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[rising-defiance-au]

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[defire]

Dance of Death Chapter 16

You Lost Him

Content: Environmental whump, police chase, threats, fear of violence, fighting, magical sleep

Nife focused her mind on climbing, smoothly like a rhythm of four. She was still pretty sure they wouldn't shoot a Raizden. Finally reaching a rooftop, she ran across it southward and made a little leap across the alley to the next.

"That's not fair..." Someone said below her.

"Neither are your numbers." She muttered, keeping focused on her feet pounding across the slate rooftop. 

She could hear them whistling to their companions as she ran on. The sound made her stomach squirm in a way it never had before. The danger was more than immediate this time, and she could feel her steps deciding her future at each bound. 

Her breaths came faster and harder as she ran toward the Octagon again, leaping like a ninja across the rooftops. Little jumps led her to one slate-tiled roof after another, and then she would hightail it across the crown of the roof. However, the buildings all around her were all too tall or short to jump to.

She needed to climb, and fast.

She'd need to get up to 20th street if she didn't want the enforcers to catch up with her. She jumped onto a five-inch building strut, slapped a hand on it to slow her momentum, and dropped lightly down into an alley. Her bare feet actually quieted her landing, ripped up harem pants fluttering back down around her ankles as she rose from the crouch. She heard another group of enforcers coming from the opposite direction, so she took the first door she saw.

She closed herself in the dark, humid stairwell of a very tilted apartment building at the edge of the Crenton neighborhood she'd run over. It felt abandoned.

She crept up halls and climbed across stairways. It was so quiet, and as she went down into the darkness, she could smell the rot increasing at every level. Black lines of it crept up the plaster walls.

She pushed at the door of every apartment as she passed them on the way down the stairs, hoping to find something she could use, or at least a good hiding place. So far, none of them were budging, and she had no doubt that the enforcers had seen her go into the building.

Finally, a door popped loudly at the first kick, and then on a second kick to the upper hinge, tilted open into the apartment. 

"Yes..." She whispered, climbing inside the sloping room.

Everything in the living room had slid down into the bottom corner, including a massive, rotting couch covered in other debris. She trod carefully across it with her bare feet. In the kitchen, she reached up to a vertically-oriented silverware drawer and pulled it open. 

“No blazing steak knives.” She bit her lip and thought, then slammed the drawer shut. “Fine.”

A shout outside made her jump.

“Surround the building! Unit 3, storm!”

Nife cursed, climbing onto the counter to look out the window. She didn't see anyone out there, but she heard enforcers on streets above and below her location. She launched herself up and out onto the wall, scrambling hastily upward on the forty-five-degree slope. The building leaned onto the charred condo underneath it. She ran up it as fast as she could, occasionally catching herself on the surface so that she didn't stumble and fall backward, which would definitely mean death. She must've cut a ragged figure, in a dirty tunic and harem pants with one of the legs busted at the bottom seam. 

She forced herself to breathe fast to compensate for the exhaustion caused by the steep incline, focusing her attention on the bricks racing along under her fingertips, outstretched to catch herself if she tripped.

Don’t think about them coming for you. She ordered herself. You’ll be fine.

That always worked when she thought about stressful situations, but in this case, her blissful denial was broken by a shout. 

"Come awn! That's the girl I saw rawnning last night!" 

Nife recognized Acorn's voice almost immediately.

"Stawp!" He said. "Nife Raizden, stawp!"

Nife straightened up a little and ran up the slope, bare toes gripping into the gaps between the bricks.

"Nife, ya'll only make it worse if you rawn!" Acorn shouted. "I'm warning you!"

"Not if I don't get caught," She muttered, then she leapt over the top corner of the building, catching hold of the short parapet to keep from flying way over the other side, and dropped onto the tilted wall of a maintenance shack. Her weight was too much for it, and her heart dropped into her stomach as she realized it was ready to fall off into the miasma. 

Meanwhile behind her there was an alarming number of enforcers gathering. She clenched her teeth, looking down and edging closer to the roof of the tilted building, heart beating out of her chest.

"Oh horizons..." She whispered. "I'm going to have to jump."

Nife leapt down toward the opposite end of the roof, sliding into an uncontrolled fall down it. She gasped; her fingers scraped painfully against the rock as she tried to find hold before she fell away from the building. Her feet hit the opposite parapet and busted right through.

Shit.

Her fingers caught harshly onto the edge just in time, burning and scraping half a nail back. She swung inward toward the shady underside of the apartments, and let go. She pulled herself into a roll as she landed. Finally she was able to catch her breath for a moment there on the ground, puffing and wiping sweat off her face. She slowly got to her knees and then stood up.

She stared up at the brick wall that leaned over her ominously, reminded of the pillar that had practically breathed on her skull that other time, and closed her eyes for a moment.

"It's not fun anymore," She whispered.

And if she let them catch her now, they'd be pissed off at how much trouble she'd caused, and they'd probably treat her horribly. She clenched her fists at her sides, reminding herself that they hadn’t taken any fingers–not yet.

"And while you're stewing in your regret, they're catching up to you." She snapped herself out of it and got up to her feet, realizing she was aching in several places, especially her burning fingertips. She groaned and hobbled to the edge of the roof.

"Oh… great."

All down the street below her, enforcers were gathered, probably just waiting for their climbers to reach her. 

"Nife, surrender." An enforcer called up to her. "You're surrounded."

"Somebody please help this man," Nife called back down to him. "He seems to be unaware of the third dimension."

She could see them crowded around on the pathways below, shading their eyes up at her, as another woosh of wind lifting her hair off her forehead magnificently.

