Slayers Resurrection
A.N.: Last chapter was so much fun!! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Okay, please tell other people about this fic! I want it to spread around . . its my baby! Thanks a lot if you would! Okay, bye!!
Chapter Four
Valerie Michael Garth
The lights were sparkling, as lights tend to do, especially in winter, and most especially when the person looking at the lights is standing outside the building in which the lights are doing their sparkling. Val looked in on them, watching their peculiar patterns in the glass window, like so many stars glimmering in the sky. He saw his breath fog the window and the light catch in it. Shivering, he turned away from the window, to face the younger man standing next to him. "You're her brother?"
The child, Phib, Val thought his name was, nodded. Then, as if he wanted to make the clarification complete, said "Yes."
Val frowned. "The brother that she hates?"
Phib twisted his innocent, young face into a look of pain. His eyes, large and blue, so unlike his sisters, yet still as soulful and gorgeous in their own way, filled with remorse. "Does she really hate me?", he whispered, and though it was a question, there was no hope of positive outcome in his voice.
Val was surprised at the sudden change in the boy. Mere seconds before, he had been talking about his sister as if they hated each other. He had never shown any particular regret for anything that had happened between them. But now . . could it be possible? Could Phib Kyria really love his sister? Could this boy, who had tackled her in the middle of her recital, really love her? The way Val loved her?
Turning to face the window, again, his face hidden from Val, Phib continued, his voice full of suppressed emotion. Val even thought, from his tone, that he might be crying. "We" and his voice broke "we have never gotten on very well-she-I-We are both so different. She with her dance and I with my, well, she must have mentioned it . ."
She had. Phib's habits had been very unnatural since his first years in middle school, and she had shown concern about them even then. Now, in eight grade, he was unnatural. Brilliant and young, he thrived on cruelty. His old stuffed animals were now mutilated, their eyes poked out, their arms and legs detached. His room was hung with pictures of dark bands playing gothic music against darker backgrounds. He kept a vase full of dead roses by his bed. His arms and ankles were covered with scars, all, she suspected, were self-inflicted. And yet he still possessed a certain innocence, a certain charm that drew people to him like a light drew moths.
Phib was still speaking, and with a jolt Val brought himself back to the young boy's words. "I've always wanted to know her better . . always . . she's so good . . so much better than me."
He was looking down now, defeated, small. Val could barely resist the urge to throw his arms around the child, to comfort him, to protect him. Locking his arms behind his back, Val said nothing. There was nothing to say.
"And as long as you promise not to hurt her, I'll arrange a meeting. I'll get her into one of your classes. Whatever. As long as you think that you can keep up your end of the deal, it should work fine."
"I won't hurt her". No. He could never hurt her.
"Good. You owe me one." There was a finality in the boy's voice. Val turned to leave, expecting to spend the next few hours in her company, a few, sparkling, happy hours. Too few.
And behind him, the boy smiled. Not the enthusiastic smile of a child he usually presented to the world, but a cool, calculating one. His target was being drawn in.
Melina Callie Rivers
"Allow me to let you in on my little secret-"
Mel looked up at Xellos in surprise. She had not expected this. And then he was beside her, pulling her to her feet, hodling her hand lightly all the way to the dance floor. Then he wrapped his arms, his long, masculine arms around her. Lina felt herself blush. He smiled, and she stared up into his eyes, caught and manipulated by their odd beauty.
"My secret" he started to say, then stopped, as they were both pulled into the slow rhythm of the dance. Then, lowering his mouth till it was beside her ear, he murmured "My secret is simple. You are not who you think you are. Or, at least, not really."
Eric Zelgadis Grey
Zel stared. From where he was standing, in the doorway to the mens bathroom, he could see his best friend in the entire world dancing with that-that monster! He quickly started to walk towards them, when he was intercepted by Sabrina Kyria's younger brother Phib.
"Hello, Zel. Just back from checking for stones, I see. Worried, are you?"
