Title: Two Drinks and a Murder
Author: Nameless Quill
Rating: R
Disclaimer: If they were mine I can assure you I wouldn't be a fan fiction writer staring blankly at a computer screen.
Note: This is slash and it is horror. Those words mean that there is homosexuality in this and a few scenes were people get hurt and blood goes flying. There are also people who want to do strange and queasy things to other people. If none of these makes your day, click on that back button.
Chapter Seven
She awoke to a music that pounded out a heartbeat that shuddered through her bones and rattled her teeth. It pushed past her and out into a night that had the taste of snow clinging to it like a fearful child unwilling to part with its mother. The air sparked a memory of her nose pressed against frozen glass, waiting with patience only a child could muster for that first snow fall of the season. Las Vegas rarely had the crisp scent of snow so her mind went into a brief pause trying to sort out what the hell was going on.
She tried to push herself up into a sitting position and found that the world wanted to pour out of her ear. She fell unceremoniously back onto a hard granite floor and stared abysmally at a painted-over window. The paint was black and from the lack of smell not recent. It landed her into a state of half-light, the kind that threw your eyes for a loop as they struggled with the decision of fading into night-vision or keeping up the techno-color of daytime. It meant for Catherine that she was slightly off of her game. Not good. There was hardly a chance for her to one-up her captor.
Catherine sighed and then gazed upward at a water-stained ceiling and decided that if she couldn't fight now, she could check herself over and prepare for the time when she could get that chance.
She winced and reached tenderly to feel along her hairline and hissed violently as her fingers brushed over a broken line of skin right along her temple; the reason for the merry-go-round experience every time she moved any part of her above shoulder level. Catherine pondered over the possibility of a concussion but shrugged it off; there wasn't anything she could do about it now. Her fingers dropped from the tear and slid over a patch of skin that felt raw and hot. A bruise. Well, she now found the reason why she was not at the crime scene but here in some twisted parody of a jail cell. How she got into these messes she would never know.
"Okay Catherine," She mumbled aloud, trying to act like this was one of those exercises that every Law Enforcement agent had to go through to learn how to deal with whatever came their way. "Let's get through this."
A rustle echoed from the blacked-out window and she jerked her head trying to spot whatever had made the sound but all she succeeded in doing was making the drums in her head beat louder and faster. "…Fuck!" She swore and gingerly returned her head to its makeshift cradle. The sound came again and then moved off like footsteps. If she had been more clear-headed or if the room held fewer echoes she could discern if the sound actually was footsteps and not her imagination playing cruel tricks on her.
"Come on Catherine." She tried again to get into a sitting position and sighed when the world only spun and didn't pull a tilt-a-whirl on her. It was an improvement and finally a better means to see where she had been placed. The room was silvered with hundreds of gray and black tones, the lighting issue was most likely from the window-factor but the scientist in her was unsure. There was too much light and the shadows were at too odd an angle to have it all be from one source. She scanned the room, her instincts helped by her CSI-filtered mind and soon she could make out her cell. It was small, not cramped, but just enough to bring on the edge of claustrophobia. The walls were smooth with thin cracks criss-crossing over it. The floor was granite, like she had thought when she had first woken. She lifted her gaze up to the ceiling and scowled when she noted the ceiling was riddled with dots that allowed slits of light to fall down onto her. She peered through those holes and wondered who was on the other side watching her. The light was golden and thick, not electric, but candlelight that faded from a rich gold to a pale white as it filtered down into the cell. If the light was candlelight then there had to be someone up there not only watching over the candles in case of fire but they also might just be watching her too.
The thought made a cold jab race down her spine and suddenly Catherine felt the walls of her prison creeping that much closer. She wrapped her arms around her middle and played back on her last memory. It was Sara, smiling at her over the head of Lindsey as the girl tackled Sara after winning a volleyball match against her friends. The brunette had a smile that touched something inside Catherine that made her remember why life was good.
To never see Lindsey or Sara again …? Catherine shook her head forcefully at that chilling prospect and ignored the stabs of pain that came from that jolt. She couldn't dwell on that macabre thought; she would lose hope if she remained on that thought. She couldn't lose hope.
The sound came again and with Catherine's new position and with her body slowly coming around she pinpointed it to be from above her and a small shower of dust supported that fact. She was right; there was someone up there looking down on her. She craned her neck back and stared straight up and felt that she met the gaze of …someone. Something shifted and then part of the pinpoints grew brighter, meaning someone had left their spot.
The chill came over her. Not only was she kidnapped but she was now some psycho's sick peep show. The concept sickened her and a wave of nausea not related to her head wound washed over her and she had to fight to prevent that loss of control. She might be someone's new doll to dress up but like hell would she ever give anyone the satisfaction that they had broken her. She would get through this. She would see Lindsey's face again and steal that second night with Sara. She would make it. But how?
Behind her the wall clanged and soon the golden candlelight flooded over her, striking her blind for a split second as her eyes struggled to adjust quickly.
"You are awake my Sunlight. Good."
Sunlight? What in the hell? If this was not a kidnapping she would laugh at the name but right now it only served to drive a cold stake further into her heart. She blinked furiously and fought to keep her face a blank slate, the same face she used while doing dances for sleaze-ball. She pushed herself away from the new opening in the wall but made note of which wall she was moving away from.
"You are already on the pathetic human media that rolls disease throughout this world." The speaker was male; she still couldn't see him because he was just a dark silhouette against the light. "You are no disease though my golden angel. You are the savior blessed to me by the God who condemned me." The man lifted an arm and reached in towards her and she shied from it. "Why do you fear me? I am the one you were sent to save."
"Who the hell are you?" She asked and regretted the words as soon as they fell from her lips.
"You do not know of me?" The man's voice was low and dangerous. "How can an Angel of the Lord not know of me?!" He took a step forward and she shuffled back only to find the cold wall pressing through the material of her shirt. Her captor took another step and then stopped and cooed softly. "Of course though, you are trapped in that mortal body that clouds your soul with sin. I must help you before you can help me. Sweet Angel, why did you not tell me?"
Catherine opened her mouth to retort but he continued and effectively cut her off.
"There is a reason for that too! See my Sunlight, you do not need to hold my hand, already your presence is allowing me to see the bigger light." He moved to her and cupped her face in his palms. His hands were huge and the image of him cracking her jaw flitted in her mind. "Sweet Angel, I will listen to your unspoken glory."
And here I was thinking I had seen it all Catherine struggled and it only made the hands close tighter over her jaw. "You're ...hurting me." The hands fell off in a flash and the guy walked backwards to the door, his head hung low, his eyes on his hands.
"No! To hurt you ...no, I will go punish myself Angel. Thank you for preventing me from Sinning."
The door closed behind him and casted her back into the gray nothing.
Author's Note: I am so sorry for the five months of not updating. My muse had gone on vacation and this story had dropped into a bottomless pit. Thankfully I found this on my computer and I've decided to continue. Remember feedback makes my little world go round.
Xanthe: I'm sorry for the long wait, I hoped this is worth that.
Agent Sparx: Thanks and I always told you I'd turn you to 'the dark side'
Love2readfanfic: Thanks for the review! have a kudos!
Jess: Cliffhangers bug me too
T: I'll try not to break Catherine