Author: InvisibleAngel752 PM
"She belonged in a book, not in reality. . Instead wrapped in words, too weak to break from the bonds of paper and ink. "Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 843 - Published: 03-07-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3003319
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
They pulled her hair, ultimately taking her head up with it. Growling at the sudden pain in her neck, she sneered at the men, "Name puppet. Isn't going to do much for you to just sit there and struggle."
"Silly me," She spat, and looked to the man in front of her, "Names Angel."
"Don't play games with me sweetheart. Im here because you owe me something…do you know what that something is perhaps?" He leaned down real close to her face, letting the blade in his hand run carefully over her cheek, tracing its way down to her shaking lips.
" 'Fraid I don't honey why don't you elaborate my…empty brain?" You could see the fearlessness etched in her face, spitting in this mans soul. She wasn't here to fool around with these idiots.
"Fine, im here for your little project. What's the name again? Oh right, Easier to Run. Where's the flash drive sweetie?" He now turned to the man pinning her down to the slippery cement," Let her go." The man behind her shoved her away, she stumbled into the mans chest. Holding her close, he gripped her shoulders until they bled in his hands.
"Wouldn't you like to know? "
"Actually, I would. Now cough it up, or somebody is going home with a messed up face."
She scoffed, " Its going to be you. Your not getting anywhere near me with that blade Dunesque."
"Hmmph, well see about that." He pushed her into the alley wall, and hissed at her, gently drawing the gun from his belt," get it out and hand it over. Don't make me put a bullet in your pretty little head."
"Why do you even want it? Suddenly have an interest in a 15 year olds English homework?"
"You wrote about me sweetheart, I don't make nice with people who expose my secretes. Usually they end up on the news with a bullet lodged in what's left of their brains."
"I knew my story couldn't be that far fetched from somebody. So that you game Dunesque? Grabbing the money, shooting your little goons, and walking away the victor? I have to admit, your plan, it's a bit cliché. Time to write a new script Dunesque."
"Don't sass me girl. I don't go along with sass. And I sort of like this script, fits my lifestyle well. Sadly, it says here, that your character dies… Night, 'Angel'."
The bullet whizzed through the air, not hesitating to lodge itself in the girls body. He watched, not surprised that this death was nothing like what you see on TV. It was not at all swift and easy. He watched as she scratched at the hole the bullet had made in her head, as the blood ran over her face, over her eye lids. Yes, at last, maybe he could smell fear form this girl. She was never scared of him, it had irritated him, the way she could spit in his face and not be scared that se could end up with nothing.
"Yes, fear! Bleed it out Angel! I want to taste the fear radiating off of your pale, lifeless body!"
But no, something was wrong. He didn't feel the fear anymore, could not see it, hear it, taste it. Nothing. He slowly backed away, his goon long gone, not liking to watch him kill people. Watching the girl, who was still standing, he threw the gun to the side, not caring about prints.
"Im sorry Dunesque. I don't think I know fear. Could you…explain it to me?" No, impossible. How could this girls worlds be so clear on the verge of death? How could she be lifting her bloodied head towards him, her eyes sharp with new found anger? How could she be walking towards him, her legs not wobbly or weak? Because…she…she wasn't dying. Or even near death. She was perfectly alive.
"Yes Dunesque? Surprised im guessing, right? I don't blame you, a lot of people were…. You see, I told you who I was. Angel. Yet…you spat in my face. That wasn't very nice sweetheart. Have you finally figured out my game? No? Okay, listen. This is how this goes, you try to kill me, I still live, and now, I whip out these big boys." And on cue, black wings flapped out form behind her. They were huge, beautifully crafted… She belonged in a Maximum Ride book, not on Earth. Instead wrapped in words, too weak to break from the bonds of paper and ink. He found himself staring at those wings, those lethal wings that belonged on a raven.
"Yes, fear! Bleed it out Dunesque! I want to taste the fear radiating off of your pale, lifeless body!" And with that, she brought out a gun from no where, and shot him straight in the head.
"Goodnight Dunesque. I told you, your script needed altering."