San Francisco, late Monday night (NFB)
Sep. 25th, 2006 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
demonbelthazorBelthazor prowled through the dark paths of the park. He could sense evil, even human evil, and now he followed the trail of what he believed was the man who had mugged Phoebe. There was more than one trail in the park, more than one criminal that lurked in the darkness, but this one was strong and he could sense Phoebe on him.
He found the man lingering in the shadows, waiting for another unfortunate victim to walk by, no doubt. But tonight, he would be the victim.
Bel shimmered in front of the mugger and grabbed him by his collar, slamming him up against a tree. The man's gun went off as he frantically pulled it from his pants, but the bullet passed harmlessly into the ground. Bel snarled and seized the man's wrist, squeezing until bones ground together and the mugger dropped the gun with a sharp cry of pain. Bel had been shot before and wasn't afraid of being shot again, but it would be troublesome to explain another bullet wound to the clinic, so he kicked the gun safely away.
The man struggled in Bel's grip, landing a few solid punches with his good hand. Bel just grinned and shifted into demon form. "How's it feel to face someone who's not so helpless?" he growled.
"What-what are you?" the mugger cried fearfully.
"Retribution," Bel said. He summoned his athame and held it against the mugger's throat. "You hurt my mate. No one does that and lives."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the man babbled. Bel could practically taste his fear. He hadn't killed a human in months, not since coming to Fandom. He'd forgotten what it was like, how intoxicating the rush of terror could be. He'd learned to love the kill, savor the fear and pain. It all came back so easily -- too easily.
But even as his hand moved to thrust the blade into the man's stomach, the human part of him screamed at him to stop. Phoebe wouldn't want this. She'd be disappointed, even horrified, to find out what he'd done. And she wouldn't be the only one. Everyone who'd put their faith in him, who believed he wasn't just a demon, but a man -- they'd all be let down as well.
They didn't have to know. But he'd know.
He let the mugger's body slump to the ground and took a step back. He could just leave him here to bleed to death. Impassively he shifted back to human form and lit a cigarette, standing over the man as he moaned and writhed and clutched his hands to the wound in his belly, pleading for help.
After a few moments, Bel found a payphone nearby and called 911, letting the operator know there was a badly injured man in the park who needed immediate medical attention. He heard the sirens a few moments later. Maybe they'd get here in time. Maybe not. It was out of his hands now. He coldly wiped his prints off the phone -- not that they'd be on file anywhere anyway -- and then shimmered back to Fandom.
He found the man lingering in the shadows, waiting for another unfortunate victim to walk by, no doubt. But tonight, he would be the victim.
Bel shimmered in front of the mugger and grabbed him by his collar, slamming him up against a tree. The man's gun went off as he frantically pulled it from his pants, but the bullet passed harmlessly into the ground. Bel snarled and seized the man's wrist, squeezing until bones ground together and the mugger dropped the gun with a sharp cry of pain. Bel had been shot before and wasn't afraid of being shot again, but it would be troublesome to explain another bullet wound to the clinic, so he kicked the gun safely away.
The man struggled in Bel's grip, landing a few solid punches with his good hand. Bel just grinned and shifted into demon form. "How's it feel to face someone who's not so helpless?" he growled.
"What-what are you?" the mugger cried fearfully.
"Retribution," Bel said. He summoned his athame and held it against the mugger's throat. "You hurt my mate. No one does that and lives."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the man babbled. Bel could practically taste his fear. He hadn't killed a human in months, not since coming to Fandom. He'd forgotten what it was like, how intoxicating the rush of terror could be. He'd learned to love the kill, savor the fear and pain. It all came back so easily -- too easily.
But even as his hand moved to thrust the blade into the man's stomach, the human part of him screamed at him to stop. Phoebe wouldn't want this. She'd be disappointed, even horrified, to find out what he'd done. And she wouldn't be the only one. Everyone who'd put their faith in him, who believed he wasn't just a demon, but a man -- they'd all be let down as well.
They didn't have to know. But he'd know.
He let the mugger's body slump to the ground and took a step back. He could just leave him here to bleed to death. Impassively he shifted back to human form and lit a cigarette, standing over the man as he moaned and writhed and clutched his hands to the wound in his belly, pleading for help.
After a few moments, Bel found a payphone nearby and called 911, letting the operator know there was a badly injured man in the park who needed immediate medical attention. He heard the sirens a few moments later. Maybe they'd get here in time. Maybe not. It was out of his hands now. He coldly wiped his prints off the phone -- not that they'd be on file anywhere anyway -- and then shimmered back to Fandom.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-27 02:44 pm (UTC)