Zel gaped at the young boy. How could he know? "What-How-Who," he stuttered, words jumbling in his mouth as he tried to say them.
"I didn't know. It was just a wild guess! So I was right, hmm? Well, whadya know? Call it fate!" The boy smiled, and spun and walked away. Giving Zel a clear view of the dance floor.
He saw Xellos bend down and murmur something in Mel's ear. He saw Mel's jaw slacken, saw her grow pale, then reddened, with anger. She pushed away from Xellos, and Zel was standing close enough to hear his last words to her: "Lina! You can't hide from what you are!"
She shook her head slowly, looking at him in horror, as if he were crazy. "You LIAR! You big, fat LIAR!!"
The scene was beginning to attract attention. Zel saw several people turn towards the pair, as they conversation grew in volume. Xellos was speaking again. His eyes had lost their sincerity; in fact, they had lost all expression at all, as he had retreated into his confusing, happy, innocent appearance. "Just look at him, Miss Lina. You will know."
Mel, and why was he calling her Lina anyway?, spun to face him. Her face went loose with repulsion, as if she saw something in him she would rather not see. She turned again, and this time not to Xellos, and raised her voice again.
Sabrina Grace Kyria
Sabrina looked around. One moment, she had been having a peaceful conversation with Valerie Garth about the advantages and disadvantages of toe dancing, trying to steer the conversation back to Fiona, trying to arrange a meeting between the Fi and her crush, and then, two figures had started shouting at each other in the middle of the dance floor. One she knew, Mel Rivers. The Rivers were a close friends of her family, and Mel had come to her ballet recital, and in turn to this reception for the recital, just because of that friendship. The other, an odd looking kid with purple hair and eyes, was a complete stranger.
The entire room fell silent, as they all noticed the fight. The last words the young man said echoed in the room. "Just look at him, Miss Lina. You will know."
Sabrina stared at her. She watched as Mel turned around, and faced her best friend, Zel Grey, who had come with the Rivers family. She couldn't see her face, but she saw Zel's go pale, saw his hands fly to his forehead, right above his left eyebrow. Then Mel turned around.
"You BASTARD!!" she screamed, running towards Xellos, but side stepping him at the last moment, and continuing. Toward, Sabrina thought with a mixture of surprise and fear, me and Val. "You ruined my Life you BASTARD!!!" Mel's shout echoed in the room as she tackled Val, slamming him to the ground. Sabrina stared in shock as Mel pumled him, throwing punches at every part of him she could reach, until her fingers had his blood on them. Then the guy she had been yelling at appeared behind her, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled up.
"Now, Miss Lina, we can't be having that, can we?"
Mel shrugged him off, pushed away from him, and ran. Ran from the room, from the people, from everything. She was out the door before anyone could say anything. A stunned silence filled the room. The odd purple-head was the first to speak. "Aaah, well" he sighed, then turned and followed Mel out the door. The silence became more stunned than before, if such a thing was possible. Sabrina became aware of her mouth hanging open and closed it quickly. The soft click seemed to resonate through the room. She looked around embarrassedly, but saw that no one was looking at her. As she was looking at Mr. Rivers, who was red in the face and kept pantomiming words silently, but seemed unable to make anything come out.
"Whoa." Sabrina spun. It was Val, still lying on the floor, wiping at his jaw. "Whoa," he said again, and this time the word seemed to shake everyone out of their daze. A general chaos ensued, what with Sabrina's parents trying desperately to calm the Rivers's adults down while keeping an eye on Phib, Sabrina trying to clean up Val, Ami trying to cheer everyone up, while recruiting them to her church, and other people packing up food, putting tables away, and leaving.
It was half an hour after the strange departures that Sabrina thought to look for Zel. She looked and looked, and Val looked with her, but he was no where to be found.