"So how much are we allowed to do when we catch her?" She overheard one of them ask.

"Just don't kill her." Was the captain's response.

Nife's eyes widened as she glanced down at them. 

"Wait, what?" She muttered, then yelled down, "Hey, man... isn't that a little extreme?"

"Then surrender." The voice came back. "I can't guarantee what will happen to you if you anger my men."

"Honestly, that's not very motivating." Nife said.

She looked around, noticing that several enforcers were making their way up the nearby buildings, probably planning on crossing over to her roof.

Nife clenched her teeth and slumped down against the parapet, thinking hard. She was starting to panic, and she was so sweaty that her feet and hands were slippery.

Then she looked across the building and noticed several Druids in enforcer uniforms making their way toward her, stepping over the vents and chimneys. One of them had a crossbow, and the other two carried small pouches in each hand. They were moving methodically and seemed to have no concerns about Nife's escape.

"Put your hands up and get dawn on your knees." One of them said. 

It was Acorn.

Nife scrambled to her feet with the help of the parapet at her back. Leverage–she had leverage on him.

"Acorn?" She called across the roof to him. He glanced at his companions, then back at her. "Hey Acorn, remember last Sunday night?"

Acorn scowled at her and started coming faster.

"I don't know what you're tawking about," He said.

"Oh, I think you do," She teased, picking up a rock, never taking her eyes off them.

The two enforcers behind Acorn slowed down, looking at him slightly doubtfully. 

Acorn stopped, setting down his crossbow and raising his hands. 

"Pawrley?" He said. "Just step away from the edge. I don't want you to fawll."

"You sound like a sun-blessed Bane," Nife mocked. "You're just afraid I'll climb down."

His face twitched toward disgust when she said "Bane", but he was clearly trying to hide it from the other two Druids, so he shrugged hard.

"I'm nawt a Bane." He said, still walking forward with his hands up. "Just let me tawk to you."

The other two enforcers were hanging back a little as if to give him the opportunity.

"Why?" Nife said, glancing over her shoulder at the side of the building she'd just come from. She grimaced at the thought of climbing all the way down just to end up in the hands of the enforcers down there.

"There's a better way to do this." Acorn said more quietly.

"To do what?" Nife said, also lowering her voice. "Are we just going to pretend the whole Wick thing was just an accident? How about you let me go... Maybe I won't talk about it. Maybe I'm sympathetic to your cause."

As he got closer, she could see genuine panic on his face as he held out his hands pacifyingly.

"Look arawnd you. You're completely surrawnded. You're going to be captured." He said. "The question is how you'll be treated on your way back to the station."

"The real question is how you'll convince me not to tawk." Nife said with a mocking sneer.

She could tell he was putting a lot of effort into trying not to talk that way, so she assumed the jab would cut deep. However, Acorn only sighed and tilted his head at her with disappointment, like he was judging her for the tasteless ridicule.

"Here's how Awl convince you," He said. "I won't let them beat you awp. Awl protect you."

"Oh, that's so sweet of you." Nife said, thinking up another insult that would offend a Druid. "You're an especially considerate traitor, aren't you--"

She broke off as Acorn's face twisted into a snarl and he lunged at her. She dodged to the side, then threw a rock at his face. The stone conked into his nose and he cursed as he turned toward her, rage making his features twist.

"You're gonna pay for that," He growled. 

Nife crouched as he got close, and kicked up toward his face, but with a jerking movement, he dodged, keeping his eyes on her as she quickly retreated before he could grab her. As she fought him and he continued using oddly forceful dodges every time she got close, she realized that the suit he was wearing was pulling him in the direction he needed to go. She'd heard that the enforcers had been given enchanted uniforms, but she'd never seen it in action. It was unfair.

Circling back desperately, she heard a shout behind her.

"Should I?"

"Do it!" Acorn said, and something was lobbed to Nife's right, which she dodged. A heavy pouch landed on the roof beside her. The enforcers budget must be pretty wretched if they had to fight with bags of rocks now.

She smirked as she lunged toward Acorn, who had quickly leapt several strides away.

That was when she felt the pulse of magic emitted from the bag on impact. Too late.

She found herself looking into Kit's eyes.

Suddenly an overpowering tiredness filled her, and she sank to her knees, and then fell forward on her face, asleep.

Was she dreaming? She didn't want to wake up, if so.

The way he turned that smile to her, the one with a feeling of certainty and warmth. 

That day, he'd looked up from where he'd been bent over the table for half an hour, working on drafting a new law. 

She noticed his bruised arm, and some discoloration by his mouth. About to remark on it, she looked him in the eyes, only to see a concerned expression on his face.

"Hey..." He said. "You okay? You look exhausted."

Nife was about to respond when she realized she was seeing Warren now. 

That was a good day. 

Exhausted after several bouts of sparring, he'd flashed her a grin and poked her in the arm on the way by.

She'd told him to watch it because she was in predator mode and he'd laughed so hard, you'd think she'd said something clever. He laughed till there were tears in his eyes.

Nife lived for these moments. 

"I just want to make you guys laugh." She said.

When she spoke, both of them did a double-take and looked at her with concern written on their faces.

Nife looked at herself in the dream and realized she was bound. Her hands, her feet, and she was on her knees as a man with a crowbar walked around her, deciding which body part to break first.

She'd been so focused on the others that she hadn't checked her own condition, and now she was trapped.

Their concern turned to panic, and she could hear her own breaths hyperventilating as she began to struggle, somehow only managing to pull the ropes painfully tight.

