Like Death Itself

Michelle makes her first move, but she's far from done. Joshua's lost his way, and for once his starry-eyed lover is guiding him... from beyond the coporeal realm!





Like Death Itself

Michelle stood bye silently, watching as Pero picked the homely slut up and took her away to god knows where. She knew where. She followed his overwhelming scent across the city, finding him and the same woman, both of them now half nude, in a private room, a very posh one at that, about to make love. And thuse she decided the girl’s life was a little pittance for Pero’s warning.
She battered the girl, and Pero noticed her hesitancy as she slipped out of the booty shorts. She chomped the soul up without a single explanation, smiling and slipping fully into the body. Used indeed, she could feel the whole inner workings of this woman from her pains in the kidneys to the headache waiting to the start. But pain meant little to nothing for a succubus.
Pero slid up beside her in the large satin and velvet draped floor, twining an arm around her legs and bidding her to lay down now, for it was so luxuriously soft down there. Something was also a lot more exotic, exuberant and alluring to him about Shezzebel tonight. Her dirty blond hair was suddenly a bit more soft and longer, shimmering in the candle glow, as was her skin, finally taking on a healthy glow. He liked his women pale, and though she was the color of the moon’s heavenly face, she seemed to glow like it was a deathly tan.
And it was. Her flesh was already hot and inviting, her touches more than exciting him tonight. As she moved to straddle him, guiding him onto his back, he didn’t protest, her kisses dulling his senses as she assumed the body she had been born with. Pero would, no doubt, recognize her. Black hair and piercing blue eyes stared back at him as he sobered, and a stronger than was natural hand clamped over his throat.
“A man watched by Countess of Black would do well to watch his back,” she growled in a vicious, demonic tongue. Pero bit back a threat as she dug hideous white cat’s claws into his throat, his vision shifting into the black realm where her etheral form shown. Her skin was outlined by a steaming hue of blue and green, the deeps of her slitted pupils the deepest black as was her skin, around it the bloodiest hues fo mauve and red.
She grinned, revealing row after row of sharp teeth and a long, rasping forked tongue. “You touch Joshua, you consider yourself a dead man, Perotino Valliano.”




Joshua awoke huffing and puffing in the dark room. Gagged so that he might not scream, bound and blindfolded, stuffed into a box to keep him standing. Torture wasn’t one of Pero’s better skills, but Pero’s ‘pet’ Jenzen would break his fingers one by one. The thought sent shivers up his spine, but suddenly he felt comforted. Little did her know that Pero was dressed and scared out of his ever-living in the next room over, looking again and again to the body that dissected itself atop him, holding him down to let the blood run over him.
But he did hear the last, wailing screech. It was that of something undead, hideous and devilish, drawing on the terror of the man. He thought it was just another dead whore Pero was beating for leaving him unsated. He felt a second, colder, shiver run up his spine inside that tiny, smelly box. He would sleep no more tonight.




Michelle watched them as she chuckled and stepped through the wall, leaving not a bit of evidence to get anyone in trouble. She had nothing against Pero, so long as the man didn’t lift a hair off of her precious Joshua’s head. Not one. Or she castrate Pero for the hell of it.
She snickered again, tinkering with the phone. If the guards weren’t superstitious, now they were when it rang up the police. Knowing this phone’s trace personally, the officers looked to each other over the office desk and their faces blanched. Gang wars were not uncommon, and if someone had claimed a coup on Pero, this would be the signal. Michelle had seen that in Pero’s greatest fears, but not before she’d stoled his seed. It didn’t matter if they made love, she had ways, and now… well, now she’d bring up a half-demon to her side to assist her before she killed it to obliterate a second, more devious crime scene.
And perhaps several more until Joshua was a free man. She listened to the horrified gasps as she walked through the three guards in turn, chanting a spell to make their scents more appealing to her, to remind the hungry succubus that she had more work to do when the night was over. Tonight, she had fasted, tomorrow she would assume the role of a vicious hunter once more.




