Well, I just got done watching Resident Evil (the movie with the magical Milla Jovavitch). Not bad, a few cheesy bits, lots of fucking creepy dead people. I don't like walking dead people anymore than you do -shakes her finger- Wow, re-reading through this chapter, I'm now sad that I have lots of animated dead myself. I will never again watch movies having to do with things I'm writing about. -giggles- One of those dead guys looked like someone I used to date though! Even my mommy said so!!! Haahaa. You remember the weirdest things!
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"Fucking son of a bitch!" Aya hurled himself helplessly at the wall, trying to pound his way to Youji's rescue. That fucking corpse. It was gone, slimed footsteps leading up to the fridge, no way down. The key was down there with them. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Slamming him shoulder against floral wallpaper until his leg all but gave out from the pained jolting.
"Big stupid-head." Fate pushed him aside. "I need you for combat-fighting when I get door open, none of this stupid hitting wall thing." She lightly smacked him on the back of the head before opening up that innocent looking refrigerator, knocking the sparsely condimented shelves aside and punching the opened lock mechanism with her bare fist. A shower of sparks and it gave a shuddery lurch, sliding over again to reveal the pitch-black doorway.
He pulled his blade, dashing down without a thought for the uneven fighting grounds. The struggle of bodies barely outlined by the fluorescent bulb up above in the kitchen, he couldn't tell if the underdog being pummeled was one of his teammates, or the walking dead man.
"Get off!" Youji's panicked shout, the top figure reeling back, a warped silhouette from the side. Aya swung, aiming for what he assumed was a throat, clipping air as it leapt back in the dark with inhuman speed.
"Get some goddamned light down here, Woman!" Slashing at it, hoping for any connection to prove it was real, not some new figment of insanity he'd concocted for himself.
"Turn on fucking light switch, stupid man." Fate leapt down, doing it herself, kitchen knife in hand.
"You?" Gurgling rage coming out as frothy old muck from its lungs. Not another word as it hurled Aya to the side, turning and leaping for Fate's throat as she flicked the switch. Once again the corpse leapt back in time to avoid any further damage to its ravaged body, upraised arms blocking light sensitive eyeholes and brushing against the hanging light bulb, sending it swinging, creating shadows and flickers of motion in the corner of all eyes, drawing attention away from the true target.
Taking advantage of their distraction, the body, Cobarde, homed in on his original target, catching Youji up with one arm, muscles bulging through tattered skin as he pulled the blond assassin upright, crook of his elbow cutting off Youji's air supply. "I will snap his neck."
Youji gagged, desperate for air, repulsed by the slabs of tissue sliding against his neck, terrified by this vile nightmare come to life. "Get off, let me go!" Mouthing the words he couldn't find the air to speak, trying to struggle free, desperate for things not to end this way. Vision graying out. This was the closest he'd ever been to death. The comforting numbness was almost better than the reeking cloud of horror surrounding him.
A single gunshot broke the hum of ragged breathing, the slowly fading thumps caused by Youji's flailing heels against the unaffected form behind him. Youji fell forwards as Cobarde released him, the walking dead man staggering back against one computer column.
"Fucking bitch." One hand rising up to feel the slick matter draining from the hole in its head, movements faltering, slumping over the glowing keys on the control panel.
Fate twirled her handgun across her fingertips before slamming it firmly into its shoulder holster. "Fuck you too." Grim. "He is not necessarily dead yet," she announced as Cobarde fell the final few feet to the floor, "You keep an eye on him. I go find something for chopping."
"Youji! Youji!" Omi wobbled to his feet, stumbling over to Youji, Aya following suite.
Breaths so sharp they sounded painful wrenched themselves from Youji's throat. Aya crouched down, resting one hand on Youji's back. "No! Get back." He pushed all helping hands away. "Don't touch me." Arms curling around his torso. "My back, what's wrong with my back?" Shuddering, rubbing at the pilled up film of greasy skin stuck to his neck. "Get it off me!" For a moment the nightmare world swells and encompasses his waking reality.
"Calm down, calm down, we'll fix it." Omi gingerly pulled away the torn shreds of shirt from Youji's back. "It's all sliced up. What's happened?"
"His ribs." Aya turned away, mouth twisted with disgust. "Those pulled apart ribs cut Youji's back while he was being strangled." He pivoted on his heel, arms clamped tightly across his chest, eyes riveted on the still body lying behind Youji.
"Are you okay?"
Youji shook his head. "Just leave me alone for a minute."