The crowbar smashed into the back of her skull and she woke up.

First chapter: Next chapter:

Taglist: @tildeathiwillwrite @mimostic @fleur-a-whump @a-n-j-a-maria

Per Tumblr's content policy, this is the non-nsfw version of Dance of Death.

For anyone following along on this story that wants the canon NSFW version of the story, you can get it on amazon for $0.99.

If you like this book, it would mean so much to me if you leave a review of Dance of Death on Amazon.

[mrmonster459]

The Berserker

He and I were locked in combat, eyes staring at each other like two wolves fighting for dominance of the pack. He threw a round kick at me, hoping it would land and knock me down, but I stepped backwards in time to evade it. I then threw two punches at him, a jab and a cross. He raised his arms to block both, but I was expecting that. I then threw another jab, which once again caused him to raise his arms to block, but I then quickly used the momentum from my punch to turn all the way into a spinning side kick, one that landed right in the center of his stomach. The impact folded him like a cheap beach chair.

About two seconds later, the bell rang, and our sensei shouted “TIME!” The match was over, and even though there were officially no winners and losers in classroom free sparring, it was clear that I had come out on top in the match.

“Sparring gear, off!” Our sensei ordered.

As we went to the dojo’s shelves to put away our protective gear, my opponent, Patrick, came up to me and said “Wow, you’ve got one Hell of a turning side kick?”

“Thank you.” I said. “That’s my signature combo, the jab-cross followed up by a jab-turning side kick. No one ever sees it coming.”

“Is that so?” He asked. “You know, do you wanna get a drink sometime? First rounds on me.”

I said “You know, that sounds great.”

_____

The next day we went to a local bar to get a beer. Patrick was a fairly new student at our school, but one who’d already gotten a black belt at a different location, so he was placed immediately in the advanced class.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what got you into taekwondo?” He asked.

“Just needed something to keep me in shape after the Army.” I answered. “To be honest, my life lost a lot of purpose after I left. I went from doing something that felt fulfilling, to sitting at a desk processing Amazon orders. But the dojo helped me regain that warrior spirit, you know?”

“Oh, I fully understand.” Patrick said. “You’re very good, it’s no wonder they made you the assistant instructor.”

“Thank you.” I said as I took another sip of beer.

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Patrick said, and it was the start of a long conversation.

_____

I didn’t think much of our conversation at the bar, just figured I’d made a new friend. But a few nights later, while I was fast asleep, I heard Patrick say “Good morning.” as I found him staring at me over my bed, fully dressed in a business suit. Beside him were two men in thick padded armor, each having weapons strapped to their utility belt.

Of course, I tried to fight back. I punched one and kicked the other, but against their armor, my strikes just bounced off. They quickly overpowered and subdued me. They gagged me, hooded me, cuffed me, then stuck a syringe in my arm that made me feel very tired all of a sudden. They then dragged me to my garage, where I was loaded into the back of a van they had parked there.

“Don’t worry, we’ll explain later.” Patrick said as I drifted off to sleep.

______

When the hood and gag were taken off, I was in some sort of gym. Patrick was standing there, still in his suit.

“Good morning.” He said.

I then grabbed him by his shirt collar and said “Dude, you have about two seconds to tell me where I am before I…”

“Ugh ugh, I wouldn’t be so feisty if I were you.” He said as he pointed to one of the windows in the gym. Behind it were four guards, dressed the same as the armed, armored thugs who kidnapped me. “They’re under orders to control you nonlethally, but they’re free to make things very painful for you.”

I let go of him.

“But, since it is important you know, the truth is that I’m not who I say I am. You see, I’m a bit of a talent scout for my boss. I won’t give you his name, but we normally refer to him simply as The Berserker, I suggest the two of us do the same. The Berserker is a very, very wealthy man with a very, very particular hobby.”

“What hobby?” I asked.

“Fighting, to the death.” He answered. “He gave boxing and MMA a try in his younger years, and even made amateur leagues in both, but having to stop at knockout just never satisfied him. So, he has scouts such as myself, who find gifted fighters & martial artists like you, drawn from gyms and dojos all over the country. We bring them here, and hope to give him a real challenge.”

“Here, if you’ll turn your attention to the monitor, you’ll see what you’re up against.”

He used a remote to play a video on a TV in a corner of the gym. A video showed two men stepping into the ring. One was wearing nothing but athletic shorts, and a dark mask that concealed his face. The other wore only sweatpants & boxing gloves.

“The one in the mask is The Berserker.” He explained. “The man you see him up against, was a two time Golden Gloves boxer.”

The boxer began throwing punches, but nothing landed. The Berserker moved with the speed and finesse of a cat, never staying in one spot for more than a moment or two. After the boxer began wearing himself out, The Berserker threw a roundhouse kick that took out his leg, forcing the boxer to then start hobbling in pain as he tried to continue the fight.

The Berserker then dashed behind him and threw another round kick, this one that landed right at the base of his spine. The boxer’s scream of pain was nothing short of blood curdling.

The Berserker then wrapped his arm around his neck, and put him in stranglehold, and did not stop until the boxer finally just lost life.

“This can’t be real.” I said. “There’s no way you can actually get away with this.”

“That’s why we’re careful.” Patrick continued. “That’s why we have scouts all over the country. His last fight was against a college wrestler we picked up at a college campus in Mississippi. Before then, a Brazilian jiu-jitsu prodigy from a gym in Idaho. I can go on, but I think you get the point.”

“He’s won all of his past 118 fights.” Patrick explained. “And in three days, you will most likely be his 119th.”