All of the sudden, Richard and Joshua were reunited, in a bright flourescent-lit room with a window to a darker room. They were on bed, the whole of the room a starched, cleanly white. Richard made to move to stretch or to clean himself up, a six day beard appearring over his sunken cheeks. He felt his stomach rumble and looked around, but to no avail.
Pero, pacing behind the glass, talked to Barty and Neloman who sat watching and monitoring the two captives.
“See that the Richard one is taken out back and…” he began but then he thought back to Michelle’s ominous threat. “Let him go.”
Barty and Neloman looked too him, the shorter and more plump Neloman dropping his prized catch, a chocolate glazed donut. “What?!” they shrieked in unison.
Pero backhanded them both and swore up and down, until Barty walked to the door and called for Richard. “Just you.”
Joshua growled and stood in front of him, giving Richard a knowing look. He knew Pero disposed of the ‘worthless ones’ without mercy.
“No, Pero wants him freed.” Barty said, hurrying them on as he nervously watched the furious Pero and a cursing Neloman look to him at the hesitation. “We’ll give him a gun… and two bullets… a cell phone and a car too.”
Pero nodded and waved a hand. None of it matter, he had fleets of cars, boxes of guns and cell phones, a whole treasury of bullets and magazines. One or two wouldn’t make a difference.
Richard pushed Joshua aside and nodded, whispering something discreetly as he passed. “They need a sniffa fer yer gal.”
Joshua stifled the smile easily, knowing that she had outwitted that bastard again. Yet again, she had managed to disappear probably and this patter had them all worried, for what force might she have rallied in the last six days? And before then, even, a whole week or two now. Joshua did well to bite back a snapping comment at Pero while the door was open.
As was promised, Richard was given a gun with two bullets, a car and a phone and he sped away from Pero’s private island compound like the Southern breezes, heading for the border. If he got down to Temecula, he’d be safe, for in Temecula was a nuetral zone and Pero would have to stretch to worthless lengths to get just one man. Joshua and Michelle were king and queen of the better part of the city, championing the fight ti throw Pero off the city’s back for eight years now.
As soon as Richard was out of sight, Pero threw a great fit and in that time, he ordered Joshua released as well. Joshua headed north, without box or money, nor gun or phone, headed to hell knew where. Anywhere. Then he got pulled voer for speeding, on purpose. He’d be safest in the police compounds, and there he was in two hours.




Michelle saw the opportune moment and couldn’t skip it. Coming to a wanton call, she appeared before Joshua in a half-clad body, curling up in his arms and sighing.
“Joshua, I’ve nto much time to explain. I’m not able to be your wife and I’ve lost the child, to pay in for the gift my elderly uncle gave me… oh woe! This cursed gift… but you are safe, you will live…” she whispered. Joshua took it all in stride, kissing her and gasping prayers for her safe return. Or so he believed.
“This is a dream, I’ve not much longer. I’m safe, don’t look for me, and Pero will soon be… taken care of.” Michelle managed before her body fade. “I love you.” She squealed as her lack of energy return her to a deep lethargy in the Black, with dawn showing through the window. Joshua fell forward and cursed as her body slipped from his hands. This delusion left him with more questions than answer, though, for he now wondered what dark cold had befalled her to make her skin and voice so… cold.
Like Death itself.

Deathwish

Ah yes. It does seem like each of them has a deathwish of their own, but whose will be heard first?






