|
Post by Silas Rosier on Apr 10, 2009 13:42:15 GMT 1
And, without hesitation, Silas crashed his heel down into Dacian’s diaphragm.
“Close enough for you?” he laughed again, twirling his wand ominously and the ropes tightened up once more to stop the vampire interrupting.
Fuck not gloating, Dacian was officially asking for it now. “You’re right on that last point though, you can’t hurt me. In fact you haven’t even gotten close to me except when I choose to get near you. Just can’t seem to win, can you?
“I mean, honestly, if you’re going to trash talk at least do it properly. Crucifixes, fire, holy water, relics, stakes, sunlight, must I continue? Your kind can drop down dead just like anybody else. In some cases you’re even easier to knock off. If you like we can head up to the roof; I’ll have a beer and use you as a footstool, then we can chat until the dawn rolls in.”
Something bright caught his eye. A glint of metal reflecting the streetlights. What the? Was that a sword hilt? Silas resumed circling around until he could get a better view of what turned out to be a long scabbard that had gotten secured to Dacian’s leg by the ropes. “Oh, that’ll do nicely,” Silas said appreciatively, flicking his wand and causing the sword to pull itself out and float horizontally in the air. “I’ll add this to the collection of knives I stole from you before. It’ll make a nice centrepiece.”
The sword moved through the air, slowly, deliberately. It straightened up to sit poised over Dacian’s chest – right over the heart. “It doesn’t have to be a stake, right? Anything that causes enough damage. I don’t think you’ll last too long if I just cut your heart from your body.” Right on cue the sword started spinning, pressing down on Dacian’s chest steadily as though about to slowly drill through him before stopping suddenly and pulling back. “But,” Silas added abruptly, “As I said, you won’t die tonight. I have other plans as far as you’re concerned.”
In a flash the sword rose up, and - with the sickening noise of muscle, flesh and sinew being torn apart - sliced between Dacian’s ribs, impaling his left lung and burying itself to the hilt.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t have fun though,” Silas laughed, voice chipper as though talking to a beloved friend. “Thought that was fitting. If you’re so intent on getting my lungs, might as well get yours first. I wonder how much blood a vampire can shed before passing out? Lets experiment shall we?” he announced dramatically, loosening the bonds again. Whether it was to give Dacian a chance to get a word in or to take full enjoyment out of any screaming was a good question.
Either way Dacian wasn’t getting to call for help any time soon, because a charm to cancel out any nosie to outsiders was next in order. Torturing others was no fun when you got interrupted.
|
|
Dacian
Vampire (A)
Creature of the Night
Posts: 330
|
Post by Dacian on Apr 10, 2009 14:53:31 GMT 1
Heel to the diaphragm; that shut him up. Just as well really – if he kept on taunting, Silas was going to kill him quickly and that would be no good for Vivian at all. Dacian managed a pained gasp and tried to double over as the ropes constricted his neck again and silenced him properly. The pain was distracting but Dacian managed a steady defiant glare at his captor.
Apparently Silas knew far too much. His lip curled as if he’d be snarling when Silas mentioned dawn. The vampire was only just recovering from his last bout of sunshine and that hadn’t even been real. Suffice to say, Dacian didn’t much like the idea, so much so that it showed. Apparently six-hundred years wasn’t enough to make the immortal fearless. Even the ropes were starting to get too tight and not physically. Dacian hated to be restrained, particularly in small spaces and being roped was enough confinement to cause an edge of panic to his struggles.
At the sound of his sword unsheathing, Dacian paused to watch the blade float up, controlled by Silas’ wand. His teeth gnashed, his eyes rolling in fury. That was his property, and the vampire was not keen on sharing. He’d be yelling by now if he could but the most he could matter was a barely audible broken growl. The knives he could replace but the sword? Masterpieces like that were few and far between. He’d had to kill to get that one.
His eyes followed the sword, his struggling lessening so he could pay more attention. Having his own sword poised over his hest was a large cause for concern and he even stopped moving altogether when it touched down right above his heart. Silas was right, enough damage to the heart and he wouldn’t be able to heal it. He thought that might be the end of it as it started to twirl ominously. Then it pulled back. Dacian shot Silas another hateful glare, wordlessly communicating just how much pain and suffering he was owed.
Other plans? That didn’t sound good. Dacian didn’t have much more time to ponder on that as his sword came down sharply, piercing his ribs just to the left of his heart and somehow sliding in all the way to the hilt. Absently he heard the sound of metal on stone. The blade must have slipped through the gaps in the cobbles into the soil beneath, not unlike the way it has moved between the bone of his ribs and into the delicate lattice of his lungs.