“Between now and then, you have free reign of this gym, and the living quarters in the room behind that door. If you want food, any food, our 24 hour kitchen staff can whip up anything you want. The Berserker wants you to be fully prepared for your duel.”

_______

I ordered lobster tail just to see if Patrick was serious. To my shock, it was delivered to the gym in about twenty minutes. It even came with a glass of white wine (that I hadn’t even asked for), along with a note signed by the chef that read “I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror if I served this lobster tail without this perfect wine pairing.” Patrick wasn’t kidding when he said they’d bring me whatever food I wanted, although it felt less of a kindness and more of them just trying to fatten up the pig they were about to slaughter. I wouldn’t be much of a show for the crowd if I was weak when I entered the cage.

But I intended to be at full strength during my fight. I knew I was playing into what they wanted, but I also didn’t care. If I was gonna die, I was going to die fighting. So I spent those three days working out just hard enough to not injure myself. I would pound the heavy bags, lift weights, and run on the treadmill for as much as I could take, for hours on end, for all three of my training days. It was all I had to do; the only things I could get to play on the gym’s TV were exercise videos. I didn’t have any books, any magazines, and the only people I had to talk to were the guards (and to put it mildly, they weren’t very conversational).

By the end of it, I was in the best shape of my life. Even when I was in the Army, I was never in such great shape. I felt ready to take on the world. But was I ready to take on him?

_______

“Are you ready?” Patrick asked me, as it was time to step out and faced why lay ahead of me.

“Yeah.” I said, coldly.

“I do hope you know that this isn’t personal. If anything I kind of liked you. But we all have a place in this world, I’m sure an ex soldier of all people understands that.”

I wanted to kill him right then and there, for having the gall to compare his crimes to my service. But there were two guards hovering over me, both with their palms resting on the handles of his firearms, ready to draw & fire the moment I stepped out of line. So I held my anger, and walked to the arena like a man.

“Ladies and gentlemen” a disembodied voice boomed over the intercoms, as the crowd went wild. I have no idea how or why The Berserker got an audience for these fights, or what kind of sociopath would actually pay to be there, but whatever the reason, the stands had dozens of people there to see me die.

I stepped into the ring, and the announcer said “Today’s challenger stands 6’3, weighing in at 185 pounds. He has eleven years of taekwondo under his belt, but will that be enough? He’s about to find out.”

And then, The Berserker entered the ring. He was at least two inches taller and much more jacked than I ever was, I could tell that this alone was gonna make it a difficult fight.

“On three!” The announcer shouted. “1…2…3!”

The Berserker then came at me with a flying round kick that would have shattered my rib cage if it had landed. Thankfully, I evaded just in time, and his foot flew through the air.

But before I could even counter, he continued the turn and threw a spinning elbow strike that landed right on the side of my face. I then spit out one of my own teeth.

He followed up a flurry of punches, but I stepped backwards to keep his fists away from me, until I felt the cold metal of the cage.

He thought he had me cornered and helpless, and he went on the offensive, hoping to land a knockout punch. This was a mistake; as he came charging in, I lifted my front leg and shot a lightning fast sidekick directly to his liver.

He stumbled backwards in pain & shock. For the first time in the fight, I had a moment of advantage, and I didn’t intend to waste it. I followed up with a spinning wheel kick that made his jawline meet my heel.

Before he could recover, I threw a body punch that landed right in his stomach. I then tried to throw another, but he blocked it in time. And then, before I could throw anything else, he stepped in close, grabbed my arm, and threw me to the ground, judo style.

He then began making it rain hammerfists all over me. I tried to cover myself as best as I could, but he was constantly moving over me, finding new spots to slam his hands into.

If I didn’t stop this, I’d be a goner. So I crawled out from underneath him, and then used bicycle kicks to create some distance. Once I put a few feet between us, I hopped back on my feet.

I then went on the offensive. I stepped forward and threw a punch, but he stepped back. This gave me an idea; my signature combo had never failed me before, why wouldn’t it help me now?

I threw two punches at him, a rapid jab-cross combo. He raised his hands to block, and stepped back. After resetting, I threw another jab; he once again put his hands up to his face to block, but this time, I twisted my hips, and nailed him right in his exposed, unprotected stomach.

He collapsed in pain, and spat out a mouthful of blood. Back in the dojo, my kicks were usually softened by foot pads, chest protectors, and my inclination to not hurt my friends. But in this arena, none of those things were there to stop my sidekick from devastating him. All I had to do was decide how to finish him off, and I figured stomping on his neck would be a

I had never killed anyone before, not even during my time in the Army. I wasn’t sure if I could even follow through with it; but I won’t lie, I enjoyed the feeling of crushing his windpipe a lot more than I thought I would. Watching him try to breathe only to suffocate was the icing on the cake.

______

After the fight, the guards escorted me out.

“PATRICK!” I shouted as my former opponent’s lackey came out.

“Yes, sir.” He said.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t do to you what I just did to your boss.” I said.

“Sir, please calm down.” Patrick said.

“I could’ve died in there. I…”

“Sir, please, sit.” Patrick said.

I took a deep breath, and then took a seat. I decided to at least hear him out before killing him.

“Don’t lie, I saw the look on your face. You enjoyed the feeling of taking the life out of him, didn’t you?”

I did not care about Patrick enough to bother lying to him. “Yes, I did.” I answered, bluntly.