Deathwish

Joshua pulled the abused cellphone from his pocket, looking at the dull screen and then at the locked door of his motel room. It had been a whole two weeks since Michelle had left him, and he was far from just beginning to worry about the girl. He was hysterical now, and Richard was barely able to keep him in the room. Richard, his roomy and as of late, his enemy, had been watching Joshua grow restless when she didn’t turn up.
Neither of them knew that for her to come anywhere near them now would be a death sentence. Quietly she had slipped from bedside to bedside many, many nights now, possessing the local whores off the streets in order to sip from the souls of the thugs and streetlife, and the occasional delicacies the richer men provided. Steengthening herself to fight Pero.
No, Joshua was convinced that Pero had kidnapped her off the street and it was his fault for dragging her into this war. The papers were still stashed with Richard in the thick wooden box. Incriminating papers that would get Pero, the crime lord of Los Angeles, locked away. For good this time.
Quickly he glanced around, noting that Richard had gone out for a smoke by the pool. He dialed the number to Pero’s own bedside phone and damn the man if he was busy fucking some whore. He needed to know where his girl was and now.
The dial tone clicked and buzzed until Pero picked up. “It’s traced, congrats you dumb fucking deadman!” he growled, slamming down the phone. Joshua hung it up and went for the door, dropping it as he slammed his fist on the door.
“Richard! Come now, fuck… Richard?!” he roared, leaning back against the wall and running a hand back through his hair. Pero didn’t have her or he would have tormented Joshua. Pero had the cops, waiting for this. Pero was in on whatever it was. Richard busted in the door, waving his arms and nearly slamming the knob of the door into Joshua’s gut in his rush.
“Whoa, whoa, who’s dyin’, what the feck is goin’ on Josh?” he groaned, looking over to him, his unusual accent thicker as he became more frustrated. “Ye’re gonna wake the fucken’ Devil o’ of these days!”
Joshua pushed him back and closed the door, his breathing hectic as he pointed to the phone, money and the infamous box. “Gather our shit up, we need to leave – tonight- because Pero traced my call…” he gasped, makign Richard’s lips go wide, the cigarette dropping onto the blankets.
“Fuck!” Richard said sharply, “You din’… yes you did. Josh ye stupid boy! You call’t Pero, you dumbass and now he’s on us!” he said, jumping off the bed as Joshua noded. Within five minutes they had everything packed in the car, the key was taped to the back of the locked door as they sped out of the parking lot.
Richard kept glancing over to Joshua, the car’s windows up as they took the best lit streets. “Was it worf it, eh Josh?” he asked softly.
Josh sobbed and hld his temples. “He doesn’t have her.” He whispered, shaking his head. “Michelle’s in the gutter somewhere and it’s all my god damn fault.”
Richard tapped the brakes as his eyes shot over to Joshua, making the bus behind them screech on its brakes and honk.
“It was then.” He gently answered, turning them off to a brightly lit carpark. “So ye knew yer sweet’art is safe.”
Joshua groaned and slammed a fist into his thigh, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. “But Pero’s flushed us out again. And he can track the phone, but how … he knew we were in that room. Cell phones can’t be tracked like landlines…” he blankly deliberated, relaxing. “He knew all along. And he knew Michelle was gone, knew that we wouldn’t leave until we had her… and he was bluffing that he had her to bring us in.”
Richard looked over and grinned. “Ah, then thanks to ye, fer getting’ us outta harms way. And thanks to yer smartass girl. Make sure I getta thank her someday and apologize for calling her a whore.” He said, chuckling. Joshua, for once, chuckled with him, the dark circles under his eyes seeming to fade the slightest bit.




Michelle wiped her lips with the corner of a blanket before leaving the bedside, bumping a candle to light the place on fire. As she willed the cloth into being with her strong mind, a white gown covered her corporeal body until it faded into that of a ghost with long, black tendrils for wings. She drifted up through the roof and out to the night sky, spreading the curled tendrils and soaring back towards her nest.
As she touched down on the landing, she sighed. She hadn’t counted the amount of time had passed since she had been transformed, but she was almost strong enough to kill Pero and to contact Joshua. Killing the deepest pit of courrption in the city would deeply taint her, and make her hungers vicious. After all, that’s what kept her going, feasting on the evil, transmuting chaos and corruption to order and goodliness.
Michelle smiled softly as she slipped into her private room, away from the two servant maids left to her by Camangelo. She need privacy to think about this. She had to know, when and where, she could time it all out to make it easier to kill the man. How complicated it seemed for only one body, but well worth it.




Pero walked out from behind one of the brightly lit cement pillars clapping and smilign under the black hood. “Good job, nice show.” He grimly commented. He had, indeed, been tracking Joshua and Richard from the hospital. He had, however, lost tabs on Michelle when she seemingly vanished from the face of the earth.
Richard turned pale, and Joshua stiffened as more thugs closed on the car, slashing the tires and plugging the exhaust. They both exited the car, but then a cold wind whipped up. Something was amiss about Pero, normally the cocky man would walk anywhere without fear. Why was he now hiding his face?
Lilithia watched, still planning his demise. She would not let him hurt Joshua, but until she could make her move she could not interfere. She phased through the car, taking the box and the money. Pero would gain nothing.
She knew they would feel her, but as she locked their guns up with the pangs of her deepest chaos, she turned and stepped through the Blackdoor with confidence. No gain, no murders.
Joshua and Pero looked around but then Pero threw bck the hood. “Bind and gag them, search the car then mar and burn the damn thing.” He said, turning. No elborate murder schemes tonight, both Richard and Joshua noticed. Pero was uncomfortable in his own city.




