Author: Elizabeth Wilde
Title: Chase
Series: Unhealthy Obsessions
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me for it
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Bloody Roar characters or the song "Wicked Ways" by Garbage, much as I wish I did. I'm not making any money, and there's really no point in suing.
'Ship: Shenlong/Shina
Classification: general, creepy stalking
Summary: Shenlong watches Shina.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: BR1 & 2
Feedback: to vampire_slayer_d@2die4.com
*I tried hard to mend my wicked ways
Acted like a lunatic for years
Lord knows I try to be good
I'd keep my promises if only I could*
I watch her leave the house for the second time in twenty-four hours. She looks around, making a quick scan of the area. Sees nothing unusual. She will continue to see nothing until I choose to reveal myself. But not yet. She's gone. Now comes the thinking between the watching, the waiting, the needing to glimpse her again.
I'm not entirely sure why I watch her, why it is she who has become the focus of my obsession. Perhaps her beauty, her strength. Such strength! She has seen much for someone so young and has survived to tell about it.
I speak of youth when I am less than three years old myself. Ironic. But there's no point in dwelling on such things. I remember more past than I can honestly claim. Some of it is too much a part of me to release. Most of it isn't... pretty. My memories are painted with the blood of those I've killed and ordered so, streaked with their screams.
More than strength makes her fascinating. Strength alone is useless at best. The things she has experienced, the scars left by those things, have allowed her to see more than most people imagine. Knowledge is a beautiful thing. She knows the place where pain, pleasure, cruelty, and kindness melt together in a vibrant wash of ecstasy. She understands. So few people understand; fewer still appreciate the understanding.
It's been more than a week since the phone call. I might believe she had left off thinking of me, save for the nervous glances when she leaves the house, the way I see her peering out the window from time to time, beautiful blue eyes searching. She's still thinking, wondering. Wanting.
I know this is wrong, a poor choice of methods to garner her interest, but nothing else gives me the same thrill. I think the same goes for her. She is not used to being the hunted. The prey. It is exciting. The rush of knowing there's nowhere to hide, the perverse thrill of the chase, the heady moment of the catch.
And I will catch her.
She wants me to.
Title: Chase
Series: Unhealthy Obsessions
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me for it
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Bloody Roar characters or the song "Wicked Ways" by Garbage, much as I wish I did. I'm not making any money, and there's really no point in suing.
'Ship: Shenlong/Shina
Classification: general, creepy stalking
Summary: Shenlong watches Shina.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: BR1 & 2
Feedback: to vampire_slayer_d@2die4.com
*I tried hard to mend my wicked ways
Acted like a lunatic for years
Lord knows I try to be good
I'd keep my promises if only I could*
I watch her leave the house for the second time in twenty-four hours. She looks around, making a quick scan of the area. Sees nothing unusual. She will continue to see nothing until I choose to reveal myself. But not yet. She's gone. Now comes the thinking between the watching, the waiting, the needing to glimpse her again.
I'm not entirely sure why I watch her, why it is she who has become the focus of my obsession. Perhaps her beauty, her strength. Such strength! She has seen much for someone so young and has survived to tell about it.
I speak of youth when I am less than three years old myself. Ironic. But there's no point in dwelling on such things. I remember more past than I can honestly claim. Some of it is too much a part of me to release. Most of it isn't... pretty. My memories are painted with the blood of those I've killed and ordered so, streaked with their screams.
More than strength makes her fascinating. Strength alone is useless at best. The things she has experienced, the scars left by those things, have allowed her to see more than most people imagine. Knowledge is a beautiful thing. She knows the place where pain, pleasure, cruelty, and kindness melt together in a vibrant wash of ecstasy. She understands. So few people understand; fewer still appreciate the understanding.
It's been more than a week since the phone call. I might believe she had left off thinking of me, save for the nervous glances when she leaves the house, the way I see her peering out the window from time to time, beautiful blue eyes searching. She's still thinking, wondering. Wanting.
I know this is wrong, a poor choice of methods to garner her interest, but nothing else gives me the same thrill. I think the same goes for her. She is not used to being the hunted. The prey. It is exciting. The rush of knowing there's nowhere to hide, the perverse thrill of the chase, the heady moment of the catch.
And I will catch her.
She wants me to.