“Sir, these fights make more money than you’ve ever dreamed of. Tickets to be in the audience cost $50,000 each. Our dark web live streams cost $2,000 per view.”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Completely. The only other places on Earth that provide an experience even close to this are in third world shitholes where you’d take him a deadly disease as a souvenir. For those wanting a bit of luxury with their show of blood, this is truly a one of a kind experience.”

“And our headliner, the one they all come to see, is now dead. Do you get what I’m saying?”

_____

A month later…

“Are you ready, sir?” Patrick asked me.

“100%.” I said as I finished my stretch kicks.

Patrick then turned to a guard and said “Let the announcer know it’s time to open the fight.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please introduce our returning champion!” the announcer boomed as I entered the ring.

“And in this corner, we have the challenger. A Muay Thai fighter, handpicked from one of the toughest gyms in Louisiana.”

It was time to start my first real day at my new job.

[hyena-woodie]

I finally, finally have this thing finished. I am so happy. The prologue and the first chapter are already online and I hope to be updating this twice a week.

It's an action/adventure story where I throw Ace out of a plane into the woods, with no help, she has to find her way and wants to find out who has done this to her (this isn't me btw, I mean I did it, but I didn't, not in the story). Features a few of my OC's, mainly introducing Andrea Shaw in this one.

Hope you like it.

PS. cover was made by me.

[emlinden]

A mysterious vigilante pursues a murderer through crowded city streets. Will the criminal be brought to justice? Find out in today's new flashfic, Justice-Bringer! Check it out through the link above.

[sephiroth-balls]

my first book called humanity and retribution: paint it all red. is out and finished

sequel is coming soon and is a fat wip

[elk96]

~THINGS GO SOUTH IN THE SOUTHEAST~ Part Two

Part One: https://www.tumblr.com/elk96/711486597855641600/things-go-south-in-the-southeast-part-one

Characters: Robert Fischer, Maurice Fischer, Uncle Peter (Inception), OCs

Warnings: angst, violence, mentions of death, abduction, mentions of terrorism? Racial stereotypes, English is not my first language, and everything mentioned/ narrated is pure fiction, not an indication or a statement towards a particular race, religion and so on.

"Handcuff him, blindfold him and get rid of that phone", the driver growled. "I don't trust him.

"It's really not necessary", Robert murmured before his phone was destroyed and hands tied behind his back. Just seconds later, a sack fell over his head, wrapping him in a foggy, dark world.

Hours later, or maybe days, -he was so fucking dizzy-, the car pulled over, and a welcome hint of fresh air fiund it's way to his lungs. Robert breathed deeply for the first time in hours, it seemed. A forceful hand pulled him out of the car, and it took two men to keep him standing up. Robert was certain he'd faint anytime soon, but the salty smell of the sea helped ever so slightly. He could even hear the waves fighting to get ahold of each other.

"Move", the man barked and pushed him forward. And yet, no matter how much he hated the shouting, Robert's feet refused to cooperate. He hit the ground violently scratching his knees and palms. The hands pulled him up and the scene was repeated over and over again, until the way to what Robert regarded to be a warehouse, came to an end. A heavy door opened smooththly and the man practically kicked Robert inside untill they crashed him onto a wall. They removed the blindfold and locked him up, leaving him alone, unable to move, or even think of anything. Robert felt numb, as he had always been throughout his life. Only this time, his hands were tied up, and his apartment had been replaced by a nasty, old warehouse.

They’d be looking for him by now. They’d have every public camera checked, every guard asked, the car tracked down. The still functioning part of his brain wondered what-if anything-had happened to Youssef. But most of all he was just thirsty and fucking cold.

A single stripe of sun shed some light to the enormous room. Steps echoed, but Robert was too tired to turn and greet the newcomer.

“Good morning Mr. Fishcer”, said lively a man as he approached him. British. A large one, judging by the shadow cast upon Robert.

I just wanna die, is that too much to ask?, he thought, having to change position. His breath stuck on his throat on seeing the man he’d met in the restrooms. Fucking bastard.

“Forgive us for the lack of hospitality Mr. Fischer, I had some things to attend to”.

Robert looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “What do you want”?

“First of all, I want you alive and functional Mr. Fischer-what’s your name again”?

Hmm, good question. What could his name be? Bernard? William? He looked like a William, didn’t he?

“I suppose you’re thirsty Mr. Fischer”, said the man handing him over a glass of water. It was then that Robert noticed a tray next to him, with bowls and even fruit on it.

He licked his dry lips, trying to hold up resistance a little while longer.

“I’m Freddy Cadwick by the way”, the man continued, extending a large, calloused hand. He exhaled sharply, and then took a pair of keys out of his pockets, to free Robert from his handcuffs.

“Thank you”, Robert murmured, regretting it the moment the word left his mouth. “You know that my name’s Robert, obviously. You knew which hotel I’d rented, so drop your hypocritical formalities! -But at least, you have some creativity when it comes to names, right”?

Freddy’s lips curled upwards slightly.

“Will you take the water before I spill it over your face, Mr, Fischer”?

Robert’s eyes trailed of to the orange on the tray, only to be showered on the cold insides of the glass.

“I’m not bluffing, Mr Fischer. I just wanted you to know that”, said Freddy, quiet tiredly. After some thinking, he took of his jacket and placed it carefully over Robert’s shoulders. Having decided not to fight against the man’s stubbornness, he gave him the bowl of rice and started peeling off the orange. Robert sneezed softly, grabbing the sleeves of the make-shift blanket and licking the juice that flowed down on his skin.

“I’m not a cat, whatever your damn name is”, he said plainly. “What do you expect? You feed me and give me a blanket and I come sit on your lap”?

