K
KattDclaw
Guest
(Closed for KattDclaw and AnyOtherName.)
Intro: This is a continuation of the thread mentioned above. Kayne and Sparks are members of the the Team of Misfits (the group is referred by the Organization as Project: Misfit...so much for love). They undertook their first mission and failed miserably. This is the fall out of that failed mission.
Everything came back all at once in a blinding flash of reality. The first thing that registered in Kayne’s senses was pain. Absolute sheer agony that laced up her chest, a constant deep pressure that felt like she was being slowly torn apart, or at least something was trying to. The next thing she recovered was her sight; orbs of pure white snapped opened and bulged from their sockets. She found her voice, which started shortly after her dry lips parted in a silent cry of anguish. It soon caught up, rising as a shrill wail that filled the deafening silence that had surrounded her. There was light somewhere in the distance, dim and flickering yet providing enough light for her to take in her surroundings. It was the way the light played off the metal chain above her that caught her attention, despite the pure agony that coursed through her with every waking moment Kayne found it within herself to focus.
She was dead only moments ago, she knew that without truly comprehending the why or how. It wasn’t the first time though somewhere inside of her hoped it would be the last. Coming back had never been a pleasant experience; you could only claw yourself out of a body bag so many times before it really got lame. This time around she found herself in a different situation, never before had she felt such intense and unrelenting pain. Kayne knew that the next few moments were important, she would either figure out what was going on or die. She wasn’t entirely optimistic that she would come back from this one. So the androgynous woman drew upon that impressive willpower and did something she rarely ever did with it: she focused. Kayne took in a sharp, shaking breath and narrowed her gaze, focusing on the way the light flickered and danced on the metallic bits dangling above her. It was a chain, a thick metal chain that was somehow connected to her and the ceiling. The sleek muscles of her svelte frame twitched as she started to regain feeling, causing her focus to falter as the pain intensified. She grit her teeth, grinding them together and let out a feral growl as she fought to regain control.
“No,” She croaked, lifting her head so she could take in her surroundings fully. Kayne found herself dangling in the air, the weight of her frame suspended by the chain. She followed the chain back down to her body, only to find the reason for the excruciating pain. A massive hook protruded from her ribcage, just underneath her left breast. It was caked in dried blood; in fact most of her pale white figure was covered in the dark crust. That and ice. Wait. She was naked, why the fuck was she naked? The realization slowly dawned on her only to cloud her mind with far too many questions to comprehend at one time. How in the fuck did she get her? The sudden influx of thoughts started to work on Kayne’s focus and the pain began to creep back in. Her breathing was frantic and desperate; each breath caused another jolt of pain to cause her to twitch and spasm. That in itself only made it worse, the movements started to shift the hook inside her and Kayne felt a low, subtle trickle of warmth over her chest. She knew she was bleeding, reopening wounds that had closed around the hook. She had been hung up like a piece of fucking meat, left to rot or whatever sick intentions they had for her corpse. With the warmth of her fresh blood Kayne realized the numbness in her body wasn’t just from being suspended in the air. Her white gaze focused on the puffs of smoke that escaped with each ragged breath she took. Then came a laugh, a real bark of absurd laughter that shook her on the chain.
She was in a fucking meat locker! The thought was ridiculous; Kayne couldn’t help but laugh even as each chuckle made the agony all the worse.
She had to get off this hook, first and foremost. The thing was her limbs were barely working, by the time she decided on the task at hand a shaky right hand had risen from its dangling presence at her side. Her slender digits were covered in frost and black gore, she was going to need one hell of a manicure after this. The thought made Kayne grin, if only because the thought of her getting a manicure was just as utterly ridiculous as her hanging from a meat hook. She grasped at the chain, the muscles in her arm tensing and straining as she tugged. After a few moments of futile straining Kayne relented with a cry; the movement sent her swinging lightly on the chain and the pain to increase.
Get with it, girl. You get the fuck off this hook or fucking die here.
Kayne mentally berated herself and narrowed her gaze in concentration. She let herself settle from the swing before she attempted again. With a few heavy breaths she reached for the chain again, grasping it tightly with both hands and hefting. Her thew was impressive for such a skinny and sleek frame, the inner reserves of Kayne’s willpower just as impressive. Her grip was sure and she slowly but surely lifted herself up. All she had to do was get enough slack to pull the hook out and then, well she would figure that part out once she got there. First things first. Her voice waivered with grunts and growls as she hoisted herself up, finally gaining enough clearance to proceed; now for the tricky part. She held tightly to the chain with her right hand and slowly, subtly let go with the left. She grasped the hook and started to tug, though as she did her grip faltered. Maybe her strength was as impressive as she thought.