Whereas Dacian would have enjoyed the freedom of speech before now, the involuntary response to breath in as the stabbing pain coursed through him only made it worse now his chest had room to expand. His blood didn’t flow quite as liberally as a human’s might, but the dark cloth of his shirt grew a slowly widening patch of slickness (there would be a similar larger one under him) and after a few rounds of snarling, shouting and expressing his pain in insults, dark blood began to bubble from his mouth.
The pain was excruciating. He was making it worse by all his cursing and laboured breathing but even Dacian couldn’t act rationally with his chest skewered. One thing Silas wasn’t going to learn from him unless he spent all night at this was that vampires couldn’t pass out through blood loss. That required an oxygen deficiency, and so as he didn’t need air to life, he would be conscious until the sun rose or Silas finally staked him. Even if he was completely drained, he would be ravenously hungry and still feel all of Silas’ torture.
|
|
|
Post by Silas Rosier on Apr 11, 2009 8:43:24 GMT 1
Silas eyed the steadily widening patch of blood and the vampires thrashing with a nonchalant sort of ease. At the present, Dacian was a bit like a doll, one Silas held no particular fondness for. There was no use crying over a doll if it broke, no need to worry if it was hurting, or to care about its feelings, especially when you disliked it. Besides, it was so much more interesting to throw it off a balcony and watch it break. Or stab it with a sword, as the case may be.
Silas stopped his pacing, twirling the wand a bit like a conductors baton while he waited for Dacian’s tirade to subside. He didn’t seem concerned, or offended, just amused. A smirk was glued onto his face. He was more preoccupied with how Dacian was still making noise with his throat stuffed with his own blood. An admirable effort on the vampires part: he must be thoroughly pissed.
“Pity I can’t break you too much. I’ll have to stick with tradition,” Silas continued with a vauge hint of what might be called disappointment. “Broken bones, flayed skin, perforation of the major organs, removal of those you won’t miss. All would inconvenience you a bit much. Hell, I can’t even take your eyes out because you’ll be needing those in a moment.” The wand stopped it’s twirling as a thought came to Silas’s mind. “Well, you won’t need both of them at any rate. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you a moment to ponder about which one is your favourite,” he laughed. “Can’t rush things just yet.”
The wand rounded to face Dacian again. “But, for now, the warm-up,” Silas announced. Then, in the same offhanded manner, “Crucio.”
|
|
Dacian
Vampire (A)
Creature of the Night
Posts: 330
|
Post by Dacian on Apr 21, 2009 23:34:33 GMT 1
OOC: Just to lay on the guilt - no excuses whatsoever! Get to it, woman. PS: Bow before my simile of awesome. Like the foaming head on a frothy beverage, the blood bubbling up his trachea was forming a pool in the back of his throat and down in his lungs. The vampire, not one to waste the red stuff, swallowed what he could between vicious curses. He felt like he should squirm, try anything to not be pinned to the pavement like a insect on display. Dacian however maintained his blades well, and he was not keen on the idea of doing Silas’ job for him and slicing up his own heart by struggling.
Clenching his teeth and fists, his mantra of abuse lessened to a constant grumble under his breath. He just glared instead, reminding himself that at least the wizard’s attention was not on Vivian. He could handle a little torture. Albeit not with any grace – he tended to scream a lot – but Silas had already confessed that he was not going to kill him, and Dacian hoped at least that titbit was true. Pain was something the vampire was used to – he’d experienced enough of it – but he was generally better at dealing it than taking it. The sensation of pain generally made him grumpier. Not to mention revengeful.
Silas was ranting again. Megalomaniacs seemed to have a habit of doing that. Dacian wasn’t particularly listening, he was more concerned about deciding which of his arms to rip of first when he got free, but if Silas was going to gouge out his eye, Dacian really was going to take an eye for an eye. Eyes took a long time to heal, and vision was an important hunting tool to a vampire. His eyesight was only just back to perfect after having both his corneas burned by Silas’ Lumos solem spell. If it was possible: Dacian now hated the man even more.
The warm up? For a horrific moment, Dacian thought Silas might be planning on killing him anyway and as the wand turned on him he flinched, expecting another dose of fatal Lumos solem. Instead, he got Crucio. In the split second before the spell took hold, Dacian’s mind managed to dredge up the translation from the back of his mind. Crucio, to torment. Derived from the word crux meaning a torture block, a stake, the cross.