Melina Callie Rivers
Mel baled down the dark street, oblivious to everyone and everything. She blanked her mind, tried not to think about anything, but especially about what Xellos had whispered in her ear. IT. IT wasn't true. Couldn't be true. IT didn't make sense. She realized she was crying, and that didn't make sense either. Everything suddenly seemed to be too much. Her mind couldn't hold it all, couldn't comprehend it all. She couldn't understand what Xellos had told her, and yet it's presence in her mind was filling her with new emotions, new pictures, a new lifetime, or was it an old lifetime? She couldn't tell it all blended together. She felt as if someone had taken every thought she had ever thought, and poured it all into a mixing bowl and turned the mixer on as high as it would go.
Mixer. Her mother had a mixer with seven power levels.
Seven. On her seventh birthday she had gotten eighteen blue bracelets. Blue. The sky was blue. Except now it was black. And dotted with lights.
The lights were called stars.
Stars. She had flown once, in the stars, at night, flown through the air. Like a bird.
Bird. When she had been little, she would tell her mother that the birds were dancing across the sky.
Dancing. Recital. She had been to a dancing recital a long time ago. Some one had told her something, a long time ago.
Or had that been today?
"I'm going crazy," Mel whispered to herself, clenching her teeth. "I'm going crazy!"
Her world rapidly shrunk, shrunk down until all she could see was the sky above her, all she could hear were her footsteps, her ragged breathing, all she could smell was her sweat, all she could feel was the uncomfortable dress she was running in, all she could taste was the sourness in her mouth. Bile. She was going to throw up.
She stopped running.
Gordon Ken
Gordon Ken blinked at the street ahead of him. It was dark, he'd spent the night in his shop, working late, but he could have sworn he had seen something. A flickering ghost. He felt his tired muscles tense. All his alarm bells were going off, ringing madly in his mind. He wasn't normally one to jump at shadows, or to think people were following him, but something about the alley to his right made him feel on edge. But as he stood, his weight on the balls of his feet, his hands spread, ready to make a dash, and nothing happened, he relaxed. Even after he was standing on his full feet, and his hands had slipped from their fight position, he waited at the alley for five minutes. And nothing happened. A faint feeling of discomfort lingering, he continued to walk toward his house.
He smiled as he went over his day in his head. He loved his work. It made making people happy so easy. So simple. And he loved it.
Cooking had always been his passion, ever since he had been very small, when he had been adopted by an old man who wanted to get in touch with the child within him again. The man was rich, richer than anyone Gordon, as old Mr. Ken named him, had ever known, and he employed a household full of servants. And one very old chef. "Gurgie", as everyone called him then, because of his love of food, the old cook had often said "never cook with your hands. Never cook with your book. The books mean nothing. Cook only with your soul."
And he had.
After graduating from a local community college, he had borrowed some money from his 'father' and started his own bakery. He baked sweets and bread, made candies and cookies, and the most wonderful cakes in the district. Today, in fact, he had had to deliver a large order of cakes, breads, and cookies for a ballet recital that was being held in the honor of some Luma Rivers. He had also sold three dozen cookies to this cute little kid at half price, and had made three birthday cakes. He didn't remember, as he handed his customers their bags, the hours of work he had spent making these thing, only the warm smiles of the faces of the children as they left his shop.
A similar smile graced his face, and he started to whistle.
Without warning, a scream split the late November air. It was high pitched and frantic, the kind of scream an animal makes in a last ditch attempt to save its life, even when it knows it's going to die.
Before he realized what he was doing, Gordon had spun around and was running full out toward the alley that he had just passed. It had seemed so close, but was so far, it was taking him so long to get there, and he needed to get there fast. He was so tired from a day of standing, but he pushed himself on, adrenaline pumping through his body, hard and fast.
He rounded the corner and almost fell of his balance. A girl was standing on the far wall, backed up against it. Her slight body was alive with shakes, and even from this distance he could see her eyes darting back and forth, before they saw him. His eyes met hers, and Gordon was struck with a bizarre sort of fear, though he couldn't think why. Two large, dark figures were standing in front of her, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized, with shock and disgust, they were men.
