M O N S T E R // M Y S T E R I O U S

MONSTYRIOUS HAS MOVED!!!

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Palms, neither warm nor cold, pawed at his face, manhandle and manouvre. The monster of a man was smiling, satisfied either with what he saw or Hughie's response to the music that he swore was still making his ears bleed. If only he had healing powers.

The hands fell away, but Hughie's greatest relief came when the thumping-pounding could no longer be felt in his bones. Cautiously, he pulled his fingers out of his ears and found, indeed, the ear splitting list of different sorts of girls had ended, leaving in its wake an unpleasant ringing in Hughie's ears. Now that Hughie's brain has the bandwith to think, he took in the man before him and he was finally afraid.

Few people were taller than Hughie. This had been a fact of life since he was a teenager. Others had experimented on him before, but none had been built like him. He was huge. It need only be him, no assistants to hold Hughie down and that was more frightening. No one to possibly keep the behemoth in check. Arms folded, a smirk across his face, the smug brick wall gazed down upon Hughie. Not for the first time did Hughie consider making a run for it.

a cascade of tubas electrocutes through the air by the time ilmerrisan is giving his answer, nodding once down to the wee thing of young hughie and turning away to return to his work table to shuffle through some of the paperwork. the guard remains, but now at a distance. whatever method the doctor possesses to maintain his grasp on his patients isn't outright visible, but he appears confident enough in it to turn his side to the kid.

"ja, a while. hopefully you did not have any plans for this weekend, or next, or the next after that." a chortle stiffens itself as it leaves him, a few papers drawn up from the work table top and filtered through as he returns to standing in front of the younger man.

i don't fight for my respect bitch, i fight for dick.

         in   the   moment   ,       devastation   floats   through   her   body   at   the   fact   that   butcher's   last   gift   to   her   before   all   of   this   .   .   .           it   hadn't   been   enough   to   help   nelrathe   .         with   no   choice   ,     serena   helps   august   to   his   feet   ,       draped   over   her   shoulder   with   her   arm   around   his   hips   .         she   can   feel   the   blood   trickling   from   his   wound   and   coating   his   sweatshirt   and   her   skin   ,       but   she   just   keeps   trudging   forward   .           even   when   the   mud   is   coating   her   shoes   ,       and   the   woods   begin   to   all   look   the   same   .

         ❛       we   aren't   far   enough   yet   ,     ❜                    august   says   ,       as   serena   comes   to   a   stop   .         she   knows   he's   right   .         but   her   feet   ache   more   than   they   ever   have   during   a   long   day   of   ballet   ,       and   her   rib   cage   is   constricting   .   .   .         serena   isn't   sure   how   much   farther   she   can   go   .

         ❛       i'm   tired   ,     ❜                    serena   replies   ,       soft   and   fragile   ,        but   she   forces   her   feet   to   move   again   .           she   tries   not   to   think   about   the   other   variable   ,     about   nelrathe   .           still   behind   them   .           she   doesn't   know   where   she's   going   ,       and   any   hospital   she   could   take   august   to   would   turn   them   both   back   in   .           her   shoulders   shiver   as   her   mind   races   ,       and   she   tries   to   focus   .         one   foot   in   front   of   the   other   .         nothing   can   be   helped   if   they   don't   get   away   from   here   .

         serena   steps   come   to   a   pause   ,       and   even   though   every   step   is   a   storm   from   hell   in   his   body   ,       august   grits   his   teeth   and   grunts   ,                  ❛❛        we   aren't   far   enough   yet   .      ❜❜                    his   sister's   reply   is   gentle   ,       not   a   whine   ,     but   as   if   she   regretted   having   to   burden   him   with   the   fact   .         he   buries   his   hand   in   her   greasy   curls   ,       and   pulls   her   head   to   his   face   for   an   aggressive   kiss   to   her   temple   .           it   seems   to   do   the   trick   ,       and   they   both   make   their   ways   forwards   .

         it's   only   a   few   paces   until   august   stumbles   ,       and   falls   to   his   knees   with   a   groan   .         the   pain   in   his   shoulder   seems   to   reverberate   through   every   nerve   ,       and   no   matter   how   graceful   serena   walks   ,       every   movement   shakes   and   strikes   the   foreign   object   in   his   body   .

         serena   makes   a   little   noise   as   he   falls   ,       and   august   immediately   regrets   worrying   her   .           he   hopes   nelly   is   alright   .         he   regrets   a   lot   of   things   ,       the   more   he   thinks   about   it   ,       like   letting   his   father   take   that   meeting   in   the   city   .         like   not   checking   on   masen   the   morning   of   the   funeral   .         like   not   letting   serena   keep   her   bloody   dress   .           like   letting   vought   get   to   nelly   after   swearing   he'd   protect   her   .

         ❛❛        i'm   fine   ,      ❜❜                    he   grunts   ,       wanting   to   reach   for   the   wound   ,       but   as   he   does   ,     he   feels   his   shoulder   stretch   and   winces   .

she's on the ground, letting the moments tick away as she watches the carlisle siblings vanish into the treeline in the darkness of the night. mouth pulls into a grin when they are out of view, because they are then safe. at least enough from the chaos at hand that she can now entirely focus on getting rid of the creature that she can feel grabbing the back of her body suit and the beltline of her shorts, hauling her up like yesterday's rubbish.

noir hoists nelrathe up, but his mistake comes in the form of not making sure she isn't able to move her hands. one places there over the gash in her side, pulling out from her body as he's getting her up above his knee level, and by the time that she's near his chest, she has formed from the blood strewn from her wound a dagger.

a dagger that she coils her body to use, writhing in his grip with grace despite the pain that only fuels her rage. within seconds of her being pulled from the snow, she has thrust that blade crafted of sanguine into noir's chest, penetrating his armor easily. when he releases her clothing and she hits the ground again, she has enough time to get back to her feet, the blade still prodding out of his sternum as he stumbles backwards a bit.

no amount of steps are enough to separate him from her ability to command not only her blood now, but his as well, while hers seeps into it and corrupts.

❝ don't do that. ❞ there is a firm shake of head, nymeria's gaze shifts to him instead of cobblestone beneath their feet. ❝ do not promise things you do not mean. ❞ something in her words, sharp and bitter. it is a tone she has never taken with him. солнышко, he calls her. and how nym wishes she could be. something warm, something bright. but whatever light had once lived in her, flicked like that of dying thing.

❝ people have a tendency of leaving me. ❞ it is soft laughter that follows her words. a trivial thing. or at least it should be, now that she is over a century. a hurt she should be able to cast aside easily. ❝ it is better that way, i think. ❞

the hesitance, the impatience with the humanity of folk that had come and gone before him, is reasonable. he bears it himself, though that denial has taken the form of malignant reservation in him far more often than this in her - this quiet, soft fear of being the center of a pain one can only handle so many times. the name bestowed upon her is a mark of its own, laden upon her as a blessing and a vow.

she may have a century under her petticoats, but he has more. so, so many more. if there is anything he can do? it will be to disprove the fear.

endless list of my favourite male horror characters: