Well, I happened to get my first flame on this story recently, and let me
comment on it.
This is the flame:
Your story kinda went downhill...WTF? It did go downhill..sucks
This is what I have to say:
Hey, sorry if it's not as exciting as before, but it's getting there and I don't want to rush it! And, the reviewer put '...' as their name. This is just cowardly! If you're gonna flame me, at least let me know who you are - otherwise your opinion means nothing because you just happen to be an idiot scared of letting me know who you are because you think I'll retaliate (which I won't, you big chicken!). Plus, just saying 'this went downhill' doesn't help me improve it at all. *clucks tongue*
Thank you to all you who left reviews, even '...' - even though they in particular offered nothing even semi-intelligent.
~~~~~
Ironically, it felt like I slept for eternity, and the only reason I woke up at all was because I felt the bed shake and heard a rather forceful thud accompanied by a scream as Shin was thrown across the room. Yes, that got me wide awake in no time, green eyes snapping open and heart racing in panic.
The door was locked tight still, speaking of no intruders, but Shin was sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, head hanging forward in pain and defeat. A man dressed all in black stood before him, talking to his partner in such a loud, rushed way that I couldn't quite keep up with my sleep-slogged mind. And then, nodding, the other one stepped forward and delivered a heavy kick square to his chest that brought the broken body to life, throwing Shin's head back as he cried out.
I began to scramble off the bed, not really knowing what I was going to do afterwards, but my feet had scarcely touched the floor before I felt a strong pair of hands wrap around my arms and twist them cruelly behind my back. All I was really capable of doing then was writhing in the grasp and pathetically gasping, "Ouch! That HURTS!"
My captor paid no mind, but gave a cold, heartless little laugh at my expense. He wrestled briefly with me, swaying from side to side as I jerked back and forth, and then brought me closer to his own body, sliding an arm around my neck. "Quit it," he growled, irritated now.
I froze. That voice... Briefly, I was able to turn my head and land eyes on the man, my wide-eyed gaze met by the expressionless face of none other than Vicious. He didn't smile or smirk or even frown. His lips were a straight line that spoke of nothing, but I could feel my own mouth trembling and my eyes filling with tears because he was going to kill me and Shin. I just knew it. He was REALLY going to kill me.
Vicious.
"Vicious..."
He didn't hear me as I sagged a little against him and gave up because this was the end. Who was I kidding? Vicious was the one who killed Spike - he forced Julia to stay with him when she wanted to leave. Benjamin - the name Vicious had called himself - was just an illusion now. I could scarcely remember him... Had he been someone else?
Shin tried to stumble to his feet, staggering a little as blood dripped from all his reopened wounds. "Don't," he hissed, chest heaving for breath, "touch her! LET HER GO!"
Vicious nodded at the two men again and one cracked Shin smartly over the head with the butt of his gun.
"VICIOUS!" Shin screamed, like it was some sort of swear word. "VICIOUS!" And he dropped to his knees and received a swift kick to the gut and then another blow to the head. He rolled onto the floor and lay still, bruised and bleeding from his scarlet lips.
"Stop it!" I shouted, and then, begging, "Please! You're hurting him! You're HURTING him!"
Looking back later, I found myself thinking, 'what kind of stupid comment is that?' That was fully their intention, to hurt Shin. They wanted him to suffer.
I was about to babble some more idiocy when Vicious turned me around and slapped the back of his hand smartly across my face, the sound of his palm colliding with my cheek ringing in my ears so that I began to sob afterwards.
And that's really not like me.
And then Vicious pushed me down to my knees and he placed his hands on my shoulders and he told me, "Watch, Miss Valentine. See what happens to people who betray me? Just like Spike and Julia..."
I watched as Shin was beat long after he passed out and then they picked up his shattered form and carried the barely breathing man from the room, leaving streaks of blood on the wall and floor. Vicious didn't stick around long after, and neither did I. He called in another man and pushed me towards him.
"Take her back," he said flippantly, cold eyes following as I was numbly escorted from the room.