Omi backed off, hands coming up to rub at his temples. "Is it moving again, Aya?"
"No."
"This will do the trick just fine." Fate sauntered back down; rusted axe casually slung over one shoulder. "You hold gun and shoot his face if he try to move away when I start with chopping." Fate swung the axe up over her head, lips spread in a truly inspired grin of insanity. After the first few moist sounding squelches, Omi and Aya turned away, repulsed.
"Hey, what happened here? Our dead guy get up and walk?" Ken peered down the stairwell, tone light and joking. "Holy SHIT!" He thumped the rest of the way down. "What did I miss? Omi are you okay? Youji?" He ducked down next to Omi first, trying to get a glimpse of his face while alternately examining Youji's lacerated back and gawking at Fate's enthusiastic dismembering.
Aya chose to wash his hands of the whole affair, heading for the brighter, saner kitchen, steps hindered once again as the adrenaline rush wore off. Youji could have emotional spasms without his assistance. Heartless though he was often assumed to be, there were still feelings hiding beneath layers of calculated insensitivity. Only one rejection was necessary to get the hint across with Aya Fujimiya. He was being shunned, punished for some triviality he'd failed to consider in this rapidly warping relationship of convenience he shared with his teammate. If only he could work up the need to escape to replace to dull sense of melancholy that gripped his chest.
"If this gets infected I am going to be pissed!"
He heard Youji regaining his equilibrium one flight down, complaining and fussing as was his want. It was almost disappointing to find his name left out of the blustery speech. It didn't matter. Aya pointedly examined the large hunks of flesh still caught on the dangling meat hooks, swinging from the middle of the room; pointedly ignored Youji's reemergence, his mindless whining.
"If you bathe like smart human person, it will heal just fine. Scratches not deep." Fate snorted her disgust with all stupid, hypochondriac males. She followed closely behind Ken and Omi, swinging what might be an arm in one hand, and dragging a ropey leg behind her, bumping up the stairs.
"Let's say we call it a day, eh?" Ken nervously darted a glance from Youji to Omi, and then with a tad more mistrust at Fate. "You knew he wasn't dead, didn't you? Why exactly did we come back here and leave him hanging up there then?"
Fate shrugged. "Pure entertainment value." She applied herself to the task of clearing out the moldering dishes from Cobarde's sink. Ken could only hope she wasn't going to utilize the garbage disposal as he suspected she would. He didn't think it was made to handle human bones.
"Let's say we wait until psycho bitch is done playing with body parts and then go back down there and get some work done." Youji straightened up, jaw set. "We don't have time to put things off until we feel like it. Fate, how soon can you and your macabre little friend clear out?" He tilted his head to the side, ignoring the draft chilling his back. He'd forgo a new shirt at this point, to get it all over with once and for all. "If we leave, I'm not coming back here."
"Give me fifteen minutes, I make it all sparkly for you."
"My assistance is not necessary here." Aya reclaimed his coat from a Formica countertop.
"Where are you going?" The determination melted away from Youji's face, caught up in the dread of the house once again.
"To pursue my own venues. There remains, as you stated, very little time." There wasn't anything to say in reply to that, and he leaft without any further protests, already caught up once again in the cloud of his own contemplation.
"This sister thing. I never got a chance to really ask you about it?" Ken asked some time later, leaning over Youji's shoulder as he thumbed through countless manila folders without any rhyme or reason, searching as erratically as Omi on the computer, hoping luck would hold and bring something to the surface.
"You know as much now as I do."
"Is she in here, can we pull up a physical file now?" Ken reaches for the "F" drawer.
"I pulled the file and took it home with me yesterday."
"And?"
"And Aya commandeered it and I haven't seen it since." He sighed.
"Omi, look up Fujimiya as soon as you've got a handle on the system." Ken transferred shoulders, sensing Youji wanted some time off to mope on his own. The team dynamic was holding without Aya; his presence so removed as to be non-existent for the most part even when he was physically present.
"You think Cobarde would mind if I went to use his shower facility?" Fate's accent steadily evolved, coming closer and closer to something recognizable as more time passed, though her grammar and vocabulary continued to fluctuate.
Youji was unable to decide if she was the biggest faker in the world, or simply insane beyond all comprehension. He was opting for the later of the two. He wished Aya were here to hazard a guess of his own. He wished Aya had a sense of humor to hazard a guess with. A fresh shirt would be nice too. The antibiotic Omi had coated the shallow, stinging scratches with seemed to cool with the air around them, raising goosebumps on his arms.
