!So im a little excited . . . I got two reviews, that's so great for me!
Hahaha, it is really, I NEVER get reviews (from more than one person, lol
Fleur), well a little for La Fille and Love, Sex, and Tournament Style
Revenge, but the sequels to La Fille never get reviews . . . so I figure
that these proally wouldn't either. BUT ALAS! Orlando has blessed me, and
now I have a new fan . . .well an old fan who never reviewed ehh emm! So
everyone, lets give a big whoop for the fabulous xxFleurdelysxx and
ChristyS!
ChristyS- well it's a start! But im still waiting for my reviews fer La Fille, L'homme et Le Garcon!!!! Don't worry! Its Romy! I don't really like Bobby much . . .
XxFleurdelysxx- can u believe this!? I actually have TWO REVIEWERS this is AMAZING! Hahaha! And yes, I cant stress this enough, ROMY ROMY ROMY ROMY ROMY. You think I would be so cruel to Remy, by giving his true love to Bobby!? HA!
So this scene makes me think of a great scene in Seven (Morgan Freeman, Brad Pitt, and Kevin Spacey.) when they are all driving out to the desert . . . if you haven't seen it, I recommend it, but it's not for the squeamish. Mary is Brad Pitt, Luke is Morgan Freeman and Creed is Kevin Spacey.
------------------------------------
Torn
Chapter 2.
Anonymous melody
------------------------------------
"How much longer?"
"Look Luke! He can talk!" Mary snarled from her position in the front seat, ripping off her hat and letting her curly brown hair flow free. Bishop frowned, his thick black eyebrows knitting in disdain, and checked his watch.
"Another hour, or two." They had already been driving for one hour, and Creed hadn't said two words, except some light laughter and quiet muttering. Mary had asked him a while back whether he was sorry for what he had done, but the man-if you could call him a man-simply smiled at her.
"Why so long? This is just the state prison, ain't it?"
"Nope, we're goin' all the way to the big house. This man has been sentenced to the death penalty."
"Hear that sugah? Ah sure hope ya'h ain't afraid ah' needles." Luke shook his head. "Mary don't taunt him, he escaped prison last time."
That settled her down a bit, but Mary still held no respect or pity for the man in the backseat.
* sniff sniff * * sniff sniff *
Mary whipped her head around, and stared the frightening man straight in the eye. His brown (are they brown? I don't know!) eyes flickering with amusement. Victor was sniffing her hair. "Get off!" She yelled, snatching it away from his claws, Creed snarled at her, baring his teeth as if they were fangs. Twisting her mane back into a bun, Mary put her hat back on.
"Don't let him get to ye'h Drake."
"Ah'm not!" At that moment, her cell phone began to ring, "Ha'llo?"
'Hey its me.' her husband's voice was like music to her ears.
"Hey baby, what's the matter?"
'I think we outghta' cancel on the Summers' tonight.'
"Why?"
'Nat's got a cold.'
"Oh!"
'Calm down, she'll be fine. I took her to the doctors, and he said it was just a fever, proally from the snow.'
"Been makin' to many snowmen, sugah'"
'I never learn, listen she wants to talk to you so I'm gonna go. I love you baby, rough em' up for me a bit eh?'
"Ah'll rough you up when ah get home."
Bobby's soft laughter faded away as her daughter took the phone, and Mary could feel Luke's humorous glance. Her cheeks flushed as Natalie's voice became clear.
'Hi mama!'
"Hey baby, how are ya'h?"
'ah'b okay. But by bose is all stupped dup.'
"Hahaha, well just remember to drink lotsa' orange juice."
'I boo dat already bommy.'
"Alright, feel better, ah love you!!"
'ah bub boo too!'
-Click-
Mary sighed and smiled at the phone before tucking it into her jacket pocket. "Natalie's got the flu." Luke nodded his head and switched lanes, adjusting the heater dial.
"Natalie. One o' the girls I played with was named Natalie," Mary spun her head around and fixed an icy glare on creed, "Real pretty to. Soft black hair, dark brown eyes, they got real wide when I stuck my-"
"That's enough Creed! Just sit there and stay quiet!" The blonde man in the backseat only flinched slightly, before fixing his gaze back to Mary.
"As I was saying, officer. She was very frightened of me; I just had to make her stop crying. She kept doing that, crying. It's most annoying when you are trying to work. So I stuffed my dick in her mouth, you know, just to make her quiet. She had small lips, but being at that tender age where you start experimenting with makeup; she had slathered them in fire engine red. They looked quite-delicious"
"Shut up." Mary sneered at him, "Ya'h think its okay that you raped some innocent girl? Killed her! She was only 16!"