~~~~~
The syndicate was just an old building, but it was beautifully furnished - like real offices. The symbol of a red dragon was emblazoned on the wooden floor, absolutely artistic. Everyone strolling about had well-tailored uniforms - black with trim of gold. Vicious was cruel, he was unfeeling, and he clearly understood I loved him and therefore enjoyed torturing me - but he really could pull an organization together in no time flat.
My guard passed me off to a woman, some secretary, it looked like, and she was a bit more kind - though that's not saying much. She took my arm, seeing as how I was badly shaken up, and led me to a 'holding room'. It was really plain with just a cot and a window, but it was nicer than where Shin probably was. "Someone will be in to see you shortly," she said with a frown, closing the door.
I heard a lock click almost immediately afterwards.
~~~~~
Two hours later, enter the bulldozer. I call him the bulldozer because he is a massive, massive man with broad shoulders and muscular limbs and a head of thick, jet black hair that was pushed back by a headband decorated with none other than - you guessed it - a red dragon. While scary in appearance, if you simply look at his face, he is not ugly, almost handsome, really, but his features are too hard and too large and his lips are much too thin and his eyes are simply dull. Blue, I think, but not a pretty blue.
However, unlike most people here, he does smile. And he's a doctor. A man that large should NOT be a doctor! He should be...something that does not involve precision and needles and people's lives.
"My name is Desma," he said easily. "Vicious sent me."
"Vicious sent you?" I repeated dumbly.
"Yes. He's concerned about your leg."
Angry, I snapped, "I didn't know Vicious was concerned about anything."
"He's not, usually."
Desma was unusually good at taking care of the wound, which surprised me, but I suppose syndicates need good doctors with all the gun fights that go on. Then, much to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to go with him to see Shin, who hadn't been looked at yet.
I told him I'd like to go, and after the display earlier, I had not realized Shin was meant to heal.
"He's just being punished," Desma said simply, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Vicious is going to offer him another job and if he doesn't take it, then we'll see how well he fares."
We came to Shin's room and entered, and man, did I ever want to throw up. Shin was a bloody mess of a man. Stretched out across a simple cot in a room surprisingly like the one given to me, he had stripped of all his torn bandages and left the wounds open, bleeding, raw. His left eye was encased in a circle of soft, purpled flesh, and scrapes and bruises littered the rest of his body. Slowly, one green eye rolled over towards me and he bared a crooked grin, blood crusted at the corners of his mouth.
"Hey...Faye," he whispered, breath rattling in his throat. "You ok?"
"Yeah," I choked out. It was almost heart-breaking, his concern for my well being when he was so hurt. "How about you?"
"Ah...it hurts. I hope Jet got back ok..."
"I'm sure he did."
I sat and held his hand as Desma began to poke and prod at his wounds. Every now and then his fingers curled around mine so tight I thought they'd fall off, but he always released me soon afterward with a gigantic sigh. The stitching was the worst by far, for Desma gave him no warning and nothing to ease the pain, just plunged on ahead and scolded him for jumping in surprise.
"Vicious...came by..." Shin grunted through a clenched jaw, gripping my hand tight in his as he squinted up at the ceiling. "Didn't say much... Did he...talk to you?"
"No," I said, rather thankful for that. I didn't really want to see him after what he'd done. The reality of facing that the man I'd been in love with had not even died, but disappeared all together within another, was a very hard thing to accept.
Shin passed out shortly after and I remained on the edge of his bed, gently smoothing my fingers over his damp hair, watching the pain melt away from his expression. I would've stayed there until he had awoken again had Desma not forced me to leave.
~~~~~
I eventually bored myself to sleep in the little holding room, staring out the window and wistfully hoping that maybe the ghost of Spike would come and set me free.
Hey, nine hours alone in a tiny room can drive you nuts.
I snuggled under the single sheet on the stiff mattress and looked one last time out at the dark, star-littered sky, sighing. Vicious, back when he called himself Benjamin, had a million corny phrases about stars in the skies. It was like he wanted to be a poet, but just didn't have the right flare for it.