"Any little bit left of him you didn't manage to slice up and fit down the garbage disposal probably lacks the capability to make any displeasure known." Omi smiled, warming to Fate's quirky nature in a way none of his three partners seem able to. It most likely helped that every other sentence directed at him by the devil woman didn't involve the words "stupid" or "idiot". Yup, definitely a point of consideration.
The phone rang.
Cobarde's house phone rang.
They shared shocked looks and hesitant shrugs, crowding into the living room to stare at the machine. Four more rings and the machine kicked in. They listened to a dead man's voice inviting the caller to leave a message.
"Hello insipid ones. Having a lovely time in Wonderland?" The voice that answered Cobarde's incitement sentYouji reeling backwards.
"Why don't you pick up? It's silly to pretend when I can see you all standing right there, watching the phone, waiting for it to leap to life."
"Oh gods, no. No." Youji's head shook in denial.
"I imagine you're a little startled, Mr. Kudou. Why don't you pick up the phone so we can... chat."
Ken's arm lashed out, white knuckled as he shouted into the phone. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Leave us alone. You're dead and it's through." He slammed the receiver back into its cradle before he could think twice.
Youji's hand shook as he reached for Ken's sleeve. "I don't think that was a good idea." He whispered the words, unwilling to add the volume that might make them real.
In the kitchen, the distinctive ringer of Youji's cell phone sounded, making everyone jump again, the chirpy cartoon melody contrasting horribly with the gravity of the situation. No one wanted to step back around the corner to answer the phone, half-expecting a pile of sludge to be reforming into their walking horror-movie friend as it oozed back up the drain. An empty kitchen awaited them, air resonating with the endless perk on his phone.
"Don't answer it." Omi caught both of their arms, leaving Fate on the outside of their semi-circle. "Don't answer it."
"I have to. Aya's gone." The sound halted as Youji's hand hovered indecisively. A moments pause as the same number was doubtlessly re-dialed before the song started up again.
"Hello?" Dry mouthed and wide eyed, he turned to watch Ken and Omi.
"That was foolish of you to leave your home unguarded again. Almost as moronic as your decision to side with the raving lunatic." It took Youji a moment in his fog of terror to realize the reference was made to describe Fate.
"What do you want, Ko-Ishi?"
"You have been busy. Do you know all about me now?" The cruel smile was apparent even through the static of his cellular connection. "Do you know what I really am, what I want you for? Do you know what you have done?"
Youji didn't know how to reply. He wished Aya were here. He could use Aya's icy silence, his strength of being. He wished Ken or Omi would come to stand by him so he could close his eyes and feel less abandoned.
"I would be willing to make a trade of course. I'm a reasonable evil as far as things like that go. You for the darling little sister."
A painfully dry swallow as Youji clenched the counter behind him. Here came the clincher. Aya couldn't know. In his mind there was no other outcome. If Aya knew he would drug and bind Youji himself to regain his sister, the real Aya.
"I thought not. That will come later then. Your level of articulation seems somewhat diminished since we last conversed. You were so artful in your pleas for mercy; it's a sad contrast. Perhaps you could turn the phone over to the worthless boy with the volatile temper. After you all hastily exit the building of course. Time is of the essence. It would be a shame if our game were to end here with the demolition of the building."
"Get out now. He's going to blow the house up." Youji sprung into action as realization galvanized him to break the fit of paralysis. "We have to get out now." He pushed Fate when she didn't start running fast enough, they hit the door way as the first rumble could be felt from beneath the building, the following draft of roasting air throwing them several yards across the tidy front lawn. Despite his overwhelming desire, the phone remained clenched in his hand, undamaged and still connected.
"Didn't have time to grab any of those precious files, did you? Are you out of the loop again, Weiss?" Ko-Ishi tried to worm his way into Youji's brain through his ear canal, utilizing sound waves. "Should I wait until the illustrious Ran Fujimiya returns to your own untouched home and call him to ask about a grounds for trade? I'm sure he'd be much more willing to negotiate."
"No." Soft with dread.
"Youji, give me the phone. Don't talk to him anymore. Give me the phone."
"Yes, give him the phone. I think I like your friend. He intrigues me."
"You fucking son of a bitch-" Ken started out in full rant and then fell silent. After a matter of seconds the information screen glowed green, signaling a disconnection.
"What did he say?" Omi scrambled to his feet, glancing warily about in fading twilight.
"All our days are numbered."