"Ripe, and t-"
"Ah dare you ta'finish that sentence," Mary had pulled out her gun, and now had it pointing at his skull. She smiled, and cocked it to the side, taking pleasure out of the way he would steal nervous glances at the shiny weapon, "Ah dare ya'h."
"Drake, put the gun down! Jesus, yer' supposed t'be a professional, here! Enough!" Mary retracted her gun, and Victor averted his eyes, settling them outside of the window. Bishop sighed, and ran his free hand over his face, before reaching it to turn the radio.\
"-and yes folks, we are in force a doozy of a blizzard. We expect at least 26 inches of new snow, so you better get inside. This light precipitation should get REAL heavy in the hour."
-----------------------------------------
"Perk up, its feedin' time, boy." The prisoner kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, acknowledging the man's presence with a mere nod. His arms were folding behind his head, and his feet propped up on the iron bedpost. He was too tall for the bed, and when he slept his legs hung off the edge. The guard frowned, unlocking the cell door, and carrying in the tray in to the table.
"Where's Dukes? (Blob)"
"Parole" The prisoner replied, not meeting the man's eyes.
"You don' get parole on death row." He waited a while before answering; his voice had lost all emotion.
"Men came an' took 'em. Din' tell me nothin' jus' said dey were takin' him away." He knew where they were taking him, he had been there before himself. He knew what happened when men in white coats came after you, especially if you were like he and Fred Dukes.
"I don't think I was supposed to know that. Classified information."
"I guess not." The guard frowned and turned to leave, surprised that the prisoner actually told him.
"Hey homme?" He finally met the man's eyes, his face hidden in the darkness, "Ye'h owe me now."
"What do you want, LeBeau?"
"Out."
The guard laughed and tossed him a pair of cigarettes.
------------------------------------
"Here we are" Luke pulled to a stop outside of a tall stone building, the front of which looked at least 50 yrs old. Mary looked up at the prison, and attempted to stifle the shiver that was going down her spine. A man jogged out of the prison to meet them, two burly guards behind him. He had small blue eyes and a strong chin, his light blonde was cut short like her husbands. Mary gasped slightly, he was very handsome.
"Hi" He said in an unusually peppy voice, "I'm Alex, are you the pair from Pennsylvania?"
"Yes!" Mary spoke before her partner could, and flashed a flirty smile, "We transported Victor Creed."
"Alright then, follow me, these two men will take it from here." Alex turned and walked towards the building, and Luke and Mary followed, leaving the two prison guards to extract Victor from the vehicle.
------------------------------------
"We just need you to sign some paperwork in the far room, I am sure your stay here will be short." They were walking down a long dark hallway, the walls were painted a dull gray, and it looked as if the lights were flickering off and on.
"What a shame." Mary cooed, Alex shot her a confused look but kept his bright smile. Bishop rolled his eyes and stepped between the pair.
"Where can a man get some coffee round here?"
"Coffee sounds delicious." The blonde man smacked his forehead in a comical way.
"Sorry! I'm so rude. Here, follow me. You guys had a long trip." Luke and Mary exchanged glances, were all maximum-security prison guards this cheery? The three of them changed directions, and Alex led them down a brighter and shorter hallway, into a police lounge. A woman with long brown hair was standing by the coffee machine, staring solemnly into her mug. She looked up at Alex's sudden appearance, and Mary could see the lust in her eyes.
"Lorna, Officer Logan, this is Mary Drake and Lucas Bishop. They are on Prisoner transport. I figured we could get them some coffee before they hit the road." A man Mary hadn't noticed yet spoke up, he had wild black hair that covered most of his body. With sharp features and icy blue eyes he might have been handsome-in a rugged sort of way-if he didn't have a snarl permanently etched onto his face.
"They're not goin' anywhere, Summers, we got a blizzard comin'"
------------------------------------
An hour later, they were all still there, sitting in the main room. Mary found out that the brunette she saw was Lorna Dane, and the furry man (teeheeheee) was James Logan. She couldn't help but feel a little unimportant, her and Luke were nothing next to the maximum security prison guards, that and lonely. She wondered if Bobby and Natalie were okay, they probably were. Despite his oh-so-charming absentmindedness, and the tendency to act like a kid himself, Bobby was very responsible when it came to their daughter. "Ah'm gonna go take a walk."