Later that night, Pero picked up his phone, calling the cellphone that had been left near the bunred out shell of Richard’s car. He left a terrifying message, at least terrifying to the normal populace.
“If you don’t bring me the box, he dies at midnight.” He said, calm and coolly. Surely she’d be smart enough. But however she had gotten the box in a hand off had escaped him. He’d seen everything, and there were no fake copies of that box. He was afraid, afraid because for once he didn’t hold the better hand of cards at his own table.




Michelle looked on in concern as the phone rang. She had revisited the scene to ensure her slight intervention had done nothing, and indeed, it hadn’t. She listened to the ominous message and laughed. Pero couldn’t kill a man wo had the protection of the single most powerful demoness aside from Lucifer’s own minions.
She laughed all the louder as she picked up the phone and crushed it in a single hand, though anyone watching would have thought that it imploded of its own accord.
“A man so hated by the Countess of Black would do well to watch his back.” She whispered cryptically., dropping the phone, or what was left after it had been ground into sand. Yes, soon she would be able to turn the tables and knock every single thug from the face of the earth in her city.

The Change

Dun dun dunnn! Michelle leaves Joshua in the darkness... literally, as she is taken away to pass the torch of her family's secretive - and utterly chaotic - lore-filled past heritage. The heritage of the incubus Camangelo of Black.




The Change


Joshua glanced at Michelle as they walked out of the hospital hand in hand a week after the shooting. They had spent the last few nights deliberating what they would do after they left, and finally she convinced him to let her split up from his side to go with her inner ‘gut’. Joshua had refused and avoided it, but she had won him over, and he knew she was right. Pero wasn’t after her, Pero was after him and if he wasn’t with her, all the better.
Joshua glanced over at her and sighed. “So when will I see you again?” he asked, squeezing her hand and avoiding her startling eyes as they strode down the street. Michelle stopped, leadign him aside into a dark alley.
“Soon.” Is all her heard as s great darkness dropped over them, wisping her away before his eyes. He felt his heart drop as her warmth left him, the darkness brooding. On instinct, he stumbled backwards, and then the sunlight was back in full. Strange. This wasn’t the street he’d been on before. He was in the better side of the city now, somewhere Pero’s rein had never leeched out to. Somewhere he could wait out the next few nights in peace. Until Pero found him and sent his thug-buddies to retrieve him.




Michelle stepped through the Darkdoor, something she had only learned about recently in her dreams where the ‘Angel of Death’ himself had visited her. How could this portly elderly man be Death? She wondered, barely able to get out of his chair, quiet like the spring breeze. Or was it a fake weakness he used to lure victims in, victims deserving of their fate?
With a raspy voice, he waved his hand to bring her closer, not by any will of her own, foecing her to kneel beside the chair. “You have been chosen, by blood and blood before you,” he grated, making her look at him, his blank, listless eyes sending chills up her spine. “You are the Countess… of the Other side.” He explained.
She knew the family lore. Somewhere along the line, where fantasy and reality blurred the lines and spilled into one another, they had claimed the heritage of a single black angel, Camangelo. He was never referenced in other lore. She would be the last living relative, and now havign found her great uncle, though she did not know how or why, she’d come full circle and would become the second countess of the Black.
“Michelle, what do you know about Camangelo?” he asked, turning away from her.
“He… was a fairytale. It’s family lore, uncle, you should know.” She said, in little more than a whisper. The older man smiled.
“He was the most powerful angel of black, the patriarch of your – our- family, an incubus of great power. I am Camangelo.” He gritted, turning to her with a wide, wicked smile. “And I am nearing the end of my three century life. I have chosen you to carry on the greatest legacy.”
Michelle nearly dropped cold. Had it only been a fairytale? She had to believe the blackness in his eyes. “Cam-Camangelo? I am… I am to be…” she stuttered.
Camangelo nodded and stood, his body shivering violently. “Soon. Tonight, I believe. Come, come… time to pass the torch.” He said, his smile dimming. “I only regret that I have not the will to force you to the deed, it is your choice to take this gift.”
He explained, offering his hand to her. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t begin to comprehend this. She could refuse, and go back to a normal life but no, it was much too late for that. But what did this all mean? Oh, too little time, too many paths were there for her.
“What would… to become Countess of Black, what would be asked of me?” she asked in a soft tone. Camangelo’s smile expired.
“The child. Succubi cannot have children in the Black, only after your two-hundreth year may you choose a successor. You may not marry. You will not age until your three-hundred and eighty-eight year of life as Countess. You may not show yourself to goodly folk except to tell of serious impending doom, or to join past lovers. Daytime is forbidden to you, and your body will become ethereal.”
Michelle didn’t even feel the tears and the lump in her throat as she took her hand and determinedly nodded. She knew the powers of succubi were a great gift, and she knew that with them she might protect Joshua. But that he would never live to see her choose the successor.




