A Long Kiss Good Night, chapter 2
Saint Jimmy turned around to see who it was and screamed, cowering against the wall. He covered his face with his hands to shield himself of the horrible sight.
At first glance, Saint Jimmy seemed to be cowering from a perfectly normal (if pale, tall, and thin) person, but on closer notice any idiot could see that the 'person' was much too skeletally slender and deathly white to be a human being—either that, or at any rate, the 'person' suffered some serious illnesses.
His eyes were over-shiny and he had very, VERY thin eyebrows. His face was rather long, not comically long, but creepily long, with hollow cheekbones and pure white, dead-looking skin clinging tightly to his skull. It was framed by locks of greasy black hair that fell from his scalp up to just below his neck. He wore a violet 'dress' and a pitch-black cloak, which was fastened to his shoulders by large 'badges' in the shape of something resembling deer's horns, and very white, thought it looked gray compared to the man's extraordinary paleness.
If he had not been unmistakably evil, he would have been mistaked for someone very handsome (a.k.a. hot). In fact, it was this untainted evil that hung around him, (much like a cloud of smoke hangs constantly around a heavy smoker) that was the reason Saint Jimmy cowered. The evil had mutilated his once attractive face, and although he was by no means ugly, he was not pleasing to look at.
By a very old habit, he bit his lip as he surveyed Saint Jimmy, taking in every detail. "Long time, no see." he said in a voice that was slightly hoarse from lack of use, but otherwise very charming.
A trickle of blood fell from his lip as he continued chewing it, and a greedy look appeared in his eyes as he desperately sucked at it, trying to draw even more blood out of it.
Saint Jimmy looked at him. He may have been disgusted, but only for a split second, because soon his look of revulsion switched to one of cruel jeering. He had evidently (somewhat) gotten over his fright.
He said, "Vrothig, Vrothig: still with that old habit, my little emo? Still enjoying your own sour and distasteful blood? I wonder how you ever managed to get into the position of lead...creature, with that attitude of yours."
Vrothig grinned (which made him look insane; and his name is pronounced VOGE-theeg) and quickly stopped biting himself.
"I," he said, in that same strange voice of his, "have done deeds the likes of which you could never hope to achieve. The fact that I do not allow them to get very wide-spread doesn't mean they don't exist. You would not be wise to mess around with me. I always prefer to work alone, and both enemies and," he paused, "friends shall meet the same cruel and ghastly fate if they interfere with me." He opened his mouth wide and hissed/snarled at Saint Jimmy.
It was a highly intimidating gesture, but Saint Jimmy ignored it. He couldn't think of anything smart or leader-like to do.
Vrothig kept staring at Saint Jimmy straight in the eyes until they began to water from keeping them open so long.
Saint Jimmy knew something was gonna happen.
Right...Vrothig's snarl returned and he began advancing on Saint Jimmy, almost cat-like in his gait, though standing quite straight.
About......Vrothig gave a little echoing scream, looking more beast-like and zombie-ish than ever.
Now...Saint Jimmy cracked his knuckles.
Vrothig leapt forty feet straight in the air, and It began.
AN: I deliberately capitalized the 'It'.
At first glance, Saint Jimmy seemed to be cowering from a perfectly normal (if pale, tall, and thin) person, but on closer notice any idiot could see that the 'person' was much too skeletally slender and deathly white to be a human being—either that, or at any rate, the 'person' suffered some serious illnesses.
His eyes were over-shiny and he had very, VERY thin eyebrows. His face was rather long, not comically long, but creepily long, with hollow cheekbones and pure white, dead-looking skin clinging tightly to his skull. It was framed by locks of greasy black hair that fell from his scalp up to just below his neck. He wore a violet 'dress' and a pitch-black cloak, which was fastened to his shoulders by large 'badges' in the shape of something resembling deer's horns, and very white, thought it looked gray compared to the man's extraordinary paleness.
If he had not been unmistakably evil, he would have been mistaked for someone very handsome (a.k.a. hot). In fact, it was this untainted evil that hung around him, (much like a cloud of smoke hangs constantly around a heavy smoker) that was the reason Saint Jimmy cowered. The evil had mutilated his once attractive face, and although he was by no means ugly, he was not pleasing to look at.
By a very old habit, he bit his lip as he surveyed Saint Jimmy, taking in every detail. "Long time, no see." he said in a voice that was slightly hoarse from lack of use, but otherwise very charming.
A trickle of blood fell from his lip as he continued chewing it, and a greedy look appeared in his eyes as he desperately sucked at it, trying to draw even more blood out of it.
Saint Jimmy looked at him. He may have been disgusted, but only for a split second, because soon his look of revulsion switched to one of cruel jeering. He had evidently (somewhat) gotten over his fright.
He said, "Vrothig, Vrothig: still with that old habit, my little emo? Still enjoying your own sour and distasteful blood? I wonder how you ever managed to get into the position of lead...creature, with that attitude of yours."
Vrothig grinned (which made him look insane; and his name is pronounced VOGE-theeg) and quickly stopped biting himself.
"I," he said, in that same strange voice of his, "have done deeds the likes of which you could never hope to achieve. The fact that I do not allow them to get very wide-spread doesn't mean they don't exist. You would not be wise to mess around with me. I always prefer to work alone, and both enemies and," he paused, "friends shall meet the same cruel and ghastly fate if they interfere with me." He opened his mouth wide and hissed/snarled at Saint Jimmy.
It was a highly intimidating gesture, but Saint Jimmy ignored it. He couldn't think of anything smart or leader-like to do.
Vrothig kept staring at Saint Jimmy straight in the eyes until they began to water from keeping them open so long.
Saint Jimmy knew something was gonna happen.
Right...Vrothig's snarl returned and he began advancing on Saint Jimmy, almost cat-like in his gait, though standing quite straight.
About......Vrothig gave a little echoing scream, looking more beast-like and zombie-ish than ever.
Now...Saint Jimmy cracked his knuckles.
Vrothig leapt forty feet straight in the air, and It began.
AN: I deliberately capitalized the 'It'.
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