"You sure, Mary?" Alex asked as he fixed himself another cup of steaming hot coffee,
"We were just about to sit down and play cards."
"No, ah'm not much of a card shark." Luke shot her a knowing smile before she turned to leave the room. Actually, she was an excellent card player, poker being her specialty, but right then she didn't feel like playing. Mary made her way down the crème colored hall, hugging her jacket close to her body, trying to stop the shivering. It must have been below 30 out there, Mary wondered if they gave the prisoner's blankets. The hall ended abruptly at a large red exit sign, to the left of a flight of stairs. She sighed; her breath came like smoke out of her nostrils.
"Au bout du monde où je suis né\
La vie est dure, l'amour cassé\
C'est pas la peine de faire comme si\
Tout est foutu, tout est pourri\
La vie est dure y'a pas d'espoir\
Quand on est mauvais comme moi"\
Mary walked down the hall, following the ominous voice. Someone was singing. She greeted the other prisoners with eyes glares, and they responded from their cells with less than polite gestures of their own, but her feet were still traveling forward. An unseen force was driving her down the hall.
"Passe la bouteille, sers moi un verre\
Plus que je bois, plus je vois clair\
Y'a pas d'avenir, y'en aura pas\
Y'a qu'l'amertume et le tracas\
Des fois je vois l'étoile rouge\
J'entends l'appel, je sens le loup\"
The voice was sad, and not exactly the best in the world. But to Mary, it was beautiful, raw, pure emotion. She continued down the prisoner hall, her face masked in shadow. The only sounds besides his singing-she was pretty sure it was a man-being her rapid breath, and the soft moans of the inmates.
"Prends ton couteau, allons dehors\
Viens donc danser avec 'Tit Jean\
A coup de poing et au fusil\
Je suis le plus fort dans le pays\
Ça m'a donné que de l'ennui\
Des points de suture et des ennemis\"
How she wished she had paid attention in French class. The voice was growing closer. Mary came up to the last cell, and stopped a few feet away. She could see him, sitting on top of his bed, smoke curling out of the cigarette he let dangle from his fingertips.
"Je m'appelle Jean, Jean Batailleur\"
"Is that yoah' name?" He stopped singing, but didn't look at her. It was a silly question, but it was the only thing she could think of to say at the time.
"Remy"
"Ah'm Mary." He laughed lightly, and dropping the cigarette got to his feet. Remy approached the bars that separated them, a smile on his handsome face.
"Well, chere, how can I help you?"
------------------------------------
~yay! Remy! Finally! -Foo
ChristyS- well it's a start! But im still waiting for my reviews fer La Fille, L'homme et Le Garcon!!!! Don't worry! Its Romy! I don't really like Bobby much . . .
XxFleurdelysxx- can u believe this!? I actually have TWO REVIEWERS this is AMAZING! Hahaha! And yes, I cant stress this enough, ROMY ROMY ROMY ROMY ROMY. You think I would be so cruel to Remy, by giving his true love to Bobby!? HA!
So this scene makes me think of a great scene in Seven (Morgan Freeman, Brad Pitt, and Kevin Spacey.) when they are all driving out to the desert . . . if you haven't seen it, I recommend it, but it's not for the squeamish. Mary is Brad Pitt, Luke is Morgan Freeman and Creed is Kevin Spacey.
------------------------------------
Torn
Chapter 2.
Anonymous melody
------------------------------------
"How much longer?"
"Look Luke! He can talk!" Mary snarled from her position in the front seat, ripping off her hat and letting her curly brown hair flow free. Bishop frowned, his thick black eyebrows knitting in disdain, and checked his watch.
"Another hour, or two." They had already been driving for one hour, and Creed hadn't said two words, except some light laughter and quiet muttering. Mary had asked him a while back whether he was sorry for what he had done, but the man-if you could call him a man-simply smiled at her.
"Why so long? This is just the state prison, ain't it?"
"Nope, we're goin' all the way to the big house. This man has been sentenced to the death penalty."
"Hear that sugah? Ah sure hope ya'h ain't afraid ah' needles." Luke shook his head. "Mary don't taunt him, he escaped prison last time."
That settled her down a bit, but Mary still held no respect or pity for the man in the backseat.
* sniff sniff * * sniff sniff *
Mary whipped her head around, and stared the frightening man straight in the eye. His brown (are they brown? I don't know!) eyes flickering with amusement. Victor was sniffing her hair. "Get off!" She yelled, snatching it away from his claws, Creed snarled at her, baring his teeth as if they were fangs. Twisting her mane back into a bun, Mary put her hat back on.