“Weird cats you have in Sydney, eating oranges and spicy rice”, Freddy murmured, but his hand was to firmly hit Robert on the cheek.

“I’m a busy man, a trained man. Don’t make me prove this to you”.

“I ate all my food, what else do you want”?

“Why are you here?

“To talk to Imran Youssef. My father arranged my meeting him in that gathering”.

“Why”?

“To reinforce business relations”.

“Who sent you”?

“My loving father”.

“Why are you here”.

“To talk to Youssef”.

“Why”?

“To reinforce business relations”.

“Who sent you here”?

“My father, damnit”!

“Damn you Robert, I know someone put his hand on getting you here and I wanna know who it was”!

“Well, so do I! If you figure it out, come and tell me”!, Robert shouted, in a pathetic, broken voice.

“Alright, alright. Let’s start with the simple things. What’s his fucking name”?, Freddy asked shoving his hands in his pockets.

“D’ you think I’d give you credit for nothing? John Smith, one in a fucking million”!

“And he works for the CIA”?

“Probably”.

“And what does he want”?

“Get me killed, most of all”.

A rush of anger ran through Freddy’s face, the dark pupils covering almost entirely the rich brown around them. Robert flinched, but that was all he could do.

“I don’t know what he wants”, he spat.

“Yeah well, we’ll see about that”, his kidnapper went on to say, but he was interrupted by a phone call. “Yes. No he hasn't’t. Put Amir on the phone”.

Robert tried to gain some control over his breathing while Freddy was talking in Arabic with one of his men, apparently. “Bad news for you Mr.Fischer”, he turned to Robert. My boys will take care of you, until your memory improves. If you have anything interesting to tell me, do it now”.

Robert raised his eyebrows watching Freddy walk away. Darkness covered everything once again, and Robert found himself almost missing the rough voice of the stranger. Even more so, when a man walked towards him, full of muscle and wild enthusiasm. The sun had set long ago, but he could feel it.

The man made a comment in his mother tongue on seeing him, eyes wide, voice loud and almost happy. It scared him to bits, Robert, that eagerness to see him. The man sat on a chair he’d dragged in front of him, bouncing on his hands what seemed to be a rubber bat.

“Your name’s Robert, right? You’ll tell me what you know, Robert, and nothing will happen to you. Or I will break your bones”.

“I know nothing, everything happened so fast-I was just sent here, I’m not the boss”, Robert murmured anxiously but something inside of him told him to straighten up his damn posture. Pride’s hard to shed,even when you’re on your fucking knees.

“Well, I wanna know about the boss. Who is he, and why did he sent you here”.

“I don’t know”.

The man stood up, bringing the bat to Robert’s face gently enough not to hit him unconscious.All air was dragged from Robert's lungs, his vision going black for a moment. His head fell behind, as a buzzing sound exploded in his ears.The man sat back on the chair, allowing him to think if all the pain was worth it.

“Why did they send you here”?

“I don’t know”, Robert growled, the next hit on his ribs making him let out a voiceless scream.

“I don’t know”!, he said again, and kept repeating it even when he was completely blinded by the pain and the blood running over his eyes. He kept on whining and shivering all night, bruised and broken but at terms with his ugly fate.

The sound of the door opening left him indifferent. More pain, or death. Nothing he hadn’t known already.

“Good morning Mr. Fischer”, Freddy said, way too loudly for Robert’s smashed skull. He drugged the cursed chair out of his way and sat on the floor, leaving a disc once again by his side.

“How are you holding up Mr. Fischer”?

Robert was currently fighting to breathe through his broken nose, for his mouth was full of blood.

“So, tell me, why did they send you here Mr. Fischer”?, Freddy asked softly and the mere kindness in his tone made Robert break at the possibility of another hour of screams.

“To…to spy…Spy on him”, he whispered, trying to form a coherent thought. And a full sentence would be nice, but everything was black and loud, the air gripping his neck, suffocating him. “Youssef”.

“About what”?

Don’t tell him, don’t tell him, don’t tell him!, everything in his head was shouting. -But he’ll hit you again! -They’ll go to prison, they’ll be killed! He’s your father-but he doesn’t love you Robert. He doesn’t love you.

“I can’t…Can’t take it anymore”, he whined.

Freddy Cadwick rose to his feet, kneeled in front of Robert, touching his hand softly. His fingers were soon covered in Robert’s blood.

“Just tell me Robert, and you won’t have to hurt anymore”.

“They’re my family. My only family”.

“Who, the ones that send you to hell with an expensive ticket”?

“Aren’t you doing the same with a bat”?, Robert mouthed, his voice almost inaudible.

“Yes, but I’m the one here, ready to kill you”.

“I’m already in pain….I won’t be missed-but, but you need…the information…right”?

“Exactly”, Freddy exhaled in an attempt to get rid of that knot in his stomach. He’d gotten rid of that thing years ago, emotions.

Taking a cloth from his disc and damping in on some clean water, he whipped of the last blood stains off of Robert’s face, smoothing his hair back. The American didn’t resist, couldn’t resist, no matter how much he despised him.

“Too much loyalty gets you killed, Mr. Fischer. That’s what I have learned, after all those years in this job. We could make a deal”, Freddy said, tearing a long stripe of black tape with his teeth. He opened Robert’s button up, telling him to exhale before he stuck the stripe across his ribs. “This will help”, he said after three more stripes. “Have you moved at all since they threw you in this shithole”?