He was going o be crucified.
He would have preferred Lumos solem.
His vision turned green as if he was suddenly bathed in green neon lights, or green lightning bolts were hitting the ground just near him. From the pain suddenly coursing through him, the bolts may as well have hit him. Dacian’s eyes were wide and unseeing, and he couldn’t hear much past the deafening white noise in his ears but he was sure he was screaming and it was probably anything but manly. His clenched fists felt like nails punched through them. Pain seemed to concentrate down his spine and across his shoulders as if he had been laid on a cross.
He expected to feel the sickening nausea that usually accompanied the touch of a holy relic but it didn’t come. It was just the pain, crashing against him wave after wave. Cocooned as he was in the coils of rope, all he could do was curve his spine away from the burning, but the sword through his chest kept him down. The hilt pressed firmly against him now, and his bowing lifted the sword a few inches from the ground beneath him but he was no closer to escaping. He just wanted the excruciating pain to stop. It felt like his bones were on fire, like his skull was cracking open all at once.
Vampires had a natural immunity to some magics, but it followed the same rule of thought that some vampires followed. Some vampires believed that a holy relic could only do as much damage as you believed it could. The damage it did you was based on the faith of the inflictor as well as the faith of the inflicted. Dacian had always believed in his God, so he had dismissed that idea as soon as he’d heard it. If anything he deserved the pain of all things holy, though he might not want it, he was damned after all. With the knowledge of the spell’s origins, there was nothing Dacian could do to resist the full force of it. He bucked and screamed under the effect of it, the sword cutting through more intercostal rib muscle on the entry and exit wounds and was threatening to slice into the heart if he moved too dangerously to the right.
|
|
Edward Johns
Adult (A)
The Hog's Head Barkeep
Totally screwed.
Posts: 118
|
Post by Edward Johns on Apr 23, 2009 15:59:03 GMT 1
Why wouldn’t the pain go away? Clumsily Edward had picked himself up off the floor where he’d woken up to find that the man that had just succeeded in beating the crap out of him was gone. He stumbled around the bar, still regaining consciousness, and gently placed his face in a bucket of ice for the drinks. Pain seared across his face at the touch of the ice but soon went numb again.
Once he was certain he was an inch from frostbite Ed set about putting his nose back in order. He saw in the mirrors on the wall behind the bar that the swelling and bruising was already coming up. His eyes were starting to go puffy and a deep shade of purple. With a sickening crunch and a hiss of pain, the man reset his nose to the angle it was supposed to be. As he did a fresh stream of blood oozed out, dripping from his chin onto his already reddened clothes.
It was still incomprehensible that he’d been attacked in his own pub. Sure it had happened before, but Ed usually won. Being beaten this bad was a new sensation. He tried to form a few words to test out the damage but found talking only brought more pain, from both his nose and his jaw which he’d obviously hit when he’d landed on the floor. Slowly he checked himself over, no broken bones, just a dislocated shoulder which was soon popped back in, and no signs of rape. The guy had been rather suggestive so it was better to be safe than sorry. Ed shuddered at the thought then remembered Viv.
Wildly he scanned the pub for her, the stranger, as noticed before was gone but so was she. Ed stopped dead still and listened. Was that a woman screaming? It sounded like it was coming from outside next to the tap room. Instinctively he reached for his shotgun, loaded it with rocksalt rounds and proceeded cautiously outside. What he saw was most certainly the last thing he ever expected to see, but it wasn’t the most unwelcome sight.
It was Dacian who was screaming Ed saw through his puffy eyes, and it was Silas who was making him scream. ‘What the fuck?’ was the main thought that came to mind. The man raised his weapon and aimed is squarely at Silas’ chest. The other man had now confirmed what Ed had suspected all along, he was insane but then again so was the vampire. He cringed as he saw just why Dacian was screaming like a woman, being bound tightly, impaled by a sword and having the Crucio curse rip through your body was bound to be painful.
“Whad are you doing oud here Silas? Where's Vivian?” Ed stammered through a swollen nose and jaw, still pointing the shotgun at his chest. There was something oddly enjoyable about Dacian’s screams of pain; Ed’s inner sadist revelled at the sight. Part of the younger man wanted to join in, to offload some rounds of rocksalt into the vampire’s already stricken body. He had stolen Cassie off of Ed when he’d had no right to. Thrown the man’s help back in his face and now here Dacian was practically at his mercy. For a moment he lowered his weapon, in thought.
