature in his grasp refused to stop squirming. He took exception to that.
“Where are they?”
His only response was an energetic cackle, like a teenager being told a joke entirely too funny. Her shoulders jumped and teeth sparkled in an open mouthed grin.
Strike two, out.
A fist bashed her across the face. She fell limp for a moment before swinging her neck upwards, fixing him with a pair of hateful red eyes. The thick rubber knuckle of his glove tore a stunning red line across her cheek. ‘Whooo, I’m rusty,’ the thought bounced in his brain, back in the day he could land dead on, three neat circles of perfect pink. Rosy pink to purple, rising slow like bread dough. Shame, he got so few opportunities these days. Ebony skin just wasn’t the same.
“Well?”
Her cheek ballooned on one side, his left eye twitched and he knew,“no”, fist met face again and squashed the spit down her spasming throat. Been there, done that, spitting in someone's eye was less fun when being on the receiving end. Not again. Who knew what disease her kind had on them, best not take any chances. As aways, his glove remained unstained by neither blood nor spit. Mell'd outdone herself.
This knuckle was chosen after rigorous testing by one of the best experts on tactical gear in the city. Someone whom they'd accidentally created.
Come to think of it, the entire series of events leading up were completely idiotic.
Good times.
----------------------------------------
"A'rite, we gotta filter some white women and run a survey on intelligence, how."
"Why white women?"
"Find me a community college or local business with more than one black woman,"
"Why woman?"
"No idea, blame the boss"
"Intelligence or wisdom?"
"Dunno, boss just said he needs it be obvious who's a smart cookie from the dumb ones."
"..."
"Well shit, there goes half the university surveys,"
"Okay, how do-" just as they'd passed the cinema, a poster caught Rose's eye,"I have an idea."
"Hm?"
Rose animatedly explained his ingenious idea. After which, Rail nodded in acknowledgement of this revolutionary tactic. Angel had no discernible expression, a first for him, while Van was alternating looks of disbelief between a grinning Rose and a completely serious Rail.
"That sounds fantastic, much better than your usual suggestions, but what do we need for it?"
"Someone tall, pale and handsome"
All eyes turned to Van.
"What?"
The staring continued.
"No, no you wouldn't"
Their eyes bore holes into His soul.
"I'm your brother, you wouldn't,"
Six hands clasped round his limbs, hoisting him above their heads before marching into a nearby basement.
"NO! NO, PLEASE!"
----------------------------------------
Jaime was terrified.
She'd been overjoyed when school had finished. Tenth grade on a Friday morning was kicking her a new one and she'd all but lumbered out the classroom. Just before she round the corner, three black-suited men wearing white face masks pounced on her from a black limo. Then dragged her inside with the ease of pulling a feather.
One of them even neatly pulled her seat belt and patted her on the forehead before tying a velvety blindfold over her eyes.
Now, she was in a pitch black room, a spotlight was above her, tracing a dim orange circle to part the darkness.
From all sides all she saw was black, her hands and feet were taped to the sides of a chair, her blindfold was tilted a bit, allowing her a peek.
A deep, baritone voice rang from all sides.
"You have some gall, acting like you do,"
The clack-crack of dress shoes alerted her of an approaching figure, if his unpleasantly attractive voice already hadn't.
She caught a flash of white teeth, printing briefly against the dark.
The sound stopped in-front of her, then continued in a circle. She spied a thin waistline barely concealed beneath a white undershirt and some tight black pants. Damn, that's a nice a-
"Did you really think I wouldn't find you, mmmy sweet?"
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
He drew out the 'm', growling it like grinding cobbles together. She released a hot breath she hadn't known she was holding.
A paper-pale finger with a nail flushed like a rose plucked the blindfold over her head, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
Bright blue eyes that sparkled like oceanic diamonds set above high cheekbones. His long ebony locks like fangs loomed over her, their color the darkest of darks that put shadows to shame. His plump, kissable lips plushed out in an expression of pure desire. He looked at her like if she was his whole world. She saw in him nothing but Desire.
Desire for her.
"So, ssso sweeeeet"
His smile stretched up and her eyes widened. Two long, pointed teeth biting downwards like a wolf, stained just enough pink at their razor-sharp edges
Oh god.
----------------------------------------
The air smelt of fish and salt.
Phip. Tranquilizer guns, perfection incarnate.
She was out like a light.
Sixth one yet, thesis dis-proven, blindfolding them doesn't prevent the end result. Just delays it.
----------------------------------------
Angie's heart beat out her chest. She watched in rapt attention as the vampire's broad back jumped as a sound like flesh made hard as wood wetly struck skin echoed in the darkness. His form jumped and moaned in ecstasy she'd brought him by her very presence. She'd caused this. She'd brought such a strong, sophisticated creature down to the level of a beast. Willing to forsake decency just to prevent himself from losing control. If she had the breath to, she would've dared him. If her cheeks weren't red with embarrassment, she might've let him.