Robert pressed his lips in a straight, unforgiving line, and kept staring at the man’s face for a long moment. He’d grown up alone, distanced from everyone. Touch-starved and dead inside, his glassy blue eyes were piercing, almost threatening in a way. ‘Cause Freddy knew that he’d have to be honest with him if he wanted him on his side.

“If you think they’re ever gonna find you, you’re mistaken mate. Same goes for hoping your dad’s company is gonna come out of this clean.

“You consider yourself heartless”, Robert answered after a long pause, “but you’d be surprised by how much I do not care”. The harsh treatment had broken him, and then right away changed him, shredded him of any bit of emotional attachment he had left.

Funny, isn’t it? How people change, in the span of a night.

“You could work for us, Mr. Fischer. Double agent. Whisper to the CIA our lies, and tell us what he knows. Your heritage is conserved, your well-being, your very life… All back to normal’.

“Become a pawn in your games huh? Blackmailed for life and stuff”?

“Would you rather die in a rusty building and never be found”?

“You could throw me in the sea. I love the sea,-it wouldn’t be so bad as a last residence right”?

“So you do love something after all”.

Robert tilted his head back, hissing in pain. Pain. It flooded his head, rushed through every inch of his body, just the same as the cold water would embrace him: mercilessly.

“Just kill me already, will you”?, he whined, he begged.

“So it is true, what my mom used to say”, Freddy answered kneeling in front of him, searching in his eyes for a reason to punch him dead in place. “You will do as we agreed”, he said combing Robert’s hair with his fingers. “You should get some rest, big times are ahead. Come on Mr. Fischer”, he breathed, picking up the remains of what used to be a young man.

Quite roughly for Robert’s broken ribs, he dragged him all the way outside, where a black car was parked. Shoving him into the back seat, Freddy drove silently towards the sea coast. He pulled over and lowered the dark windows of the car to reveal an abandoned dock. The sea was glistening under the golden rays of the sun, bewitching them both. Tall buildings and palm trees were standing on the land against them, the trees leaning to the right over the force of the sea breeze.

“Life’s good, innit mate”?, Freddy asked, turning his head.

Robert was handing on the car’s door, taking in the fresh air, despite the pain.

“Depends. Are you going to kill me or not”?

“No. I’m gonna let the CIA put you in a cell and have their most excited employees violate your human rights”.

“Alright then. I’ve shaken hands with criminals before”, Robert sighed.

“The sea air knocked some sense back to you Mr. Fischer ''.

“Looks that way. Are we gonna stay here forever, the two of us”?

“Oh no. It’s time for the one ring to be found”.

“The what”?

“Don’t you billionaires have time for movies”?

“No. We usually get kidnapped in those”, Robert whispered, clutching his sides.

Freddy left out a breathy laugh. It was a pleasure, talking in English with people he could have somewhat of an understanding. But of course, that was not what he said to Amir when he called him.

“I’ll need you to lay down now Mr. Fischer”, he said after the last details were set. But he wasn’t treated with an answer, for Robert had fainted.

Trash took itself out, Freddy thought instinctively while covering Robert with a small blanket. He couldn’t risk people recognising the American while he was driving around Abu Dhabi. Maurice Fischer would have definitely sent men looking for him. Along with that CIA character, John Smith. He better make sure no-one followed him on his way to his hideout.

[jetra4ivor]

lol. I am living for the comments under the official trailer video.

[mikrofwno]

ACTION STORY: Η κρίση στα Ήμια μετά από 28 χρόνια

Το ACTION STORY έρχεται απόψε τα μεσάνυχτα ακριβώς αποκλειστικά στο ACTION 24. Απόψε στις 00:00 τα μεσάνυχτα, όπως και κάθε Δευτέρα την ίδια ώρα, το σύγχρονο ντοκιμαντέρ της late night ζώνης του ACTION 24, «ACTION STORY», έρχεται με ένα συγκλονιστικό επεισόδιο για τα 28 χρόνια που συμπληρώνονται φέτος μετά την κρίσιμη νύχτα στα Ίμια. Ελλάδα και Τουρκία έρχονται μια ανάσα από τον πόλεμο. Τρεις…

[gotstabbedbyapen]

It's always "Hades isn't bad or cruel, his deeds are just metaphors of the inevitable death" or "Hades kidnapping Persephone represent the premature death".

But when the argument "Zeus has numerous affairs and many children because he represent the fertile rain" is brought up, all nuance is suddenly out of the window and Zeus is just a womanizer who can't keep it in his pants.

[ruporas]

trigunned the hades or hadesed the trigun (id in alt)

[rising-defiance-au]

RISING DEFIANCE ┋ VOL 1 ┋ PAGE 34

HD IN FULLVIEW ▪︎ ALTERNATES BELOW

[mrmonster459]

Big Thunder Mountain Railroad: Chief Mankiller's Lost Treasure (Tales from the Magic Kingdom)

I’ll never forget that day: the day a strange man in an even stranger suit came up to me while I was at work.

“Good afternoon officer.” He greeted.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Well yes, I was thinking you could.” He said. “I heard you used to work on the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad.”

“Yeah, I did.” I said. “Now can I help you with a law enforcement matter?”

“No, you seem to have law enforcement around here covered.” He said.

“Then please be on your way.” I said.

“You sure?” He asked before tossing a gold nugget at my feet.

“Sir, if you are attempting to bribe…”

“Oh no, no bribes.” He said. “Just a gift. And there’s more where that came from if you meet me for a drink after your shift ends.”

_________

Not many people still talked about the Big Thunder Mountain.