But then he heard Cassie’s voice, begging him to stop this torture, to save Dacian her friend. She wouldn’t want this; she’d want him to stop it. He was conflicted. As much as he didn’t want it to, Cassie’s pleading voice of reason in all this madness grew louder and louder. He didn’t want to listen to it, so far that voice had brought nothing but pain but how could he not? It drowned out the thoughts to join Silas, told Ed he wasn’t mad like the man in front of him obviously was. Ed sighed, why did he always listen to Cassie?
“Silas, led him go,” he shouted firmly, re-aiming the shotgun back as Silas’ chest, in what could only be described as one of the largest acts of humility Ed had demonstrated, ever. What the hell was he doing? Why was he attempting to save Dacian, the thing who had been the embodiment of his hate the last month and a bit? Fuck, he must really love Cassie if he was willing to do this, willing to threaten Silas, a man who was not known for his mercy or compassion.
|
|
|
Post by Silas Rosier on Apr 24, 2009 6:20:43 GMT 1
The torture was continuous. Silas wasn’t exactly the type to give people a breather, and Dacian hadn’t earned the small mercy of an occasional respite between the crippling spasms of agony. Silas wanted to inflict as much pain as possible, not try and make it easier for him. He watched as Dacian’s body automatically bucked up away from the source of whatever pain he was feeling, the screaming filling up the small alley with deafening intensity. A smirk played across Silas’s lips. The vampire could twist, thrash and scream until his sanity or his throat gave out first, it didn’t matter. A lesson needed to be learned here today.
Actually, wait.
What the hell was he doing?
Fuck Cain and the whole stupid scheme.
Dacian was here. Now. Defeated. Fucking beaten, something Silas had been trying to achieve for the better part of a month. The initial curiosity about how the plan would have played out was starting to give way under the logic that he shouldn’t be playing around with this chance. End it now before it slipped away. Plus, he just really wanted to see Dacian’s intestines strewn all over the ground.
He could deal with Cain and the girl later. Cain had only gotten the upper hand before because he’d caught him by surprise. Cassie couldn’t have any way of knowing he had been involved in her kidnapping either. He could kill Dacian tonight, blame his death on Cain, then blast Cain to hell at the shack and play the hero. Or if Cain had let slip to Cassie about his involvement he could pin both their deaths on the vampire and vanish his corpse, setting the ministry on a goose chase for a dead man. The whole headache inducing affair could be over, and he’d have nothing to suffer for it.
For Dacian, Ed’s timing was nothing short of Divine Intervention.
Silas had been a little distracted by his sudden epiphany to notice the other man had even arrived. Ed’s voice suddenly cut through his thoughts, and Silas’s head snapped around to find the barman levelling a weapon at his chest. With Silas’s concentration broken, the torture curse faltered and died.
“Jesus Christ, Ed, what happened to your face?” There was no hint of concern in the question, just derision. He wasn’t even seriously asking, Edwards’s physical appearance had struck him as odd and he was merely reacting to it.
The gun? Inconsequential. Ed had taken the liberties of aiming that thing at him numerous times in the past and never once had he had the balls to pull the trigger. Why would tonight be any different? He was doing Ed a favour by ending Dacian’s life, the barman would see that.
Although Edward’s sudden arrival hadn’t been expected – or welcome for that matter – Silas quickly look it in his stride. His gaze promptly jumped back to the vampire’s beaten body. Let him go? Heh. “No, I don’t think so. You’re just in time for the execution, and my night’s coup-de-grace.” Ed was free to watch if he was so inclined. If he had any ideas of squealing to anyone of importance, well, that was what memory charms were for. For some reason the thought that Ed might actually try and intervene didn’t cross his mind. It was Ed. What was Ed going to do?
In response to Silas’s wand, the sword moved, withdrawing itself from Dacian’s body with an agonising slowness. That wasn’t enough though, no. The sword twisted on its way out, like a reverse drill, widening the wound an adding that extra bit of insult to injury. The point of this? Avada Kedavra was the coward’s way out. If you wanted to kill someone, you had to be original about it.
“What do you think? Y-Front dissection1 and do this one organ at a time? I could stand to learn something about anatomy.”
The sword poised itself to Dacian’s left shoulder and started bearing down for the first incision.
1 Yes, cartoon visual aids are needed. What Dacian has to look forward to: Part 1 and Part 2.
|
|
Edward Johns
Adult (A)
The Hog's Head Barkeep
Totally screwed.