"Look," he would say, while I lay in bed, pretending to be asleep. "The stars are so bright tonight! Like lanterns to guide the lonely, don't you think?"
Granted, the line did sound nice with his voice. Very low, rumbling, oddly comforting.
I always was in bed while he stood at the window, gazing out and smiling to himself over the beauty he found everywhere around him in the world. And then he would turn, grin in my direction, and say, "Don't you like the star's? Their the poor man's diamond, it seems to me."
"Hmph," I had grumbled.
He came over and crawled into the bed, inquiring, "Still sick?"
"Very."
"Oh." He laid down beside me, on top of the covers whereas I was under, and slung an arm carefully around my waist, his head on the pillow behind mine so that his breath stirred my hair. "Night then."
"Good night, Vicious...."
I opened my eyes, back in that annoyingly small holding room, snuggled down in that horrible bed. Drowsily, I contemplated what was going on inside my heart and why I had wasted so much time and worried way too much.
My heavy eyelids fell shut again as a little sigh slipped from my mouth - dreams didn't come easy now. But I still tried to envision those nights where I'd felt secure and loved and hadn't even realized it. I tried to let myself slide down into that memory and recall the sounds of Vicious moving restlessly through the room, murmuring to himself and sometimes to me.
"Miss Valentine?"
I flew up in the bed, startled at the voice. The secretary from before, still in uniform, was standing in my doorway with that officious look of hers. With one long forefinger, she pushed the glasses higher up on her nose and narrowed her eyes at me. "Vicious has requested your presence."
Great. Things were going from bad to just intolerable. It couldn't get much worse.
"In his bedroom," she added.
Then again, maybe it could.
~~~~~
Review! I would thank everyone individually here, but I fell off a horse today and sprained my wrist, so it hurts too much to type unless I do it one-handed, and that takes a while! I really do appreciate EVERY review I got though - except for that one flame, and that's only because it was just plain pointless and obviously born from a mind of low intelligence... If you're going to flame me, at least tell me WHY - and don't be a coward about it. Leave a name.
Yes, I'm still fuming.
Ouch - my wrist kills!
Review!
This is the flame:
Your story kinda went downhill...WTF? It did go downhill..sucks
This is what I have to say:
Hey, sorry if it's not as exciting as before, but it's getting there and I don't want to rush it! And, the reviewer put '...' as their name. This is just cowardly! If you're gonna flame me, at least let me know who you are - otherwise your opinion means nothing because you just happen to be an idiot scared of letting me know who you are because you think I'll retaliate (which I won't, you big chicken!). Plus, just saying 'this went downhill' doesn't help me improve it at all. *clucks tongue*
Thank you to all you who left reviews, even '...' - even though they in particular offered nothing even semi-intelligent.
~~~~~
Ironically, it felt like I slept for eternity, and the only reason I woke up at all was because I felt the bed shake and heard a rather forceful thud accompanied by a scream as Shin was thrown across the room. Yes, that got me wide awake in no time, green eyes snapping open and heart racing in panic.
The door was locked tight still, speaking of no intruders, but Shin was sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, head hanging forward in pain and defeat. A man dressed all in black stood before him, talking to his partner in such a loud, rushed way that I couldn't quite keep up with my sleep-slogged mind. And then, nodding, the other one stepped forward and delivered a heavy kick square to his chest that brought the broken body to life, throwing Shin's head back as he cried out.
I began to scramble off the bed, not really knowing what I was going to do afterwards, but my feet had scarcely touched the floor before I felt a strong pair of hands wrap around my arms and twist them cruelly behind my back. All I was really capable of doing then was writhing in the grasp and pathetically gasping, "Ouch! That HURTS!"
My captor paid no mind, but gave a cold, heartless little laugh at my expense. He wrestled briefly with me, swaying from side to side as I jerked back and forth, and then brought me closer to his own body, sliding an arm around my neck. "Quit it," he growled, irritated now.
I froze. That voice... Briefly, I was able to turn my head and land eyes on the man, my wide-eyed gaze met by the expressionless face of none other than Vicious. He didn't smile or smirk or even frown. His lips were a straight line that spoke of nothing, but I could feel my own mouth trembling and my eyes filling with tears because he was going to kill me and Shin. I just knew it. He was REALLY going to kill me.