The thought of it sent a pleasant chill down her spine and a lightness to her head. Her mind imagined that arrogant, sultry expression he'd shot her bent over her flushed form. A shiver wracked her whole body and her lead lolled to the side, wide-oval glasses clinking to the floor.
----------------------------------------
Van had taken to bashing the wall with a wooden baton and squealing like a strangled pig.
All he'd done to lighten the sound was wrap one single towel around it.
Twenty dollars was on the line and he was sure he'd win this time. No way anyone would fall for this, the sounds were incomparable to strangling the monkey.
"DAMN! WHITIE NERD'S DRIPPIN' THROUGH THE CHAIR, HOLY SHIT!"
"Planned for this, took a rental set"
Van sunk against the wall, mumbling incoherently, "Why are we here, just to suffer?"
"I'm suffering every time we send these wastes home with hundies. Should be the other way around."
----------------------------------------
"This is the first time in my life I've made a woman climax from my presence, I didn't even know that was possible."
"I wish I had never known it was possible"
Clik
----------------------------------------
"Take 132"
Are you kidding me.
How
How are they all the same
Intensity may vary, but it's the same reaction.
On eyesight they soak through the god damn seat.
Why.
How.
When.
What kind of generational brainwashing is this?!
Was Sister Agatha right to destroy their TV?!
What is this hell?
He flashed his canines at their latest interviewee. Ran out of uni girls a while ago. This one was a woman in her mid twenties, an accountant. Rectangular glasses framed by a brown bun and a stern glare. A mole dotted the corner of her right eye and she wore a pencil skirt cut to regulation. She looked every bit the image of a perfectly prim and proper lady, albiet tied to a chair.
He inched his face mere millimetres from her own, a finger just about to trace up from the point of her chin. He stared deep into her widened eyes.
"Oh, the things I'd do to you,"
He had faith.
"OOOOH MYYY GAAAAWWWED"
Clik
And it was on this day that Vritra's hatred of fish was born.
----------------------------------------
Her brows were scrunched down, mouth twisted like a sideways peanut and the only word she'd uttered between his ramblings of "Magic blood," "something. Something heroin," sensually flash canines, and the eternal classic, "You drive me mad as a cosmic galaxial honey badger and hornier than the fairest of noble porcupines"
He'd been using that last one for three days. Nothing changed.
Except now.
"What"
A sharp utterance. Not a hopeful one either. As if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"What?"
Like she didn't want to believe this entire situation was possible.
"What!?"
Her gaze labelled him as the most mentally challenged individual to ever draw breath.
"W-whut…"
He was euphoric.
The room lit up.
"YEEEEAH BABBBY THATS WHAT I'M TALKIN BOUT!"
Rose ricochet off the walls into a high five, somersaulting over the woman still tied to a chair.
"WHOOOOOOO!"
Van ran in circles, embracing each of his brothers in a bone crushing hug before ripping off his vest and rapidly shaking tail to the tune of some old timey song about dancers becoming a dance.
"Now, I appreciate the Saturday night peepshow and all, but why 'm I here 'xactly?"
The white woman was, by all means, perfectly average. Not an unpleasant face, but not particularly pretty. Not too tall but not very short. Neither rich looking nor poor. Black hair, body shaped like a bumpy rectangle, standard brown eyes and thin lips. Perfectly average.
But she was exceptional.
Among white folk she was a true specimen of intelligence. Thus, they were going to release her back into the wild.
With some gifts to ensure survival.
Vandal clacked his heels together, cocking his hip back to a neutral position, coughed into his sleeve and began to speak,
After spitting out those fake ass teeth.
"Good day Ms. Amelia, I am happy to inform you that out of over two hundred participants, you have won a full expenses paid trip to any vacation resort in the city," Van adopted his best people-pleaser smile, "And all this gear"
His wide open arms swept over a vaible arsenal comprising of body armor, a concealed carry license, one gold-plated AK-47(unloaded), a mouser, five gloves of varying sizes and purpose and at least seven different types of tasers.
And that's how the fastest growing weapons dealer in the entire city got started.
...
In hindsight, that was far too large a gift.
----------------------------------------
A pleasant smile dug into his cheeks. To say their boss, Gracie.Jr, was horrified is an understatement. Sometimes, Azra'il considered becoming a movie director.
He zoned back in, turning his attention to the monster he'd accidentaly caught.
Strangely enough, the porcelain-skinned femme seemed no worse for wear despite his rather, sophisticated, persuasive skills. Possible that her kind didn’t feel pain as humans do? Perhaps, typing had something to do with it? He shelved that thought for later and trudged onwards into the endless corridor.