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First draft done at 5:30 exactly in the morning. I love not sleeping. It gives me so much more fun time to play around with. Not. Hey! Oi! Bum head! Send me an e-mail or something!! Akainobaka@mchsi.com or darkhunter@ijustdontcare.com
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"Fucking son of a bitch!" Aya hurled himself helplessly at the wall, trying to pound his way to Youji's rescue. That fucking corpse. It was gone, slimed footsteps leading up to the fridge, no way down. The key was down there with them. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Slamming him shoulder against floral wallpaper until his leg all but gave out from the pained jolting.
"Big stupid-head." Fate pushed him aside. "I need you for combat-fighting when I get door open, none of this stupid hitting wall thing." She lightly smacked him on the back of the head before opening up that innocent looking refrigerator, knocking the sparsely condimented shelves aside and punching the opened lock mechanism with her bare fist. A shower of sparks and it gave a shuddery lurch, sliding over again to reveal the pitch-black doorway.
He pulled his blade, dashing down without a thought for the uneven fighting grounds. The struggle of bodies barely outlined by the fluorescent bulb up above in the kitchen, he couldn't tell if the underdog being pummeled was one of his teammates, or the walking dead man.
"Get off!" Youji's panicked shout, the top figure reeling back, a warped silhouette from the side. Aya swung, aiming for what he assumed was a throat, clipping air as it leapt back in the dark with inhuman speed.
"Get some goddamned light down here, Woman!" Slashing at it, hoping for any connection to prove it was real, not some new figment of insanity he'd concocted for himself.
"Turn on fucking light switch, stupid man." Fate leapt down, doing it herself, kitchen knife in hand.
"You?" Gurgling rage coming out as frothy old muck from its lungs. Not another word as it hurled Aya to the side, turning and leaping for Fate's throat as she flicked the switch. Once again the corpse leapt back in time to avoid any further damage to its ravaged body, upraised arms blocking light sensitive eyeholes and brushing against the hanging light bulb, sending it swinging, creating shadows and flickers of motion in the corner of all eyes, drawing attention away from the true target.
Taking advantage of their distraction, the body, Cobarde, homed in on his original target, catching Youji up with one arm, muscles bulging through tattered skin as he pulled the blond assassin upright, crook of his elbow cutting off Youji's air supply. "I will snap his neck."
Youji gagged, desperate for air, repulsed by the slabs of tissue sliding against his neck, terrified by this vile nightmare come to life. "Get off, let me go!" Mouthing the words he couldn't find the air to speak, trying to struggle free, desperate for things not to end this way. Vision graying out. This was the closest he'd ever been to death. The comforting numbness was almost better than the reeking cloud of horror surrounding him.
A single gunshot broke the hum of ragged breathing, the slowly fading thumps caused by Youji's flailing heels against the unaffected form behind him. Youji fell forwards as Cobarde released him, the walking dead man staggering back against one computer column.
"Fucking bitch." One hand rising up to feel the slick matter draining from the hole in its head, movements faltering, slumping over the glowing keys on the control panel.
Fate twirled her handgun across her fingertips before slamming it firmly into its shoulder holster. "Fuck you too." Grim. "He is not necessarily dead yet," she announced as Cobarde fell the final few feet to the floor, "You keep an eye on him. I go find something for chopping."
"Youji! Youji!" Omi wobbled to his feet, stumbling over to Youji, Aya following suite.
Breaths so sharp they sounded painful wrenched themselves from Youji's throat. Aya crouched down, resting one hand on Youji's back. "No! Get back." He pushed all helping hands away. "Don't touch me." Arms curling around his torso. "My back, what's wrong with my back?" Shuddering, rubbing at the pilled up film of greasy skin stuck to his neck. "Get it off me!" For a moment the nightmare world swells and encompasses his waking reality.
"Calm down, calm down, we'll fix it." Omi gingerly pulled away the torn shreds of shirt from Youji's back. "It's all sliced up. What's happened?"
"His ribs." Aya turned away, mouth twisted with disgust. "Those pulled apart ribs cut Youji's back while he was being strangled." He pivoted on his heel, arms clamped tightly across his chest, eyes riveted on the still body lying behind Youji.
"Are you okay?"
Youji shook his head. "Just leave me alone for a minute."
Omi backed off, hands coming up to rub at his temples. "Is it moving again, Aya?"
"No."