Vicious.
"Vicious..."
He didn't hear me as I sagged a little against him and gave up because this was the end. Who was I kidding? Vicious was the one who killed Spike - he forced Julia to stay with him when she wanted to leave. Benjamin - the name Vicious had called himself - was just an illusion now. I could scarcely remember him... Had he been someone else?
Shin tried to stumble to his feet, staggering a little as blood dripped from all his reopened wounds. "Don't," he hissed, chest heaving for breath, "touch her! LET HER GO!"
Vicious nodded at the two men again and one cracked Shin smartly over the head with the butt of his gun.
"VICIOUS!" Shin screamed, like it was some sort of swear word. "VICIOUS!" And he dropped to his knees and received a swift kick to the gut and then another blow to the head. He rolled onto the floor and lay still, bruised and bleeding from his scarlet lips.
"Stop it!" I shouted, and then, begging, "Please! You're hurting him! You're HURTING him!"
Looking back later, I found myself thinking, 'what kind of stupid comment is that?' That was fully their intention, to hurt Shin. They wanted him to suffer.
I was about to babble some more idiocy when Vicious turned me around and slapped the back of his hand smartly across my face, the sound of his palm colliding with my cheek ringing in my ears so that I began to sob afterwards.
And that's really not like me.
And then Vicious pushed me down to my knees and he placed his hands on my shoulders and he told me, "Watch, Miss Valentine. See what happens to people who betray me? Just like Spike and Julia..."
I watched as Shin was beat long after he passed out and then they picked up his shattered form and carried the barely breathing man from the room, leaving streaks of blood on the wall and floor. Vicious didn't stick around long after, and neither did I. He called in another man and pushed me towards him.
"Take her back," he said flippantly, cold eyes following as I was numbly escorted from the room.
~~~~~
The syndicate was just an old building, but it was beautifully furnished - like real offices. The symbol of a red dragon was emblazoned on the wooden floor, absolutely artistic. Everyone strolling about had well-tailored uniforms - black with trim of gold. Vicious was cruel, he was unfeeling, and he clearly understood I loved him and therefore enjoyed torturing me - but he really could pull an organization together in no time flat.
My guard passed me off to a woman, some secretary, it looked like, and she was a bit more kind - though that's not saying much. She took my arm, seeing as how I was badly shaken up, and led me to a 'holding room'. It was really plain with just a cot and a window, but it was nicer than where Shin probably was. "Someone will be in to see you shortly," she said with a frown, closing the door.
I heard a lock click almost immediately afterwards.
~~~~~
Two hours later, enter the bulldozer. I call him the bulldozer because he is a massive, massive man with broad shoulders and muscular limbs and a head of thick, jet black hair that was pushed back by a headband decorated with none other than - you guessed it - a red dragon. While scary in appearance, if you simply look at his face, he is not ugly, almost handsome, really, but his features are too hard and too large and his lips are much too thin and his eyes are simply dull. Blue, I think, but not a pretty blue.
However, unlike most people here, he does smile. And he's a doctor. A man that large should NOT be a doctor! He should be...something that does not involve precision and needles and people's lives.
"My name is Desma," he said easily. "Vicious sent me."
"Vicious sent you?" I repeated dumbly.
"Yes. He's concerned about your leg."
Angry, I snapped, "I didn't know Vicious was concerned about anything."
"He's not, usually."
Desma was unusually good at taking care of the wound, which surprised me, but I suppose syndicates need good doctors with all the gun fights that go on. Then, much to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to go with him to see Shin, who hadn't been looked at yet.
I told him I'd like to go, and after the display earlier, I had not realized Shin was meant to heal.
"He's just being punished," Desma said simply, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Vicious is going to offer him another job and if he doesn't take it, then we'll see how well he fares."