"Come here, little girl", one was saying, his voice so deep in his throat that it almost sounded like a growl. "We won't hurt you.''
"Yeah", the other one chimed in. "We only want to play."
Both chuckled.
Gordon leaped forward, his feet pounding the pavement. Both of the figures turned to look at him, and he realized that one, the one who had spoken first, was holding a gun. Time slowed. He became aware of the leaves twitching in the wind. He was aware of the girl, staring at him like he was mad. He heard the gun click. With a strange detachment, he noted that he wouldn't be able to bake the batch of chocolate chip cookies he had planned to sell at half price tomorrow. Another part of his mind realized that his body was still moving, still hurtling toward the man, and in his surprise he hadn't fired.
Then the moment was over, and they collided.
Melina Callie Rivers
Mel stared at the scene in front of her. A moment before, the tall blond had started a headlong rush down the alley toward the men that had been threatening her. She shuddered as she remembered them helping her up from the side of the road, and with disgust at herself as she remembered how glad she had been to see them, and then their lewd jokes, the way their hands had started to paw at her, the way they'd chased her when she'd ran. Ran here. And then they had threatened her, and one had pulled out a gun. She had screamed when put a bullet in it and aimed it at her head. And then the giant had appeared. Their eyes had met, and something about him had been familiar. But it was all over too soon for her to be sure. And then he had come barreling down the alley, and the one with the gun had cocked it.
She stared as the younger, fitter man hit the two dark strangers with an audible bang. She would have jumped back, but there was nowhere to jump to, so she stood, transfixed. They were really going at it. The man with the gun had been hit full on, and he'd dropped it. The other had come to slug the tall guy, but it didn't work, because the giant turned around and hit him in the jaw. The now unarmed assaulter grabbed the rescuer by his hair, and the other punched him in the stomach. The guy struggled, then suddenly sat down, pulling the one holding him off balance, and because he lost his footing, he loosened his grip, and the giant was able to wrench free. As he stood up, his hand came in contact with a long rod of metal. It was then that Mel noticed the gun.
Gordon Ken
Gordon felt the rod in his hand, and with it felt a focus he'd never had before. The other man was approaching him from behind, he didn't know how he knew, but he did, and spun and brought the make-shift sword into the guys stomach. The color drained form his face. He gasped for air. Driven by something he'd never felt before anywhere, Gab pulled the rod up and hit the guy on the back of the head with it. The man passed out.
He heard a soft footstep that alerted him to the other's presence, but too late. A punch hit him square in the back, and he fell forward, dropping his poll. He turned around on the ground, the guy leered over him, and Gab saw something strangely, scarily familiar in his eyes. A lust for pain.
The man reached for the rod and lifted it high, high into the air, and posed, about to slam it down on Gabs head with all his might, and Gabriel knew, more certainly than he had ever known anything ever before in his life, that he was going to die.
"Put the stick down."
The poll clattered to the pavement. Mel stared, pressing the handgun into the man's back, as his hands came up over his head. "Now" she said, her voice sounding clear and true, not at all the way she felt, "walk away slowly. When you get to the head of the alley, turn right. Keep walking until you get into town. Then you can turn around and go home. If you don't, I'll blow your brains into a million pieces." The man started walking, one foot then the other, his steps echoing hollowly in the empty alley. "That's it, nice and easy." They reached the head of the alley. Mel turned him to the right. "Keep walking."
The guy turned back to look at them once, the pair, one petite redhead pointing a gun at his head and the tall man behind her, his short, brown hair ruffled from the fight, catching the light of a street lamp, who was holding the poll at ready. Then Mel watched as he walked away.
A.N.: YAY!! More of these! These are fun!! Okay, sorry for the long chapter and the aweful fight scene, *Winces*, if you could call it that. Any way, review, respond, and remember, peace is love. Over and out.