"This will do the trick just fine." Fate sauntered back down; rusted axe casually slung over one shoulder. "You hold gun and shoot his face if he try to move away when I start with chopping." Fate swung the axe up over her head, lips spread in a truly inspired grin of insanity. After the first few moist sounding squelches, Omi and Aya turned away, repulsed.
"Hey, what happened here? Our dead guy get up and walk?" Ken peered down the stairwell, tone light and joking. "Holy SHIT!" He thumped the rest of the way down. "What did I miss? Omi are you okay? Youji?" He ducked down next to Omi first, trying to get a glimpse of his face while alternately examining Youji's lacerated back and gawking at Fate's enthusiastic dismembering.
Aya chose to wash his hands of the whole affair, heading for the brighter, saner kitchen, steps hindered once again as the adrenaline rush wore off. Youji could have emotional spasms without his assistance. Heartless though he was often assumed to be, there were still feelings hiding beneath layers of calculated insensitivity. Only one rejection was necessary to get the hint across with Aya Fujimiya. He was being shunned, punished for some triviality he'd failed to consider in this rapidly warping relationship of convenience he shared with his teammate. If only he could work up the need to escape to replace to dull sense of melancholy that gripped his chest.
"If this gets infected I am going to be pissed!"
He heard Youji regaining his equilibrium one flight down, complaining and fussing as was his want. It was almost disappointing to find his name left out of the blustery speech. It didn't matter. Aya pointedly examined the large hunks of flesh still caught on the dangling meat hooks, swinging from the middle of the room; pointedly ignored Youji's reemergence, his mindless whining.
"If you bathe like smart human person, it will heal just fine. Scratches not deep." Fate snorted her disgust with all stupid, hypochondriac males. She followed closely behind Ken and Omi, swinging what might be an arm in one hand, and dragging a ropey leg behind her, bumping up the stairs.
"Let's say we call it a day, eh?" Ken nervously darted a glance from Youji to Omi, and then with a tad more mistrust at Fate. "You knew he wasn't dead, didn't you? Why exactly did we come back here and leave him hanging up there then?"
Fate shrugged. "Pure entertainment value." She applied herself to the task of clearing out the moldering dishes from Cobarde's sink. Ken could only hope she wasn't going to utilize the garbage disposal as he suspected she would. He didn't think it was made to handle human bones.
"Let's say we wait until psycho bitch is done playing with body parts and then go back down there and get some work done." Youji straightened up, jaw set. "We don't have time to put things off until we feel like it. Fate, how soon can you and your macabre little friend clear out?" He tilted his head to the side, ignoring the draft chilling his back. He'd forgo a new shirt at this point, to get it all over with once and for all. "If we leave, I'm not coming back here."
"Give me fifteen minutes, I make it all sparkly for you."
"My assistance is not necessary here." Aya reclaimed his coat from a Formica countertop.
"Where are you going?" The determination melted away from Youji's face, caught up in the dread of the house once again.
"To pursue my own venues. There remains, as you stated, very little time." There wasn't anything to say in reply to that, and he leaft without any further protests, already caught up once again in the cloud of his own contemplation.
"This sister thing. I never got a chance to really ask you about it?" Ken asked some time later, leaning over Youji's shoulder as he thumbed through countless manila folders without any rhyme or reason, searching as erratically as Omi on the computer, hoping luck would hold and bring something to the surface.
"You know as much now as I do."
"Is she in here, can we pull up a physical file now?" Ken reaches for the "F" drawer.
"I pulled the file and took it home with me yesterday."
"And?"
"And Aya commandeered it and I haven't seen it since." He sighed.
"Omi, look up Fujimiya as soon as you've got a handle on the system." Ken transferred shoulders, sensing Youji wanted some time off to mope on his own. The team dynamic was holding without Aya; his presence so removed as to be non-existent for the most part even when he was physically present.
"You think Cobarde would mind if I went to use his shower facility?" Fate's accent steadily evolved, coming closer and closer to something recognizable as more time passed, though her grammar and vocabulary continued to fluctuate.
Youji was unable to decide if she was the biggest faker in the world, or simply insane beyond all comprehension. He was opting for the later of the two. He wished Aya were here to hazard a guess of his own. He wished Aya had a sense of humor to hazard a guess with. A fresh shirt would be nice too. The antibiotic Omi had coated the shallow, stinging scratches with seemed to cool with the air around them, raising goosebumps on his arms.
"Any little bit left of him you didn't manage to slice up and fit down the garbage disposal probably lacks the capability to make any displeasure known." Omi smiled, warming to Fate's quirky nature in a way none of his three partners seem able to. It most likely helped that every other sentence directed at him by the devil woman didn't involve the words "stupid" or "idiot". Yup, definitely a point of consideration.