The Big Thunder Mountain used to be the heart of our town’s economy. At one point, half the men here, including myself, worked up there. Given that I was a half-deaf veteran of the Civil War (and the losing side no less), mining was just about the best thing I could do for myself, and for a while, it was pretty good living. But overtime, the mine just stopped producing gold. About ten years ago, the final nail of the mine’s coffin was planted when a flash flood destroyed most of the track and killed a good portion of the miners. The owners simply decided to cut their losses and close the mine completely, and the whole town suffered as a result. Ten years later, and I’m one of the mine’s few workers in town who didn’t leave.

I wanted to just forget that part of my life; but still, I was too curious not to meet the fellow at the saloon.

When I saw him sitting at a table, drinking beer and smoking a pipe, I walked up to him and bluntly asked “What do you want?”

“My name’s Jonathan Cole.” He said. “And you’re Abraham Schneider, I take it.”

“Yes.” I answered. “Now, what do you want?”

“I believe there’s still treasure in the Big Thunder Mountain.” He said. “And I want you to help me find it.”

“What makes you so confident?” I asked.

“Oh, I have my sources.” He said. “Listen, help me find what I’m looking for, and I’ll give you rewards beyond what you’d ever make in this craphole of a town.”

He could tell I was hesitant.

“Look, it’s a completely victimless crime.” He continued. “The land owners have long abandoned the mine, they don’t even know what’s down there. And even if they did, they wouldn’t know where to look for it. You have literally nothing to lose and everything to gain. So, what’s it gonna be?”

_________

The next day, we left. I had a Deputy cover for me, and I went to join Jonathan at the entrance to the mine.

“Who’s all these folks?” I asked as I pointed to three men who were there to join us.

“Oh, they’re just here for protection.” He explained. “Never know what can happen in these old mines.”

“Very well.” I said. I also had a handgun concealed under my coat. “Do you have the map?”

He then handed me an old, faded, and crumbled up map. But still, I could tell exactly where their treasure was.

“Follow me.” I said as I lit a lantern.

______

Even though it had been years, I still remembered those catacombs by heart.

“Alright, here’s where the map is leading to.” I said, as we entered an empty, dead end chamber.

“You sure?” Cole asked.

“Positive.”

“Alrighty then.” Cole said before pulling a bottle out of his jacket.

“You really gonna get a drink right now?”

“Oh, this is no drink.” He said. “This here is nitroglycerin.”

“You serious?” I asked. “You telling me that you’ve been carrying nitroglycerin this entire time? You could’ve blown us sky high.”

“Calm down, I know what I’m doing.” He said. “Now everyone get out of this room, unless you wanna die.”

_______

He set the bottle down near one of the cave walls, and once everyone had cleared out, he pulled his gun and shot the bottle. It caused an explosion that revealed that one part of the cave wall was actually hiding something behind it.

“Gentlemen, we have our riches.” Cole said as he entered a room filled with Native American artifacts.

“Wait, I thought you said this had gold.”

“I said it had treasure.” He explained. “And it does. The lost treasure of Chief Mankiller, a Native American war chief who stashed his treasure in this mountain right before his last battle with settlers. And we get to split it four ways.”

“I’m sorry, four ways?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s the best part. We’re done with you.” Cole said before drawing his gun and firing at me.

_______

Thankfully, the bullet only grazed me. Another inch or so, and I’d have been a goner, but all I got in that cave was a flesh wound.

But still, I had to play dead. It was one versus four, there’s no way I could've won in a fair fight. Luckily, it only took them a minute or so to grab the treasure and be on their way.

Once they were gone, I knew I needed to make a plan. I couldn’t beat them all at once. But then, I remembered that just around the corner, there was something I could use.

I even checked the railroad tracks; they were all in good enough shape. And then, I found her, the train I used to operate back when the mine was open. There was even charcoal left behind in the engine.

“Perfect.” I said to myself as I pulled a match out of my coat and tossed it in the engine. From there, all I had to do was wait for her to start back up and ride her again.

________

I caught up to them just moments before they were going to exit the mountain.

At first, they were stunned; they heard the train coming, but were dumbfounded as to who was riding it or how it even got started at all.

I stopped the train right at the mouth of the cave. If they wanted to leave, they were gonna have to go through me, and I wasn’t gonna let them.

One of them fired at me. He missed and hit the side of the train. I returned fire and hit him right in the forehead.

Cole began running away while his friends opened fire. It would’ve been difficult to outshoot both at once with just a handgun, but then I remembered the shotgun I always kept hidden underneath the train car’s floor.

I then fired through a gap in the train's outer metal lining, and killed both of them.

Then, I turned to Cole. Only bad part about trains is that they can’t go backwards, so I had no choice but to pursue on foot.

I lost him when he turned a corner and went down one of a handful of tunnels. And then, from wherever he was hiding, he fired at me, and I was forced to take cover against one of the cave walls.

“Thanks for doing me a favor back there.” Cole said. “Now I don’t have to split the treasure four ways.”

He fired at me again, and this time, I saw the flash of his gun; I knew where he was hiding.

After he took his next shot, I immediately jumped out of cover, turned, and fired. Killed him with one shot.

_________

Turns out Cole was right; I did end up a rich man that day. All I had to do was ride a few days to Houston, find the right antiques broker, and then I never had to look back at the Big Thunder Mountain ever again.

[ministarfruit]

day 15: haunting ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[emlinden]

Zaria has devoted her life to fighting the darkness as a warrior of the light, and now she faces her greatest challenge yet as she and her companions push to banish the darkness from their world once and for all. Will she succeed? Find out in today's new flashfic, Against the Dark! Visit the link above to check it out.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i love the DLC man