~Divine Firefly
A.N.: Last chapter was so much fun!! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Okay, please tell other people about this fic! I want it to spread around . . its my baby! Thanks a lot if you would! Okay, bye!!
Chapter Four
Valerie Michael Garth
The lights were sparkling, as lights tend to do, especially in winter, and most especially when the person looking at the lights is standing outside the building in which the lights are doing their sparkling. Val looked in on them, watching their peculiar patterns in the glass window, like so many stars glimmering in the sky. He saw his breath fog the window and the light catch in it. Shivering, he turned away from the window, to face the younger man standing next to him. "You're her brother?"
The child, Phib, Val thought his name was, nodded. Then, as if he wanted to make the clarification complete, said "Yes."
Val frowned. "The brother that she hates?"
Phib twisted his innocent, young face into a look of pain. His eyes, large and blue, so unlike his sisters, yet still as soulful and gorgeous in their own way, filled with remorse. "Does she really hate me?", he whispered, and though it was a question, there was no hope of positive outcome in his voice.
Val was surprised at the sudden change in the boy. Mere seconds before, he had been talking about his sister as if they hated each other. He had never shown any particular regret for anything that had happened between them. But now . . could it be possible? Could Phib Kyria really love his sister? Could this boy, who had tackled her in the middle of her recital, really love her? The way Val loved her?
Turning to face the window, again, his face hidden from Val, Phib continued, his voice full of suppressed emotion. Val even thought, from his tone, that he might be crying. "We" and his voice broke "we have never gotten on very well-she-I-We are both so different. She with her dance and I with my, well, she must have mentioned it . ."
She had. Phib's habits had been very unnatural since his first years in middle school, and she had shown concern about them even then. Now, in eight grade, he was unnatural. Brilliant and young, he thrived on cruelty. His old stuffed animals were now mutilated, their eyes poked out, their arms and legs detached. His room was hung with pictures of dark bands playing gothic music against darker backgrounds. He kept a vase full of dead roses by his bed. His arms and ankles were covered with scars, all, she suspected, were self-inflicted. And yet he still possessed a certain innocence, a certain charm that drew people to him like a light drew moths.
Phib was still speaking, and with a jolt Val brought himself back to the young boy's words. "I've always wanted to know her better . . always . . she's so good . . so much better than me."
He was looking down now, defeated, small. Val could barely resist the urge to throw his arms around the child, to comfort him, to protect him. Locking his arms behind his back, Val said nothing. There was nothing to say.
"And as long as you promise not to hurt her, I'll arrange a meeting. I'll get her into one of your classes. Whatever. As long as you think that you can keep up your end of the deal, it should work fine."
"I won't hurt her". No. He could never hurt her.
"Good. You owe me one." There was a finality in the boy's voice. Val turned to leave, expecting to spend the next few hours in her company, a few, sparkling, happy hours. Too few.
And behind him, the boy smiled. Not the enthusiastic smile of a child he usually presented to the world, but a cool, calculating one. His target was being drawn in.
Melina Callie Rivers
"Allow me to let you in on my little secret-"
Mel looked up at Xellos in surprise. She had not expected this. And then he was beside her, pulling her to her feet, hodling her hand lightly all the way to the dance floor. Then he wrapped his arms, his long, masculine arms around her. Lina felt herself blush. He smiled, and she stared up into his eyes, caught and manipulated by their odd beauty.
"My secret" he started to say, then stopped, as they were both pulled into the slow rhythm of the dance. Then, lowering his mouth till it was beside her ear, he murmured "My secret is simple. You are not who you think you are. Or, at least, not really."
Eric Zelgadis Grey
Zel stared. From where he was standing, in the doorway to the mens bathroom, he could see his best friend in the entire world dancing with that-that monster! He quickly started to walk towards them, when he was intercepted by Sabrina Kyria's younger brother Phib.
"Hello, Zel. Just back from checking for stones, I see. Worried, are you?"
