Dark Hands Washed
Author's note: After I wrote this chapter, I sat back and laughed. I guess it's not all that funny, but it filled me with so much joy! It's Happy hour! Once again, my spell check died. Forgive me.
Reply to Mireia: Naaaaaar, I totally jacked that chapter up! Hahaha, be amazed by my amazing knowledge of facts that are incorrect! Dankle kindly, for I have fixed the mistakes. X.X Anywho, thank you for such a complement! I dislike how soft some demons get, I mean, they're demons, after all. But, anyway, here is the last part of chapter eight.
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That goat chapter, Tso Lan
New York, New York
The bustling street of New York were filled with the people, as usual, rushing about in the New York way.
Somewhere, however, the only rushing was the blood in a well dressed man.
On the outside, Valmont looked calm, collected, and rather tense. A paradox of a man, this meant everything was looking normal with this crime lord.
He was sitting on a very uncomfortable chair in the Dragon's Den. Oh, the Dragon's Den. The place where criminals went when the heat got hot, and where they waited until the smoke steamed down. It was a very shady place, but he was very grateful for the doctor that was in, he at least had a license.
He shared the room with other criminal, he was sure that they were low, filthy criminals that got in here just because they stole a TV.
Valmont aimed for discretion by hiding his face behind an aged Times magazine, though it was hard to be discreet when one is in a dress. Oh, a sorcerer's robe. Urg, he knew what a sorcerer's robe looked like, and this wasn't it. Though he did enjoy the way it made his shoulders look...
His chilling blue eyes peered over the top of the pericardial. A large man turned on the small box T.V. that was screwed into the wall. He turned up the volume on some hideously violent show and squatted back down.
Valmont made a scathing noise, sliding his stare to make sure his cane was still there. It was.
"Yo!?" A large black man beat the side of the T.V. with his huge palm. It flickered but the picture remained the same.
A lizardy face, blue in colour, looked upon the audience with a cold stare, a pink tongue flailing as he talked. (Valmont assumed it was male)
"Do not attempt to avoid this message," The creature hiss, his three fingered hand brushed back his very Dracula hair.
Yelling something profane, the black man changed the channel, yet the creature was still there, flicking his tongue, as though in mockery.
"In matter of hours, I will release the gravity from the Earth if you do not yield to the power of Tso Lan, the demon of the moon," Tso Lan continued in a voice so irritating calm that caused Valmont to drop his disinterested face, and replace it with one of surprise on his face. The demon looked off screen.
Valmont's heart skipped a beat, but not because of the very potent threat, but due to the words that came out of his mouth next.
"Chan!" The creature hissed, floating away from the camera as though to face the man. How Tso Lan knew it was Chan was anyone's guess, perhaps the Moon just knows?
The moon demon apparently was kicked hard, falling onto the camera, his back getting a mighty fine close up. This caused several of the thugs to whoop and grunt in vulgar joy. Valmont felt pressure, anger, rage in the front of his head building. He had enough of Jackie Chan for one life time.
A fight raged on the screen as Valmont pulled his very strange dagger out of his cane. The dagger was flung with astonishing skill at the TV, for he had got directly in the middle, causing the electronic to explode.
Panting, he rose from his chair and pried the dagger from the T.V.. The large black man pushed him hard, making him ricochet against his equally large friend.
"Listen up, you f-"The large thuggish white man was cut off by the opening of the Doctor's door.
His face was frightfully carefree looking, though his different sized eyes were bothersome. The Doctor's deadlocked hair hung suavely in his eyes, as he glared at the troublemakers.
"Valmont, please refrain from breaking my stuff, and ya'll sit down, Kay, Kay?" He said, quickly. The crime lord yanked the dagger out, huffily following the Doctor back into his office, as he retreated back in.
The Doctor grinned at Valmont as he took a seat next to the bedside of Emma, with a tense look on his face.
"Temper, temper," he teased, "if you keep on like that, you'll get a stroke, my friend."
The British man grunted, staring at the scared remains of her right face. Emma's skin twisted around her eyes, red and blotchy where the blood still bled. And by her mouth, the skin seemed to have just evaporated, revealing her well keep sharp white teeth.
"So…" The doctor pulled a dreadlock out of his eyes, "you do realize you are paying for my T.V."
Valmont sighed harshly, Chaaaaan.