Posts: 118
|
Post by Edward Johns on Apr 25, 2009 15:39:19 GMT 1
Edward’s heart began to increase in rate. Silas was unpredictable, that he’d known since he’d first met the other man. Silas had a tendency to hurt people and enjoy himself while doing it, he was a sadist. There had been many a time where he'd broken Ed's fingers for touching a girl from Scores, afterwards he'd always smiled. Maybe it was because he was stupid but even after those incidents, Ed hadn’t been scared of him until now. He felt nothing but fear towards Silas. Fear at what the older man was doing to Dacian and fear at the fact he could be next.
The question about Ed’s face was left unanswered as he watched on in silent horror for a moment. The sound the sword made coming out of flesh and bone was sickening, causing him to almost retch in disgust. Cassie’s voice got more and more urgent. He had to stop this somehow. Yes he would have much preferred to have Dacian dead but not be there to witness it or even be driven to save him like he was being now.
“Silas, I mean id, stop or I shoot,” he shouted firmly through the swelling that was fast coming up. Ed pointed the shot gun at Silas’ shoulder, finger hovering over the trigger. He eyed the sword as it hovered over a pathetically gurgling Dacian. All he could hear now was the blood rushing through his ears. Was he really going to shoot Silas Rosier? What if he missed, hell what if he didn’t? Silas would surely kill him either way. Rocksalt was far from fatal but it hurt like a son of a bitch. It inflicted wounds with in-built salt, ouch.
As the sword got closer and closer to the vampire, Cassie’s voice inside his head got more and more desperate. He had to act now. “Silas, stop!” Ed called, knowing full well the man wouldn’t listen. After he had shouted, his fingers tapped the shotgun’s trigger and the gunshot echoed through the snowy alley. Edward took in fast, rasping breaths. He’d just shot Silas fucking Rosier to save Dacian. By sparing Dacian’s life he’d probably have to watch he and Cassie ride off into the sunset together now. so far life had been a bitch like that.
|
|
Dacian
Vampire (A)
Creature of the Night
Posts: 330
|
Post by Dacian on Apr 25, 2009 19:49:32 GMT 1
Edward’s arrival was as sudden as the pain’s absence. One moment he was sure he felt like he was experiencing as much pain as it was possible to feel, and then it stopped. Burning aftershocks still rippled through his limbs, but he’d run out of the will to make a noise about it. Like a thousand stings tingling all over, the pain slowly subsided and the night returned to him where there had only been the pain.
First to return was scent. The cold night air, tinged with the metallic scent of his blood. Then his eyes flickered open, and he could see through a blurry haze that slowly came into focus. Silas stood over him, and in the far corner of his vision, Edward, levelling a shotgun at Silas. From when he could tell, Edward was telling Silas to let him go. Fairly sure he was delusional from the green pain he was assured he was back to reality by the pain of the sword being withdrawn. Not only did it make the pain all through his chest flare, the twisting of it forced his ribs apart and he heard the dull crack of fractured bones.
He gagged and spluttered something that might have been a curse or a scream as the blade came free, his left lung deflating with the lack of pressure keeping it full. Not such an issue for the vampire who needed no oxygen, but the resulting pain was infuriating enough. He felt the press of the sword blade on his shoulder, and then it was gone with a gunshot crack. The loud noise was enough to spur Dacian into action, albeit slow and painful action.
The sword had cut one or two rope coils, and it was enough for Dacian to get some freedom. Wriggling his right arm free, he spared no attention on Edward and acted as if the youth was not even there as he twisted with a wheezing hiss of pain and clutched Silas’s nearest ankle. Yanking, he dragged the wizard closer, grabbed his arm and sunk in his teeth. Using Silas’ lapel as a support, he dragged Silas even closer. Even though he was unable to get up, the vampire was making his best efforts to get to the wizard’s neck. His wriggling freed his left arm and with more tentative movements than his right, used it to grab Silas’ other arm.
Silas seemed to be recovering from the gunshot, why he wasn’t dead Dacian was not lucid enough to explain to himself yet, and Dacian released the arm he held in his mouth to give Silas a firm head butt. That would be a nice bruiser if Dacian wasn’t planning on ripping his throat out.
