AN: I was a bit stuck for this one at first. I wrote the canyon, then blood, thought "how can I stick lamia in next," then whoosh! The rest just fell onto the page. Each prompt steered what I was writing in a different direction when the last started to dry up. And here's the result. Enjoy.
WARNINGS: mention of rape
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The Last Word
Prompts: canyon; blood; lamia; rape; wind; alien; office; yacht;
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The canyon was deep and foreboding. There was blood everywhere. No one had seen a lamia in centuries, but here, now, lay a dead husk of such a creature.
"Who would do such a thing?" My companion asked.
I look at him. Sad eyes reflecting my complex emotions. Lamiae. Dangerous. Beautiful. A definite threat to humans. But loving, nurturing to the young.
"Isn't it obvious?"
He didn't answer. I didn't expect him to.
...
...
...
"Is it- Did they-" He trailed off.
I knew what he was trying to ask. Rape. I'd thought the same myself the second I'd set eyes on the poor creature. There were just too many signs.
I sighed.
"I believe they may have. ...Whoever they may be."
He looked at me questioningly.
"It is not right to make accusations without just reason. I do have my theories, and I admit I do believe I know who did this.
"This, however," I said indicating the poor female's torturous last moments, "seems ...not ... ...like... them."
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The wind howled around us as we carried the tragic form back through the dark canyon.
"Night will be on us soon." It wasn't a question. Just an observation.
"It will." I agreed.
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We're stopped at a junction. They're checking most cars. We don't look like tourists, but we don't look like locals either.
"Hello officer." I say cheerfully in an Indonesian accent. Not my first choice but it was the only cover I could get at short notice. I hope it doesn't draw too much interest.
The man leans in with a grin.
Just my luck, the guard likes Asian girls. I take advantage and flutter my eyelids, putting on a 'pretty and innocent' face. I don't expect much, I'm not Asian and he'll realise the second he sees my face, hopefully it's all about the accent with this one.
Beside me, I hear Will mutter a quick prayer. He doesn't do religion but I understand why he feels the need to right now.
I find myself hoping that if, hopefully not but if, they check the trunk - something I feel terrible about but had to do - they'd assume the lamia was an alien. Or better yet a prop, dummy, or something for a show. Our papers say we're film makers after all.
We wait.
He scans the car with his torch.
...
He scans our faces.
...
He stands.
...
...
He indicates for us to drive on.
Breathing out, we do.
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We were back at the office. The office. A joke. We were in a motel room. No need to draw attention to ourselves. I was supposed to be dead after all.
"Magnus."
I turn. Will is standing by the window. The lamia lay on the bed, a plastic sheet between it and the covers.
"I don't think we can stay here."
I don't ask but he continues.
"I think we're found. Look."
He's pointing but very subtly, he clearly believes we are being watched.
I turn my gaze the way he indicates. Yes, we are being watched. Two men on the roof opposite. Likely two more on ground level somewhere. I thank my forethought, black wig and glasses. Not shades, just glasses. To break up my face, make it harder to recognise me.
"Do you think they know?"
It's an open question, could mean anything. I assume he means who we are or about the lamia.
"Probably." I answer.
Just then there's a knock at the door.
We freeze.
I look at the form on the bed.
Will reacts first. Throws a sheet over it. And a blanket over that.
I walk to the door.
There's another knock. Just the one.
"I know you're in there." A voice on the other side says.
I place my gloved hand on the door handle.
"I know who you work for. You're hard to find, your people. I have a job for you."
I trade glances with Will. He nods. I know, somewhere, he has a weapon ready.
I open the door.
"Hello." Says the man standing there.
I don't answer immediately. I check him over quickly before I speak. "Come in." Polite but curt.
He enters. Almost sits on the bed. Stands by the wardrobe instead.
"I'll be blunt." He says. Straight to the point, good. "We need help."
"Who's we?" Will asks.
The man looks at him. "An investor." He states vaguely. "Unimportant. What is important is why. We found something. They won't tell me what so don't ask."
"You don't really know anything about us do you?" Will again.
The man reluctantly shakes his head. "No. But my employers do. They said to tell you that it's not what happened but to who. And then show you my arms." He finishes by rolling up one sleeve.
I can't help but stare. This man's an abnormal? The pockets on his arms and the scaly nature of the skin around them suggest so.
I signal to Will my interest.
"Alright. I'll bite. What's in it for us?" I ask the man.
"The use of our labs and other facilities."
Will and I share a significant look.
"Where?" I ask.
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The ocean is flat and the ship steady as our helicopter lands on the helipad. A personal yacht. I don't know why but Tesla sprang to my mind when the man'd first said it.
We still don't know the reason we're here.
The four men watching us from earlier are reverently carrying the lamia in a hastily acquired coffin. More discreet and easier to buy, in most places, than a body bag - fewer questions.
We enter the body of the ship, are led down towards the stern.
As we pass the labs, the men carrying the lamia break away from the group. I make to follow.
"I promise. She will remain untouched. Please, we will only be a short while." The man, the abnormal, placates my worries easily. I trust him. I'm not sure why. Behind me, Will grunts but doesn't say anything.
We continue towards what turns out to be a guest suite. One that has been redecked as a miniature hospital, complete with theatre.
Will groans as we enter.
I look the way he is.
I was right.
"What happened to him?" Will asks.
"We're not fully sure." The man answers.
"I can talk for myself." The patient adds snarkily. Typical Tesla.
I walk up to the bed. He looks bad. I haven't seen him this bad in decades. Longer even. I think the last time was when he was human.
"What happened Nikola?" I ask, cutting to the chase. I know why I'm here and I'm not leaving yet. But I need to know.
"Helen." He says. "I think she's back."
My blood runs cold for a moment before I recover. "Who?"
What he says turns my blood to ice. "Afina."
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edit 28/10/13: spacing corrected.