That night, as Camangelo lay in the bed next to her, she felt the changes begin. His body turned to ashes and bones next to her, but she couldn’t notice through the agony. She groaned as she felt the aches in her bones and her flesh’s tingling as they became less than touchable. Soon, she could see that, through her tears, she couldn’t see herself showing up on the pool of water beside the bed. Until she willed herself to
As a scantilly clad maiden. She was no different, but her beauty had an exotic allure now. Even women would be sorely tempted by her in the many years to come.
Michelle turned to what was left of Camangelo’s body, whispering her thanks and smirking. Pero always had a soft spot for beautiful women, what might he do if his arch enemy’s wife to behold showed up nude at his bedside?

Another Update

As promised. I had to search a tiny bit for this one, since it wasn't saved in a different segment like I usually do. If there are typos, try to survive while reading I didn't get as much time to edit as I would have liked.





Ashes on the Water - Part Three

Michelle woke with a jerk, finding Joshua’s arms still wound around her tightly when she shifted. Joshua smiled, the corner of his lip showing a bloody cut that had not been tended to. Michelle kissed his jaw, sitting up and blinking in the warm afternoon heat, her hoodie still soaked and coated on one arm by thick black sludge mud. She looked to his wounded shoulder, noting his stiffness and the cringe as he reached to touch her cheek. One of her nails had been torn off in the scuffle, his forehead at a cut by his hairline.

“We need to see a doctor.” She whispered, her voice soft and dry from sleep. Joshua nodded, standing and pulling her up with him.

“Yeah, I was waitin’ for you to wake up doll.” He whispered, cupping her to his chest with his good arm and reaching to pinch her nose. “Broken?”

“No, I don’t think Raz broke it.” She answered before he could try to convince her to let him fix it. In truth, she knew by the odd angle that it was broken, but not badly. Joshua led her out of the alley, on their way back to where Razuko had been attacked. Joshua saw the cop lights from around the corner and quickly held Michelle back, her concerned look telling him her fears. He peeked around, noting the pool of blood across the cement. Joshua promised himself he wouldn’t tell Michelle what he’d done to Razuko with the four other bullets in that gun.

He turned, passing her and grabbing her elbow, leading her down towards the river and pulling out the gun. No, he reconsidered, this was too close to the murder scene. He continued leading her up the street, ten miles up the river almost. They needed the gun anyways, with one bullet, for they were in the worst part of the city and only on foot. Joshua let Michelle stop to rest, and on the final mile je picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He was a strong man, a whole foot taller than her at six-foot-seven and a pretty scary man when pissed. That’s what she loved about him, that he would often scare her but she found his anger curious and if anything it drew her closer.

He had been careful not to become angry at her, the discipline of a Marine who had been hardened by eight years across seas in a small war in Brazil. Michelle often worried that he wouldn’t come back, but the worry of loosing him wasn’t as great as the loneliness of not having him or the insecurity of being alone in this city. Joshua would face down any threat to her, often with her help. They had met as companions on a deal with Pero long ago. Razuko, Pero’s younger brother, had foiled the deal and tried to kill Pero, but the fight had been arranged by Michelle, knowing they’d needed the time to escape.