"Don't let him get to ye'h Drake."
"Ah'm not!" At that moment, her cell phone began to ring, "Ha'llo?"
'Hey its me.' her husband's voice was like music to her ears.
"Hey baby, what's the matter?"
'I think we outghta' cancel on the Summers' tonight.'
"Why?"
'Nat's got a cold.'
"Oh!"
'Calm down, she'll be fine. I took her to the doctors, and he said it was just a fever, proally from the snow.'
"Been makin' to many snowmen, sugah'"
'I never learn, listen she wants to talk to you so I'm gonna go. I love you baby, rough em' up for me a bit eh?'
"Ah'll rough you up when ah get home."
Bobby's soft laughter faded away as her daughter took the phone, and Mary could feel Luke's humorous glance. Her cheeks flushed as Natalie's voice became clear.
'Hi mama!'
"Hey baby, how are ya'h?"
'ah'b okay. But by bose is all stupped dup.'
"Hahaha, well just remember to drink lotsa' orange juice."
'I boo dat already bommy.'
"Alright, feel better, ah love you!!"
'ah bub boo too!'
-Click-
Mary sighed and smiled at the phone before tucking it into her jacket pocket. "Natalie's got the flu." Luke nodded his head and switched lanes, adjusting the heater dial.
"Natalie. One o' the girls I played with was named Natalie," Mary spun her head around and fixed an icy glare on creed, "Real pretty to. Soft black hair, dark brown eyes, they got real wide when I stuck my-"
"That's enough Creed! Just sit there and stay quiet!" The blonde man in the backseat only flinched slightly, before fixing his gaze back to Mary.
"As I was saying, officer. She was very frightened of me; I just had to make her stop crying. She kept doing that, crying. It's most annoying when you are trying to work. So I stuffed my dick in her mouth, you know, just to make her quiet. She had small lips, but being at that tender age where you start experimenting with makeup; she had slathered them in fire engine red. They looked quite-delicious"
"Shut up." Mary sneered at him, "Ya'h think its okay that you raped some innocent girl? Killed her! She was only 16!"
"Ripe, and t-"
"Ah dare you ta'finish that sentence," Mary had pulled out her gun, and now had it pointing at his skull. She smiled, and cocked it to the side, taking pleasure out of the way he would steal nervous glances at the shiny weapon, "Ah dare ya'h."
"Drake, put the gun down! Jesus, yer' supposed t'be a professional, here! Enough!" Mary retracted her gun, and Victor averted his eyes, settling them outside of the window. Bishop sighed, and ran his free hand over his face, before reaching it to turn the radio.\
"-and yes folks, we are in force a doozy of a blizzard. We expect at least 26 inches of new snow, so you better get inside. This light precipitation should get REAL heavy in the hour."
-----------------------------------------
"Perk up, its feedin' time, boy." The prisoner kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, acknowledging the man's presence with a mere nod. His arms were folding behind his head, and his feet propped up on the iron bedpost. He was too tall for the bed, and when he slept his legs hung off the edge. The guard frowned, unlocking the cell door, and carrying in the tray in to the table.
"Where's Dukes? (Blob)"
"Parole" The prisoner replied, not meeting the man's eyes.
"You don' get parole on death row." He waited a while before answering; his voice had lost all emotion.
"Men came an' took 'em. Din' tell me nothin' jus' said dey were takin' him away." He knew where they were taking him, he had been there before himself. He knew what happened when men in white coats came after you, especially if you were like he and Fred Dukes.
"I don't think I was supposed to know that. Classified information."
"I guess not." The guard frowned and turned to leave, surprised that the prisoner actually told him.
"Hey homme?" He finally met the man's eyes, his face hidden in the darkness, "Ye'h owe me now."
"What do you want, LeBeau?"
"Out."
The guard laughed and tossed him a pair of cigarettes.
------------------------------------
"Here we are" Luke pulled to a stop outside of a tall stone building, the front of which looked at least 50 yrs old. Mary looked up at the prison, and attempted to stifle the shiver that was going down her spine. A man jogged out of the prison to meet them, two burly guards behind him. He had small blue eyes and a strong chin, his light blonde was cut short like her husbands. Mary gasped slightly, he was very handsome.
"Hi" He said in an unusually peppy voice, "I'm Alex, are you the pair from Pennsylvania?"
"Yes!" Mary spoke before her partner could, and flashed a flirty smile, "We transported Victor Creed."