Zel gaped at the young boy. How could he know? "What-How-Who," he stuttered, words jumbling in his mouth as he tried to say them.
"I didn't know. It was just a wild guess! So I was right, hmm? Well, whadya know? Call it fate!" The boy smiled, and spun and walked away. Giving Zel a clear view of the dance floor.
He saw Xellos bend down and murmur something in Mel's ear. He saw Mel's jaw slacken, saw her grow pale, then reddened, with anger. She pushed away from Xellos, and Zel was standing close enough to hear his last words to her: "Lina! You can't hide from what you are!"
She shook her head slowly, looking at him in horror, as if he were crazy. "You LIAR! You big, fat LIAR!!"
The scene was beginning to attract attention. Zel saw several people turn towards the pair, as they conversation grew in volume. Xellos was speaking again. His eyes had lost their sincerity; in fact, they had lost all expression at all, as he had retreated into his confusing, happy, innocent appearance. "Just look at him, Miss Lina. You will know."
Mel, and why was he calling her Lina anyway?, spun to face him. Her face went loose with repulsion, as if she saw something in him she would rather not see. She turned again, and this time not to Xellos, and raised her voice again.
Sabrina Grace Kyria
Sabrina looked around. One moment, she had been having a peaceful conversation with Valerie Garth about the advantages and disadvantages of toe dancing, trying to steer the conversation back to Fiona, trying to arrange a meeting between the Fi and her crush, and then, two figures had started shouting at each other in the middle of the dance floor. One she knew, Mel Rivers. The Rivers were a close friends of her family, and Mel had come to her ballet recital, and in turn to this reception for the recital, just because of that friendship. The other, an odd looking kid with purple hair and eyes, was a complete stranger.
The entire room fell silent, as they all noticed the fight. The last words the young man said echoed in the room. "Just look at him, Miss Lina. You will know."
Sabrina stared at her. She watched as Mel turned around, and faced her best friend, Zel Grey, who had come with the Rivers family. She couldn't see her face, but she saw Zel's go pale, saw his hands fly to his forehead, right above his left eyebrow. Then Mel turned around.
"You BASTARD!!" she screamed, running towards Xellos, but side stepping him at the last moment, and continuing. Toward, Sabrina thought with a mixture of surprise and fear, me and Val. "You ruined my Life you BASTARD!!!" Mel's shout echoed in the room as she tackled Val, slamming him to the ground. Sabrina stared in shock as Mel pumled him, throwing punches at every part of him she could reach, until her fingers had his blood on them. Then the guy she had been yelling at appeared behind her, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled up.
"Now, Miss Lina, we can't be having that, can we?"
Mel shrugged him off, pushed away from him, and ran. Ran from the room, from the people, from everything. She was out the door before anyone could say anything. A stunned silence filled the room. The odd purple-head was the first to speak. "Aaah, well" he sighed, then turned and followed Mel out the door. The silence became more stunned than before, if such a thing was possible. Sabrina became aware of her mouth hanging open and closed it quickly. The soft click seemed to resonate through the room. She looked around embarrassedly, but saw that no one was looking at her. As she was looking at Mr. Rivers, who was red in the face and kept pantomiming words silently, but seemed unable to make anything come out.
"Whoa." Sabrina spun. It was Val, still lying on the floor, wiping at his jaw. "Whoa," he said again, and this time the word seemed to shake everyone out of their daze. A general chaos ensued, what with Sabrina's parents trying desperately to calm the Rivers's adults down while keeping an eye on Phib, Sabrina trying to clean up Val, Ami trying to cheer everyone up, while recruiting them to her church, and other people packing up food, putting tables away, and leaving.
It was half an hour after the strange departures that Sabrina thought to look for Zel. She looked and looked, and Val looked with her, but he was no where to be found.