A honk brought Michelle and Joshua back to the mangy street corner they stood on, across from the hospital. Someone’s car alarm had been set off and was going haywire. Michelle, exhausted from the walk and feeling it strongly, buried her head into his good shoulder and slept some more as he walked to the canal behind the river. He looked at the gun before throwing it out into the fast moving canal waters, turning and walking into the ER. He walked to one of the nurses and sat Michelle against the counter as he talked to the nurse.

“She’s got a broken nail and a broken nose I think. She’s pregnant too. I’ve got a gunshot in my shoulder, not critical, and a broken finger. A scrape on my forehead and a busted lip too.”

The nurse nodded, her fingers clicking in the information as he told her, before she stood and walked into the small office behind the desk. Two male nurses in blue scrubs walked out, helping to get Michelle strapped onto the gurney they had wheeled out. She stirred as they finished, looking to Joshua before passing out again, her hand curling and uncurling at her side. They took them both to a small room and set Joshua down to begin washing his wounds. He was stoic as they put the alcohol onto his shoulder, looking from the wound to Michelle as they worked with her too. He could see her cry as they fixed her nose, the doctor leaning over her on the opposite side of the gurney whispering to the nurse. She nodded and walked out, as the doctor looked at Michelle’s badly bent arm. Broken, Joshua guessed.

It broke his heart to see his little ‘Kiss’ in pain. He snarled softly as the nurse stuck a swab into his wound, his eyes narrowing. Who knows what that bastard Pero had told her when he was gone? He thought. And what was she dealing with Razuko for? The nurse gave him a quiet apology as the doctor helped wheel Michelle’s gurney out. They were back in an hour, Joshua waiting quietly on the bed in the painfully plain white room, his forehead stitched and bandaged, his lip also stitched, and his entire shoulder in a sling. Michelle’s arm was in a dark blue cast when they returned, her engagement ring having been removed. Kindly the doctor handed Joshua the ring and smiled.

“Baby’s fine and she’ll wake up shortly. We gave her heavy painkillers for us to fix that arm. Joshua smiled appreciatively and hugged the man, speechless for a moment.

“My health care should pay the bills, right doc?” Joshua asked, reaching for his wallet, but the doctor stopped him.

“Look, Josh, I’ll make sure to put as much onto your healthcare as I can, the rest I’ll pay personally. Michelle told us what happened to her, and we know she prefers her business to be left to herself.” He told Josh, giving the younger man’s wrist a gentle squeeze. Josh nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder and passed him to pull up a chair beside Michelle. He lay on the edge of the bed, his jacket and shirt on the chair, his good arm supporting his head as he watched her sleeping peacefully. She looked so beautiful to him that the temptation of having her in that gown was pretty strong, but he would wait until a more appropriate time. He noticed her moving and shifted closer, listening to her whisper in a dry voice. He kissed her and shook his head, standing and walking to the small sink and filling a paper cup with water, returning and holding her head up to dribble it into her lips. She smiled after he set the cup down, turning to him and opening her eyes. Her left eye had a light black spot under it, almost too puffy to be opened Joshua noted.

“Mmm, how long have I been out?” She whispered, wiggling the fingers of her right arm in the cast. He just shrugged, he hadn’t been counting the hours but he knew it to be late.

“Hey, they said the baby’s fine. I’m okay.” He said, clipping off her next question as that troubled look passed her face. He kissed her, pulling a blanket up over her and pulling her close to his warm body. He could feel the normal heat of the wound in his left shoulder, he wasn’t new to being a gun target. He’d survived being shot in the same shoulder six years ago. He looked down on her as she smiled in silence, his hand running from the knee where her gown ended, up to her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles there. He knew his calloused hand to be rough, but she had thick skin and had even told him that she liked the feeling.