"Alright then, follow me, these two men will take it from here." Alex turned and walked towards the building, and Luke and Mary followed, leaving the two prison guards to extract Victor from the vehicle.
------------------------------------
"We just need you to sign some paperwork in the far room, I am sure your stay here will be short." They were walking down a long dark hallway, the walls were painted a dull gray, and it looked as if the lights were flickering off and on.
"What a shame." Mary cooed, Alex shot her a confused look but kept his bright smile. Bishop rolled his eyes and stepped between the pair.
"Where can a man get some coffee round here?"
"Coffee sounds delicious." The blonde man smacked his forehead in a comical way.
"Sorry! I'm so rude. Here, follow me. You guys had a long trip." Luke and Mary exchanged glances, were all maximum-security prison guards this cheery? The three of them changed directions, and Alex led them down a brighter and shorter hallway, into a police lounge. A woman with long brown hair was standing by the coffee machine, staring solemnly into her mug. She looked up at Alex's sudden appearance, and Mary could see the lust in her eyes.
"Lorna, Officer Logan, this is Mary Drake and Lucas Bishop. They are on Prisoner transport. I figured we could get them some coffee before they hit the road." A man Mary hadn't noticed yet spoke up, he had wild black hair that covered most of his body. With sharp features and icy blue eyes he might have been handsome-in a rugged sort of way-if he didn't have a snarl permanently etched onto his face.
"They're not goin' anywhere, Summers, we got a blizzard comin'"
------------------------------------
An hour later, they were all still there, sitting in the main room. Mary found out that the brunette she saw was Lorna Dane, and the furry man (teeheeheee) was James Logan. She couldn't help but feel a little unimportant, her and Luke were nothing next to the maximum security prison guards, that and lonely. She wondered if Bobby and Natalie were okay, they probably were. Despite his oh-so-charming absentmindedness, and the tendency to act like a kid himself, Bobby was very responsible when it came to their daughter. "Ah'm gonna go take a walk."
"You sure, Mary?" Alex asked as he fixed himself another cup of steaming hot coffee,
"We were just about to sit down and play cards."
"No, ah'm not much of a card shark." Luke shot her a knowing smile before she turned to leave the room. Actually, she was an excellent card player, poker being her specialty, but right then she didn't feel like playing. Mary made her way down the crème colored hall, hugging her jacket close to her body, trying to stop the shivering. It must have been below 30 out there, Mary wondered if they gave the prisoner's blankets. The hall ended abruptly at a large red exit sign, to the left of a flight of stairs. She sighed; her breath came like smoke out of her nostrils.
"Au bout du monde où je suis né\
La vie est dure, l'amour cassé\
C'est pas la peine de faire comme si\
Tout est foutu, tout est pourri\
La vie est dure y'a pas d'espoir\
Quand on est mauvais comme moi"\
Mary walked down the hall, following the ominous voice. Someone was singing. She greeted the other prisoners with eyes glares, and they responded from their cells with less than polite gestures of their own, but her feet were still traveling forward. An unseen force was driving her down the hall.
"Passe la bouteille, sers moi un verre\
Plus que je bois, plus je vois clair\
Y'a pas d'avenir, y'en aura pas\
Y'a qu'l'amertume et le tracas\
Des fois je vois l'étoile rouge\
J'entends l'appel, je sens le loup\"
The voice was sad, and not exactly the best in the world. But to Mary, it was beautiful, raw, pure emotion. She continued down the prisoner hall, her face masked in shadow. The only sounds besides his singing-she was pretty sure it was a man-being her rapid breath, and the soft moans of the inmates.
"Prends ton couteau, allons dehors\
Viens donc danser avec 'Tit Jean\
A coup de poing et au fusil\
Je suis le plus fort dans le pays\
Ça m'a donné que de l'ennui\
Des points de suture et des ennemis\"
How she wished she had paid attention in French class. The voice was growing closer. Mary came up to the last cell, and stopped a few feet away. She could see him, sitting on top of his bed, smoke curling out of the cigarette he let dangle from his fingertips.
"Je m'appelle Jean, Jean Batailleur\"
"Is that yoah' name?" He stopped singing, but didn't look at her. It was a silly question, but it was the only thing she could think of to say at the time.
"Remy"
"Ah'm Mary." He laughed lightly, and dropping the cigarette got to his feet. Remy approached the bars that separated them, a smile on his handsome face.
"Well, chere, how can I help you?"
------------------------------------
~yay! Remy! Finally! -Foo