The phone rang.
Cobarde's house phone rang.
They shared shocked looks and hesitant shrugs, crowding into the living room to stare at the machine. Four more rings and the machine kicked in. They listened to a dead man's voice inviting the caller to leave a message.
"Hello insipid ones. Having a lovely time in Wonderland?" The voice that answered Cobarde's incitement sentYouji reeling backwards.
"Why don't you pick up? It's silly to pretend when I can see you all standing right there, watching the phone, waiting for it to leap to life."
"Oh gods, no. No." Youji's head shook in denial.
"I imagine you're a little startled, Mr. Kudou. Why don't you pick up the phone so we can... chat."
Ken's arm lashed out, white knuckled as he shouted into the phone. "Fuck you! Fuck you! Leave us alone. You're dead and it's through." He slammed the receiver back into its cradle before he could think twice.
Youji's hand shook as he reached for Ken's sleeve. "I don't think that was a good idea." He whispered the words, unwilling to add the volume that might make them real.
In the kitchen, the distinctive ringer of Youji's cell phone sounded, making everyone jump again, the chirpy cartoon melody contrasting horribly with the gravity of the situation. No one wanted to step back around the corner to answer the phone, half-expecting a pile of sludge to be reforming into their walking horror-movie friend as it oozed back up the drain. An empty kitchen awaited them, air resonating with the endless perk on his phone.
"Don't answer it." Omi caught both of their arms, leaving Fate on the outside of their semi-circle. "Don't answer it."
"I have to. Aya's gone." The sound halted as Youji's hand hovered indecisively. A moments pause as the same number was doubtlessly re-dialed before the song started up again.
"Hello?" Dry mouthed and wide eyed, he turned to watch Ken and Omi.
"That was foolish of you to leave your home unguarded again. Almost as moronic as your decision to side with the raving lunatic." It took Youji a moment in his fog of terror to realize the reference was made to describe Fate.
"What do you want, Ko-Ishi?"
"You have been busy. Do you know all about me now?" The cruel smile was apparent even through the static of his cellular connection. "Do you know what I really am, what I want you for? Do you know what you have done?"
Youji didn't know how to reply. He wished Aya were here. He could use Aya's icy silence, his strength of being. He wished Ken or Omi would come to stand by him so he could close his eyes and feel less abandoned.
"I would be willing to make a trade of course. I'm a reasonable evil as far as things like that go. You for the darling little sister."
A painfully dry swallow as Youji clenched the counter behind him. Here came the clincher. Aya couldn't know. In his mind there was no other outcome. If Aya knew he would drug and bind Youji himself to regain his sister, the real Aya.
"I thought not. That will come later then. Your level of articulation seems somewhat diminished since we last conversed. You were so artful in your pleas for mercy; it's a sad contrast. Perhaps you could turn the phone over to the worthless boy with the volatile temper. After you all hastily exit the building of course. Time is of the essence. It would be a shame if our game were to end here with the demolition of the building."
"Get out now. He's going to blow the house up." Youji sprung into action as realization galvanized him to break the fit of paralysis. "We have to get out now." He pushed Fate when she didn't start running fast enough, they hit the door way as the first rumble could be felt from beneath the building, the following draft of roasting air throwing them several yards across the tidy front lawn. Despite his overwhelming desire, the phone remained clenched in his hand, undamaged and still connected.
"Didn't have time to grab any of those precious files, did you? Are you out of the loop again, Weiss?" Ko-Ishi tried to worm his way into Youji's brain through his ear canal, utilizing sound waves. "Should I wait until the illustrious Ran Fujimiya returns to your own untouched home and call him to ask about a grounds for trade? I'm sure he'd be much more willing to negotiate."
"No." Soft with dread.
"Youji, give me the phone. Don't talk to him anymore. Give me the phone."
"Yes, give him the phone. I think I like your friend. He intrigues me."
"You fucking son of a bitch-" Ken started out in full rant and then fell silent. After a matter of seconds the information screen glowed green, signaling a disconnection.
"What did he say?" Omi scrambled to his feet, glancing warily about in fading twilight.
"All our days are numbered."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
First draft done at 5:30 exactly in the morning. I love not sleeping. It gives me so much more fun time to play around with. Not. Hey! Oi! Bum head! Send me an e-mail or something!! Akainobaka@mchsi.com or darkhunter@ijustdontcare.com