“Josh?” She whispered into his ear as he leaned to kiss her neck, trailing his hand around to her inner thigh and grinning like a wicked dog. Michelle bite her lip, shifting as best she could with her back so achy and stiff. She gave him a concerned look but he shook his head and moved his hand back out. He would wait until later, he had promised. Right now he just wanted to kiss her and bring her some pleasure for all the pain.

Ashes on the Water - Update

Next part of Ashes on the Water.





Darkest Hour of Night

Michelle turned the corner, bumping into a strange looking man and blanching as he pulled back his coat. He blinked eight times in a patter and she reached to fix her bra strap, a silent conversation of signals going on amidst a rather large crowd. She made her hand look like a gun and the man smiled, offering his hand to her.

“Hello darling, let’s go home.” He said, noticing her reluctance to take his hand and snatching her with a soft hiss of warning. He pulled her along behind him, until they walk the four blocks to the ‘bad side’ of town. The man pulled her around by the elbow and sucker punched her in the jaw, sending her sprawling against a cement wall.

“Bitch, where is it?!” he growled, crouching down and pulling her face to his, the toothy smile deadly and cold. She squirmed, pulling something out of her hoodie, but Razuko was too quick, snatching up the black packet and swiping a fist across her face, splattering her in her bloodied nose. Michelle inched away as she clutched her nose, not crying a single tear; the packet was a fake.

Then she saw him as he pulled out his gun, pushing it up against her forehead.

“If this is another of yer tricks, you whore, I’ll blow your brains half through that wall.” He growled, waving the packet in front of her, his finger easing onto the trigger. “And if it ain’t… you’re still dead.” He said, pulling the trigger. Michelle cried out as she tried to dive away, not noting the scuffle of a man bowling Razuko over, the bullet going through her hero’s shoulder.

Michelle was up and running, dodging around the deepest corners of the shadows until she was well winded, though one set of footsteps followed her, unnaturally fast. As she saw the man coming to her with the hand gun she back up to the dead end corner.

“No, please, please… I’m pregnant…” She whimpered, sobbing and searching the wall desperately. Instead of the ring of another gunshot, Michelle felt soft, familiar lips over her own.

“I… I know baby, it’s my little one. Shhh.” Joshua whispered, placing the gun in the back of his belt to wrap her up in a tight hug, wincing at the burning in his left shoulder. Joshua’s mind ran with Michelle’s, both of them relieved to know the other was alive.

“Oh Michelle, I’m so sorry…” Joshua whispered, holding her out at arms length to look at her, his shoulder having left blood smears across her neck and cheek when they hugged. He tried to wipe up the smears, only making them worse and frowning. Michelle’s face was covered in her own blood, swear and dirt, her hair matted and crusted from the sidelong fall into a puddle of street muck. She was shivering and soaked now, her hands scuffed up badly. Michelle sniffed and sobbed so hard she could barely look at him, her hiccups seizing every now and then. She shook her head as he was about to speak again, pulling him close and backing into the shadows again.

Michelle collapsed to the ground, exhausted now, her legs too weak to support her. Her lover tried to soften the fall, slipping under her to cradle her against his chest as they sat on the lone patch of weeds in the deep darkness, two lost souls alone in the silence. Finally, he reached out to run his hand along her face, tucking her hair back to give her a soft kiss.

“How is the baby?” she heard Joshua whisper, barely beyond consciousness.

“Wonderful…” she muttered, her half closed eyes closing when she tilted her head. She felt his forehead against hers just as they both fell asleep on that long and troubled night.

Ashes on the Water

As with most of my writing, I managed a page of something with a promise... It's kind of sad, but preying on the strong emotions such as love, anger and grief can bring about some quality work. I've got a rough idea of the storyline, and I might work on this more if I don't work on documenting my work books (seven months of writing from during school).

Michelle Lita Hansen- Startling blue eyes and raven black hair. Aged around twenty-two, pregnant by her (deceased) fianceé Joshua Maugave. She stands 5'3".
In the story, some of her background is presented but not to spoil that part, I won't add it. She was eighteen when she met Joshua and they dated on and off for some time before he proposed, six months prior to his murder by Pero for helping the cops to bust one of Pero's 'rat holes'. Michelle is a general outcast, but somewhat wealthy. I'd disclose more of her background but as of yet, I have to mesh the details. (Ha, like most of my work, nothing's ever truly finished...) On to the story.