Melina Callie Rivers
Mel baled down the dark street, oblivious to everyone and everything. She blanked her mind, tried not to think about anything, but especially about what Xellos had whispered in her ear. IT. IT wasn't true. Couldn't be true. IT didn't make sense. She realized she was crying, and that didn't make sense either. Everything suddenly seemed to be too much. Her mind couldn't hold it all, couldn't comprehend it all. She couldn't understand what Xellos had told her, and yet it's presence in her mind was filling her with new emotions, new pictures, a new lifetime, or was it an old lifetime? She couldn't tell it all blended together. She felt as if someone had taken every thought she had ever thought, and poured it all into a mixing bowl and turned the mixer on as high as it would go.
Mixer. Her mother had a mixer with seven power levels.
Seven. On her seventh birthday she had gotten eighteen blue bracelets. Blue. The sky was blue. Except now it was black. And dotted with lights.
The lights were called stars.
Stars. She had flown once, in the stars, at night, flown through the air. Like a bird.
Bird. When she had been little, she would tell her mother that the birds were dancing across the sky.
Dancing. Recital. She had been to a dancing recital a long time ago. Some one had told her something, a long time ago.
Or had that been today?
"I'm going crazy," Mel whispered to herself, clenching her teeth. "I'm going crazy!"
Her world rapidly shrunk, shrunk down until all she could see was the sky above her, all she could hear were her footsteps, her ragged breathing, all she could smell was her sweat, all she could feel was the uncomfortable dress she was running in, all she could taste was the sourness in her mouth. Bile. She was going to throw up.
She stopped running.
Gordon Ken
Gordon Ken blinked at the street ahead of him. It was dark, he'd spent the night in his shop, working late, but he could have sworn he had seen something. A flickering ghost. He felt his tired muscles tense. All his alarm bells were going off, ringing madly in his mind. He wasn't normally one to jump at shadows, or to think people were following him, but something about the alley to his right made him feel on edge. But as he stood, his weight on the balls of his feet, his hands spread, ready to make a dash, and nothing happened, he relaxed. Even after he was standing on his full feet, and his hands had slipped from their fight position, he waited at the alley for five minutes. And nothing happened. A faint feeling of discomfort lingering, he continued to walk toward his house.
He smiled as he went over his day in his head. He loved his work. It made making people happy so easy. So simple. And he loved it.
Cooking had always been his passion, ever since he had been very small, when he had been adopted by an old man who wanted to get in touch with the child within him again. The man was rich, richer than anyone Gordon, as old Mr. Ken named him, had ever known, and he employed a household full of servants. And one very old chef. "Gurgie", as everyone called him then, because of his love of food, the old cook had often said "never cook with your hands. Never cook with your book. The books mean nothing. Cook only with your soul."
And he had.
After graduating from a local community college, he had borrowed some money from his 'father' and started his own bakery. He baked sweets and bread, made candies and cookies, and the most wonderful cakes in the district. Today, in fact, he had had to deliver a large order of cakes, breads, and cookies for a ballet recital that was being held in the honor of some Luma Rivers. He had also sold three dozen cookies to this cute little kid at half price, and had made three birthday cakes. He didn't remember, as he handed his customers their bags, the hours of work he had spent making these thing, only the warm smiles of the faces of the children as they left his shop.
A similar smile graced his face, and he started to whistle.
Without warning, a scream split the late November air. It was high pitched and frantic, the kind of scream an animal makes in a last ditch attempt to save its life, even when it knows it's going to die.
Before he realized what he was doing, Gordon had spun around and was running full out toward the alley that he had just passed. It had seemed so close, but was so far, it was taking him so long to get there, and he needed to get there fast. He was so tired from a day of standing, but he pushed himself on, adrenaline pumping through his body, hard and fast.
He rounded the corner and almost fell of his balance. A girl was standing on the far wall, backed up against it. Her slight body was alive with shakes, and even from this distance he could see her eyes darting back and forth, before they saw him. His eyes met hers, and Gordon was struck with a bizarre sort of fear, though he couldn't think why. Two large, dark figures were standing in front of her, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized, with shock and disgust, they were men.