We came to Shin's room and entered, and man, did I ever want to throw up. Shin was a bloody mess of a man. Stretched out across a simple cot in a room surprisingly like the one given to me, he had stripped of all his torn bandages and left the wounds open, bleeding, raw. His left eye was encased in a circle of soft, purpled flesh, and scrapes and bruises littered the rest of his body. Slowly, one green eye rolled over towards me and he bared a crooked grin, blood crusted at the corners of his mouth.
"Hey...Faye," he whispered, breath rattling in his throat. "You ok?"
"Yeah," I choked out. It was almost heart-breaking, his concern for my well being when he was so hurt. "How about you?"
"Ah...it hurts. I hope Jet got back ok..."
"I'm sure he did."
I sat and held his hand as Desma began to poke and prod at his wounds. Every now and then his fingers curled around mine so tight I thought they'd fall off, but he always released me soon afterward with a gigantic sigh. The stitching was the worst by far, for Desma gave him no warning and nothing to ease the pain, just plunged on ahead and scolded him for jumping in surprise.
"Vicious...came by..." Shin grunted through a clenched jaw, gripping my hand tight in his as he squinted up at the ceiling. "Didn't say much... Did he...talk to you?"
"No," I said, rather thankful for that. I didn't really want to see him after what he'd done. The reality of facing that the man I'd been in love with had not even died, but disappeared all together within another, was a very hard thing to accept.
Shin passed out shortly after and I remained on the edge of his bed, gently smoothing my fingers over his damp hair, watching the pain melt away from his expression. I would've stayed there until he had awoken again had Desma not forced me to leave.
~~~~~
I eventually bored myself to sleep in the little holding room, staring out the window and wistfully hoping that maybe the ghost of Spike would come and set me free.
Hey, nine hours alone in a tiny room can drive you nuts.
I snuggled under the single sheet on the stiff mattress and looked one last time out at the dark, star-littered sky, sighing. Vicious, back when he called himself Benjamin, had a million corny phrases about stars in the skies. It was like he wanted to be a poet, but just didn't have the right flare for it.
"Look," he would say, while I lay in bed, pretending to be asleep. "The stars are so bright tonight! Like lanterns to guide the lonely, don't you think?"
Granted, the line did sound nice with his voice. Very low, rumbling, oddly comforting.
I always was in bed while he stood at the window, gazing out and smiling to himself over the beauty he found everywhere around him in the world. And then he would turn, grin in my direction, and say, "Don't you like the star's? Their the poor man's diamond, it seems to me."
"Hmph," I had grumbled.
He came over and crawled into the bed, inquiring, "Still sick?"
"Very."
"Oh." He laid down beside me, on top of the covers whereas I was under, and slung an arm carefully around my waist, his head on the pillow behind mine so that his breath stirred my hair. "Night then."
"Good night, Vicious...."
I opened my eyes, back in that annoyingly small holding room, snuggled down in that horrible bed. Drowsily, I contemplated what was going on inside my heart and why I had wasted so much time and worried way too much.
My heavy eyelids fell shut again as a little sigh slipped from my mouth - dreams didn't come easy now. But I still tried to envision those nights where I'd felt secure and loved and hadn't even realized it. I tried to let myself slide down into that memory and recall the sounds of Vicious moving restlessly through the room, murmuring to himself and sometimes to me.
"Miss Valentine?"
I flew up in the bed, startled at the voice. The secretary from before, still in uniform, was standing in my doorway with that officious look of hers. With one long forefinger, she pushed the glasses higher up on her nose and narrowed her eyes at me. "Vicious has requested your presence."
Great. Things were going from bad to just intolerable. It couldn't get much worse.
"In his bedroom," she added.
Then again, maybe it could.
~~~~~
Review! I would thank everyone individually here, but I fell off a horse today and sprained my wrist, so it hurts too much to type unless I do it one-handed, and that takes a while! I really do appreciate EVERY review I got though - except for that one flame, and that's only because it was just plain pointless and obviously born from a mind of low intelligence... If you're going to flame me, at least tell me WHY - and don't be a coward about it. Leave a name.
Yes, I'm still fuming.
Ouch - my wrist kills!
Review!