Entry tags:
FIC sniplet #4
Here you go. Had I know that I'll manage to type up the whole thing today, I'd have posted it in one piece, but, well, it's too late for that now, right?
The man hit her so hard that Valeria thought her neck would snap and she would die on the spot. She wished it would be so, as she recognized the leader of her attackers: it was a shady character known by the name of Nostromo – supposedly a sailor, most likely a hired killer. She’d seen him with Manolo before.
It was over, then. They’d found her. Her guns were gone, her bullets all spent, there was no escape anymore. She could feel that… that monster’s stinky breath in her face, and it made her gag. She wished she could throw up right into that ugly visage.
“Such a feisty little muchacha,” Nostromo growled, pawing her in obvious delight at her rage and disgust. “Seňor Durango ‘s gonna love to tame you, Princess. Oh, he’s gonna have so much fun…”
She waited until he leaned in closer, and then slammed her forehead into his face. The crunching noise as his nose and a few teeth broke gave her dark satisfaction. She couldn’t kill him, two others were holding her arms in an iron grip, but she’ll see that he didn’t forget this encounter. Ever.
Using her capturers as leverage, she pulled up both legs and gave Nostromo’s unprotected crotch a vicious kick. That stupid animal howled and bent over in pain, covering his groin. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth. Perhaps if she made him mad enough, he’d kill her…
But no, they apparently feared “El Diablo” too much to disobey his orders.
“Tie her up,” Nostromo ordered the others. “We’ll take her to our keep... and play a little with her until Seňor de Venango arrives.”
Valeria didn’t even have the time to panic – which she most certainly would have done, for this was the fate she dreaded most – when something that seemed like a blur of living darkness shot into the middle of her attackers like a missile. She thought to have seen the blurred image of flying fists and long, razor-sharp fangs in a pale face, but perhaps she’d hit her head too hard when she rammed it into Nostromo’s ugly face. Yes, that had to be the reason. She most certainly was not seeing one of the vampiresa. No way.
She felt the grip of her capturers fall away from her and heard the screams and fearful begging of the men who’d attacked her – they were begging for their lives – and she heard a strange sound, a snarl or growl, like that of an angry wolf. It seemed that whoever had come to her rescue was now massacring her attackers in an incontrollable fit of rage, not allowing any one of them to escape.
Ant then, suddenly, there was an eerily silence, broken only by the last, hoarse breaths of the dying men. A large, clawed hand lifted her head almost gently. She looked into the unholy, silver gleaming of unknown eyes and felt absolutely no fear when the bloody fangs pierced her neck like sharp needles.
Hold on, it's almost done. ;)
The man hit her so hard that Valeria thought her neck would snap and she would die on the spot. She wished it would be so, as she recognized the leader of her attackers: it was a shady character known by the name of Nostromo – supposedly a sailor, most likely a hired killer. She’d seen him with Manolo before.
It was over, then. They’d found her. Her guns were gone, her bullets all spent, there was no escape anymore. She could feel that… that monster’s stinky breath in her face, and it made her gag. She wished she could throw up right into that ugly visage.
“Such a feisty little muchacha,” Nostromo growled, pawing her in obvious delight at her rage and disgust. “Seňor Durango ‘s gonna love to tame you, Princess. Oh, he’s gonna have so much fun…”
She waited until he leaned in closer, and then slammed her forehead into his face. The crunching noise as his nose and a few teeth broke gave her dark satisfaction. She couldn’t kill him, two others were holding her arms in an iron grip, but she’ll see that he didn’t forget this encounter. Ever.
Using her capturers as leverage, she pulled up both legs and gave Nostromo’s unprotected crotch a vicious kick. That stupid animal howled and bent over in pain, covering his groin. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth. Perhaps if she made him mad enough, he’d kill her…
But no, they apparently feared “El Diablo” too much to disobey his orders.
“Tie her up,” Nostromo ordered the others. “We’ll take her to our keep... and play a little with her until Seňor de Venango arrives.”
Valeria didn’t even have the time to panic – which she most certainly would have done, for this was the fate she dreaded most – when something that seemed like a blur of living darkness shot into the middle of her attackers like a missile. She thought to have seen the blurred image of flying fists and long, razor-sharp fangs in a pale face, but perhaps she’d hit her head too hard when she rammed it into Nostromo’s ugly face. Yes, that had to be the reason. She most certainly was not seeing one of the vampiresa. No way.
She felt the grip of her capturers fall away from her and heard the screams and fearful begging of the men who’d attacked her – they were begging for their lives – and she heard a strange sound, a snarl or growl, like that of an angry wolf. It seemed that whoever had come to her rescue was now massacring her attackers in an incontrollable fit of rage, not allowing any one of them to escape.
Ant then, suddenly, there was an eerily silence, broken only by the last, hoarse breaths of the dying men. A large, clawed hand lifted her head almost gently. She looked into the unholy, silver gleaming of unknown eyes and felt absolutely no fear when the bloody fangs pierced her neck like sharp needles.
Hold on, it's almost done. ;)