"Come here, little girl", one was saying, his voice so deep in his throat that it almost sounded like a growl. "We won't hurt you.''
"Yeah", the other one chimed in. "We only want to play."
Both chuckled.
Gordon leaped forward, his feet pounding the pavement. Both of the figures turned to look at him, and he realized that one, the one who had spoken first, was holding a gun. Time slowed. He became aware of the leaves twitching in the wind. He was aware of the girl, staring at him like he was mad. He heard the gun click. With a strange detachment, he noted that he wouldn't be able to bake the batch of chocolate chip cookies he had planned to sell at half price tomorrow. Another part of his mind realized that his body was still moving, still hurtling toward the man, and in his surprise he hadn't fired.
Then the moment was over, and they collided.
Melina Callie Rivers
Mel stared at the scene in front of her. A moment before, the tall blond had started a headlong rush down the alley toward the men that had been threatening her. She shuddered as she remembered them helping her up from the side of the road, and with disgust at herself as she remembered how glad she had been to see them, and then their lewd jokes, the way their hands had started to paw at her, the way they'd chased her when she'd ran. Ran here. And then they had threatened her, and one had pulled out a gun. She had screamed when put a bullet in it and aimed it at her head. And then the giant had appeared. Their eyes had met, and something about him had been familiar. But it was all over too soon for her to be sure. And then he had come barreling down the alley, and the one with the gun had cocked it.
She stared as the younger, fitter man hit the two dark strangers with an audible bang. She would have jumped back, but there was nowhere to jump to, so she stood, transfixed. They were really going at it. The man with the gun had been hit full on, and he'd dropped it. The other had come to slug the tall guy, but it didn't work, because the giant turned around and hit him in the jaw. The now unarmed assaulter grabbed the rescuer by his hair, and the other punched him in the stomach. The guy struggled, then suddenly sat down, pulling the one holding him off balance, and because he lost his footing, he loosened his grip, and the giant was able to wrench free. As he stood up, his hand came in contact with a long rod of metal. It was then that Mel noticed the gun.
Gordon Ken
Gordon felt the rod in his hand, and with it felt a focus he'd never had before. The other man was approaching him from behind, he didn't know how he knew, but he did, and spun and brought the make-shift sword into the guys stomach. The color drained form his face. He gasped for air. Driven by something he'd never felt before anywhere, Gab pulled the rod up and hit the guy on the back of the head with it. The man passed out.
He heard a soft footstep that alerted him to the other's presence, but too late. A punch hit him square in the back, and he fell forward, dropping his poll. He turned around on the ground, the guy leered over him, and Gab saw something strangely, scarily familiar in his eyes. A lust for pain.
The man reached for the rod and lifted it high, high into the air, and posed, about to slam it down on Gabs head with all his might, and Gabriel knew, more certainly than he had ever known anything ever before in his life, that he was going to die.
"Put the stick down."
The poll clattered to the pavement. Mel stared, pressing the handgun into the man's back, as his hands came up over his head. "Now" she said, her voice sounding clear and true, not at all the way she felt, "walk away slowly. When you get to the head of the alley, turn right. Keep walking until you get into town. Then you can turn around and go home. If you don't, I'll blow your brains into a million pieces." The man started walking, one foot then the other, his steps echoing hollowly in the empty alley. "That's it, nice and easy." They reached the head of the alley. Mel turned him to the right. "Keep walking."
The guy turned back to look at them once, the pair, one petite redhead pointing a gun at his head and the tall man behind her, his short, brown hair ruffled from the fight, catching the light of a street lamp, who was holding the poll at ready. Then Mel watched as he walked away.
A.N.: YAY!! More of these! These are fun!! Okay, sorry for the long chapter and the aweful fight scene, *Winces*, if you could call it that. Any way, review, respond, and remember, peace is love. Over and out.
~Divine Firefly