The fairy flinched and shrunk in on herself every time he jostled her closer to the reflective walls.
Odd.
He spun the fairy sideways soon as he noticed, pressing his forearm on top her elbow. She roughly wrung her body towards him but his boot swept the ankles out from under her, she flew face-first into the dust with a hearty ‘whump!’. And his foot found a comfortable place on the back of her head.
“AAR-Hg”
Ah! the sound of sand eating, ever pleasant. Wait… sand?
Indeed, whitish silvery sand covered every corner of the floor, extending to infinity and as he rubbed his toes in, infinitely deep. Worrisome. He should’ve observed this from the get-go. Hence why he hated playing host, hostages were annoyingly distracting. "Don't hurt me!?" Pray tell, how much money could he extract from a corpse? ‘Please, I have a family, hic hic’, yes, that’s why you’re here, please tell them to pay me. Regardless, he had more important things to do, like survive.
It was time to take proper stock of the situation.
The mirror walls were the first oddity. No dust at all and a perfectly reflective silver. Its sheen alternated colors depending on the angle, another oddity. The third oddity was most worrisome.
A pile of sand marred the reflection of his outstretched boot. Blot the reflection, just in case. He'd grown up reading stolen R.L. Stein books from the library. Was it really stealing if no one used the building?
The sand stuck to the mirror, almost all of it. Otherwise, nothing of note.
The sky. Nothing, just large black stripes with blurry blue lies inter-spaced between them. The obsidian stripes were dotted with stars, as he’d observed prior. He focused his vision to them… they seemed… close? Yes, close. He estimated a few hundred feet at most. Mentally comparing this depth to the night sky made it obvious, this place was small, much, much smaller. The ‘stars’ were too large and light, too close. Possibility: he was in a complex of sorts. Tall, but still finite. Good.
He glanced back at the wall he’d defaced with sand. Sand was not there anymore.
Worrisome.
He kicked more sand.
Waited.
Waited.
Shook the audacious fairy by her shoulders till she hung limp.
Waited.
Nothing happened.
He blinked.
.
.
.
The sand was gone
Conclusion: He was in an Euclidean complex with morphing topology. Danger level, extremely high.
More information required.
No matter.
He was lucky to have a more than willing source within spitting distance.
He applied gentle pressure on her elbow, hovering dainty pink fingers mere millimeters from the reflective surface.
“Well?” his voice was, blank, as usual. His brothers were better at this ‘interrogation‘, they put feeling into it. They could scare someone with a shout. Him? He just didn’t have it in him.
His boot ground her muffled cries into the sand.
“Well?”
Did fairies need to breathe? This one had a nose, but the book said they were natural shapeshifters, likely mimicking the most valuable prey. He’d find out.
The pressure abated enough for her to twist her head sideways and she screamed in an illegible language, “^** &*^*-”
He immediately stomped its head in the sand, “I’ve heard you speak English, talk or I’ll see exactly why these walls scare you.”
“NO-no-Please I’m sorry I won- please I-”
PAP
A sharp slap echoed off the walls. Her cheek resembled a soft, pink ball with a red streak slashed across the middle. A breathtaking visage. He reminded himself to turn back the violence. Too much and it might get used to the pain. Moderation is king in all things, except success.
“I-I don’t know, please I swear, I don’t know wh-”
He raised a gloved hand in warning. “You claim to have trapped five people, yourself and four enemies, in a place you’ve never been before?”
Her knife-ear twitched, a tell.
“You’ve been here before,”
“No! I-”
“Can’t say I didn’t try,”
He shoved its index finger into the wall. Silver melted around her fingers and engulfed it like slimy, silvery sludge.
“ARRRH HARAAAAA AHHHHHHHHHHH! STOP-pL- STO-AAAHAH AAAA-”
It let out a long, ear-piercing scream. The sound pressed into his eardrums with a constant, uncomfortable pressure.
“-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
Beautiful cadence to It, could pass for a falsetto if one squinted hard enough.
“-AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-!”
The lungs on this creature.
Must not need to breathe.
He slowly withdrew her finger from the wall. A small stump came out with a wet ‘pop!’ He found no finger, just a bright pink fleshy nub. The line between skin and muscle tissue was smudged to a mushy pink. Similar to chemical burns.
The fairy seemed to have exhausted its lungs. Its eyes were pried open wide as a football, glossy and shooting every which way. Its chest heaved short, hacking breaths and an erratic tremble possessed its form.
Conclusive to acid attack victims.
He caught movement in the corner of his eye, a small hole in the wall where he’d pried her stuck finger in, an even smaller bone sinking into it. An almost inaudible crrk-crk-crrk like when his brothers cracked open chicken bones to eat the marrow.
In no time at all, he was staring at a perfectly flawless mirror.
"Odd," he mumbled.
Mirrors can’t eat people.