Ashes on the Water.

Michelle knew well who it was when her phone began to buzz, the soft sound seeming unordinarily loud to the din of a summer rain storm. She pulled the phone out with trembling hands, hoping, with all her heart, that Pero hadn’t found Joshua. She flipped it open, putting it gingerly to her ear as she shifted on the top of the dumpster in a dark alley, sheltered from the rain under a balcony.
“Hello?” She asked the quiet of the line. She cringed and shifted again as she heard his smooth voice.
“Hey, Swan. We caught our… ‘rat’. We’re going to leave the body somewhere you’ll have a decent time finding, no worries.” His voice was pleased, even happy. Then a ruckus of laughter sounded out on the other end, before it cut out to nothingness. She shook, gasping like she’d been hit in the chest with a steel mallet
“You… you bastard!” She screamed, her hand darting out to throw the phone against the alley wall fifteen feet into the rainy darkness. Her sobs came hard as she knelt on the dumpster, pounding her bare fists against it in a grieving rage. Then everything went black.

She awoke the next morning, to the sounds of garbage trucks on Monday morning. Quickly, she shrugged off the slurping feeling off falling asleep after crying hard, her head wobbling as she scrambled over to pick up the cell. Without a second thought, she shoved it deep into her pocket, knowing the picture message that she’d received would be some sick puzzle Pero had planted for her. What would she do? Pero’s lackey’s had likely ransacked Joshua’s apartment and burned it down by now. She had nowhere to go, back home wasn’t even an option. Her parents had gone so far as a restraining order from her younger brother after they learned that she’d carjacked a truck and driven two hundred miles to escape a loan shark that had been after her. She frowned as she thought back, still guilty now after her younger brother’s near death.
Michelle hadn’t seen the boy in six years, since he was just a toddler and she was fifteen. She’d been the queen of Marindon Avenue, sneaking out at night and getting into the worst fights. But she’d changed, she changed… she pleaded still. She moved as she heard the truck behind her, pushing up her hood and hiding her hands deep in the single pocket on the front. Joshua’s sad smile donned on her thoughts, last night before he ran. He was trying to keep her safe, keep their unborn child away from Pero’s sick world. He’d run, trying to catch a flight to France in an effort to lure Pero out of the country.
Pero had been too smart. She knew that Pero himself had probably crawled out his damned rat hole to have the fun of shooting Joshua down in the Westfield Church that Joshua had been hiding in. Suddenly, the tears again, her sobs loud enough to draw the attention of several passer-by strangers. She saw a woman carrying a toddler, a beautiful little brown haired girl with the deepest green eyes. She smiled half-heartedly as the mother coddled the child and nuzzled her cheek. Soon, she’d have her own baby. But the kid wouldn’t have a father.
Michelle was too busy suffering to notice that a young girl had been running after her, the mother shouting from a street café some ways down the street.
“Miss!” The little girl shrieked, “Miss! Miss! Wait!”
Michelle turned finally, stopping to crouch for the short little girl to talk to her. She couldn’t even put on a fake smile, and the little sad face the girl had broke her heart in so many more ways than Joshua’s death had. She glanced back at the little girl’s mother and sighed.
“Miss, you dropped this.” She said, leaning back on her heels all proud as she held out the golden locket. Michelle slowly reached out to take the locket, sniffling and smiling as she pulled the little girl close.
“Thanks. Do you have a name so I can tell my baby girl about you when she’s as old and smart as you?” Michelle asked, hugging the girl and smiling when she nodded.
“Hanna.” The little girl giggled as her mother rushed up and put a hand on the girl’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry miss, Hanna’s sometimes too friendly.” She said, looking to Michelle’s barely showing belly and grinning in a kind way of knowing. Michelle shook her head and replaced the locket around her neck, tucking it into her hoodie and smiling.
“Oh no, she’s gorgeous. I hope my baby is just like her, when she’s grown up.” She told the woman, glancing at the girl as she turned to leave, waving at her.
“Bye Hanna.”

Hannah and her mother turned to walk back to the café, Michelle headed down the street again, to where, she didn’t know.