AviouslyPTX
Love is Love. No matter what sex.
1x1 w/Apocalypse Alice
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Unexpected
- Thread starter AviouslyPTX
- Start date
Apocalypse Alice
Danny "Dorito" Devito
His gloves were dripping, but so was his forehead. Not one to allow himself discomfort for far too long, he casually wiped the sweat from his brow, leaving in its place a streak of blood. It didn't bother him. At this point, Thanh- or George, as he called himself, had only one task left. Take these small chunks of meat, and drop them off in front of a local butcher's shop. It was his own special recipe of mayhem. Kidnap two girls, kill one, keep one, until he got bored with the one he kept, then he'd kill that one too. They were all the same, too. Same age, same hair, same eyes. They all looked like Her. And She had to pay. His lips twitched for a moment, and his grip tightened around the cleaver he held in one hand. Don't think about Her. She wants you to get caught. You'll never get caught.
It took a moment or two for him to convince himself, but eventually, he did, and he rested his cleaver down on the counter, before pocketing a small lock of hair. It would go in the book, with the others. The chunks were slowly slid into a black garbage bag- Hefty brand. He whispered the commercial jingle under his breath as he heaved the bag over his suited shoulder and moved through the back of his hideout, which was located at the furthest eastern end of Brooklyn, in an old abandoned warehouse owned by his fathers' company. "Hefty, hefty hefty..." He swung the back door of his van open and tossed the bag inside, watching as it landed next to his prize. His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at her. He couldn't tell in the dim light whether or not she was still alive, or awake. He'd not touched her- he'd only bound her wrists and ankles, and gagged her mouth so she couldn't bite. "...wimpy, wimpy, wimpy."
The door slammed closed, and within a few seconds, he'd hoisted himself up into the driver's seat, humming yet another tune; this time the Oscar Meyer jingle. As they reached the highway, he casually began to speak to the girl- whether or not she was awake. "You see, that's the nature of consumerism." There was no accent; he'd lived in the US his entire life. "I can't, even while enjoying my hobbies, get the sound of product-pushing out of my head." He glanced into the rear view mirror and smiled. Had he not just thrown a bag of human bits into the trunk, it might have been a handsome smile.
It took a moment or two for him to convince himself, but eventually, he did, and he rested his cleaver down on the counter, before pocketing a small lock of hair. It would go in the book, with the others. The chunks were slowly slid into a black garbage bag- Hefty brand. He whispered the commercial jingle under his breath as he heaved the bag over his suited shoulder and moved through the back of his hideout, which was located at the furthest eastern end of Brooklyn, in an old abandoned warehouse owned by his fathers' company. "Hefty, hefty hefty..." He swung the back door of his van open and tossed the bag inside, watching as it landed next to his prize. His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at her. He couldn't tell in the dim light whether or not she was still alive, or awake. He'd not touched her- he'd only bound her wrists and ankles, and gagged her mouth so she couldn't bite. "...wimpy, wimpy, wimpy."
The door slammed closed, and within a few seconds, he'd hoisted himself up into the driver's seat, humming yet another tune; this time the Oscar Meyer jingle. As they reached the highway, he casually began to speak to the girl- whether or not she was awake. "You see, that's the nature of consumerism." There was no accent; he'd lived in the US his entire life. "I can't, even while enjoying my hobbies, get the sound of product-pushing out of my head." He glanced into the rear view mirror and smiled. Had he not just thrown a bag of human bits into the trunk, it might have been a handsome smile.
AviouslyPTX
Love is Love. No matter what sex.
- Appearance
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All she could make out in the blurry haze that was her vision at the time was the silhouette of a man. She could t make out any details because of the dimness of the light, but she could tell it was a man. It wasn't a very important detail given what she was going through, but she couldn't see correctly and needed either her contacts or her glasses. The instant she heard the bag being thrown in beside her, she winced, the smell of human remains overwhelming her senses. She scrunched up her nose and made it her objective to scoot as far away from the Hefty bag as she could. She heard the door close though she paid it no mind as she kept moving away as best she could.
She noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks and being absorbed by the fabric but that didn't cause her to make a sound. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing the emotional pain she was in. She jumped a bit when he began to speak, and only then did she realize they were moving. Sitting still, Skye watched him in the rear view mirror, narrowing her blue-green eyes as he spoke about consumerism. She said something along the lines of, "Go to hell," but her words were muffled because of the gag. Without another word-- or sound-- she tried her best to start untying the ropes binding get wrists, but soon realized there was no hope and gave up.