The more movement he made, the loser the rope coils were becoming. He wasn’t wasting the time to manually unravel himself, more preoccupied with laying as much hurt on Silas as he could in his current condition. He went to lunge for Silas’s throat, but it seemed the wizard had caught on and the vampire met a little resistance in the form of Silas’s forearm. Clamping teeth down on it again, Dacian drew his right fist back in preparation to land it somewhere on Silas. The throbbing pain that accompanied every movement was a little restricting, but he made up for it in blind fury.
|
|
|
Post by Silas Rosier on Apr 27, 2009 17:48:00 GMT 1
Ed was trying to order him to stop again. Through the corner of his eye Silas saw the barrel of the shotgun move, but again, he ignored it. Instead he watched the sword as it started slicing into Dacian’s shoulder, cutting two of the coils of rope as it progressed. Ed shouted again, a strange note in his voice now, but it didn’t matter. Ed was hardly going to-
The gun resonated like a crack of thunder. Silas was blasted off his feet by the sheer force of the shot, unable to make a noise because the air had been forced out of his lungs. His thought process stopped functioning coherently. Was it shock? He was aware that he’d been hit, that he was in PAIN, that he was on the ground, and that he needed to get up, but that the extent of it.
Silas gasped for air and attempted to roll onto his uninjured shoulder. Did it hurt from the shot or the impact with the ground? Who cares, what mattered was holy fuck it BURNED. He groaned, making a failed effort to prop himself up. He didn’t get to complain, his coat had absorbed most of it. If the gun had of been loaded with anything other than rock salt he wouldn’t have a shoulder to complain about.
But, you know, God forbid he actually get a moment to recover. Something had him by the ankle, dragging him. Silas tried to push away with his other leg then throw his arm out to yank himself free but a vicelike grip snatched his wrist and something sharp clamped into his arm. Dacian. Silas gave an unintelligible shout as he felt the vampire’s weight press against him. His coat was already littered with holes from the rock salt and dirt and snow from the ground; he didn’t need blood on it either.
His arm was released, but the victory was short lived. The last thing Silas was treated to was the sight of Dacian’s furious expression and the metallic scent of blood wafting from his breath before his forehead crashed down onto Silas’s eye socket. Yeah, ow. The blow wasn’t as hard as it had been the last time Dacian had head-butted him, but it still felt like his skull had just been cracked open.
Instinctively Silas threw up an arm to protect his face, a stabbing sensation tearing through his shoulder with the movement. Teeth sunk back into his arm again.
Wait a second. How was he still clinging onto his wand throughout all of this?
Silas didn’t question it. It was miraculously still in his other hand and that was all that mattered. Immediately he took aim at Dacian’s face and a red burst of light – the first thing to come to his mind – erupted from the end like a flare. The stunning spell temporarily illuminated the alley, but it was apparently ultimately useless, vanishing into the night as it hit its target.
Ed was going to have to jump in soon or Silas was going to be in more trouble than he was already.
|
|
Edward Johns
Adult (A)
The Hog's Head Barkeep
Totally screwed.
Posts: 118
|
Post by Edward Johns on Apr 28, 2009 14:23:13 GMT 1
Something actually effecting Silas was a shock for Ed. The man was usually so stoic and indifferent to whatever Ed tried to do to him the younger man had half expected the rocksalt round to have no affect on him what so ever. That the grains of salt would just bounce off him like he was some sort of iron man. As Silas went down, Ed gaped in shock. As soon as the older man had recovered from the shotgun shooting he was going to kill Ed and not in a pleasant quick way.
Ed’s first instinct was to run and hide from Silas like some sort of child. That way he held off whatever retribution was coming his way for a little while. No, he couldn’t. He had to stay where he was to make sure the two pig-headed idiots in front of him didn’t kill each other. Though he would have left them if he was sure they cancelled each other out and killed each other, but there was no chance of that happening. Either Dacian or Silas would be the winner and, why have just one making your life hell when you can have them both?
The scene before him seemed to play out in slow motion. Silas went down without trying to kill Ed and then Dacian came back to life so to speak. Edward watched through swollen eyes as the vampire began to attack. He cringed as Dacian bit and head butted Silas. Now the tables were turned and Dacian was going to kill Silas. This time there was no Cassie in Ed’s head but there was some twisted sense of loyalty to his original enemy.
Expertly Ed re-aimed the shotgun in his hands at Dacian. As well as having the both make his life hell after this, he was going to have them both out to kill him. Excellent. Inwardly he groaned as he pulled the trigger. Oddly enough as the shot resonated through the alley, the man wondered where Vivian was and if it was worth hiding with her.
He swore at the two men on the ground before backing away slightly. Instinctively he readied a hand to come up over his face. The face had already received enough damage for one night. “Both of you, ged oud of here. Dacian, you can come inside undil Silas has lefd,” Ed said decisively, reloading the shotgun and raising it again at the two others. Now they knew he meant it when he brandished it maybe they would actually listen to him for once.
|
|