Kayne fell hard. The weight of her entire body pulled against her skin against the hook and if it hadn’t been pierced through her ribcage she would have torn fully free. If only she had been that lucky. As she hit the end of the length of chain the pain hit back like nothing she had felt before. She parted her lips to scream, but nothing came out. Silently she wailed in agony, lights flashing before her eyes before her vision threatened to falter entirely. The grip of sweet unconsciousness was sure a tempting offer, anything to be rid of this constant misery! If she did though it would be game over and there wouldn’t be any chances to retry. Kayne reassured herself this was her only chance; it was now or never, not later and maybe. She finally found her voice and let out a keening scream, swiftly focusing it in a bestial cry. Instead of absolute focus Kayne found the one thing in her she could always trust: her anger.
“Fuck.” She snarled, flinging her right hand out and grasping the chain.
“You!” She spat out venomously as she lashed out with her left and hoisted herself up a few inches.
“FUCK!” She roared, another few inches with her right. Her left hand followed soon after, wrapping about the chain length and drawing herself up several inches. With a grating hiss she grasped at the hook with her right hand, not wasting any time this time around. With numb fingers she twisted the hook and slid it out, just like removing it from a fish’s lip. She let out a feral scream as the pain tore through her, since she was all but ripping the hook from a fully healed wound. Her jaw set and she gritted her teeth, the strain causing the tendons in her neck to strain and bulge. She had it almost completely out of the wound when her strength finally faltered once again. This time when she fell Kayne kept going, the razor sharp barb of the hook tearing into the soft pale flesh at her side. It tore straight up the left side of her ribcage, a few inches to the side of her breast and straight up to her shoulder. Kayne screamed as she sliced herself open and plummeted to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes. She hit the concrete on her hip and tried to catch herself with her hands. They slipped on the icy crust and she smacked fully against it, her face half buried in only the Gods knew what. She couldn’t care about that, not now. Her blood was a vivid red even in the dim light, hot and drooling over her frame. It even smoked in the frigid air, which would have been pretty cool to see if it wasn’t happening to her. It was hard to gauge reality now, the pain was beyond measure and Kayne’s vision was slowly fading in and out. She was light headed, partially from the fall and the blood loss.
But hey, at least she was done. Now onto part two; getting the fuck out of Dodge.
Kayne heard the sound of a door opening by the time she stumbled to her feet. Heavy footsteps drew closer as she pushed up to her feet and stood covered in her own blood, naked and partially crusted over with ice. One hand clung to her wound, though it could do nothing to stem the flow of blood. Her hair was a ragged mess, a rat’s nest that poked out every which way, some of it crusted over and clinging to her skin as well. What a sight she made as the young man in a white labcoat approached with a clipboard in one hand and a flashlight in the other. The look on his face was comical as the light of his flashlight fell upon the svelte frame of Kayne’s. He faltered and stood motionless at the sight of the young woman, completely dumbstruck by what he was witnessing. Kayne’s typical bruised colored eyes were a pure, unearthly white now. Just two black pinpricks in a unmolested field of pure driven snow. Yet she had a face of a wounded predatory, sharp and fierce and angry. And now she was a wounded predator that had spotted prey. Every bit of logical thought ebbed away at the sight of this young man. He was of no threat to Kayne, even in her wounded state she could have laid the smack down without even trying. But he was alive, so warmth and his life force was literally throbbing in the air about him. She couldn’t see it as much as feel it, the palpable lifeforce that every living creature gave off. It was that lifeforce that Kayne drew sustenance from. Sure she could eat and drink like any normal human being, but she was a mutant, an offshoot psychic that drew on the lifeforce of others to sustain herself. Don’t use the V word around her though. No, never. In Kayne’s eyes he was a big, delicious cookie and she was the fat kid it was dangling in front of.
She moved on instinct, all rational thought long subsumed by the need to feed. She flashed her teeth in a vicious grin, much like she had done so long ago to a certain Leftenant in another life. Her breath came in ragged grunts as she took a trembling step forward.
“H-Hey! Wait!” The man finally snapped from his shock-induced daze. He raised the flashlight at her, as if shining the light in her eyes might stop her. He dropped the clipboard and reached for the radio at his side, but it was already too late. Kayne was on him with surprising quickness, in the blink of an eye she had him smashed against the door with so much force it stole the breath from his lungs. She growled and slobbered like some feral beast, her eyes that deathly white, devoid of any true human emotion. She was an animal, a wounded hungry animal. Animals survived on instinct, they did what they did without remorse or second thought. Kayne was hungry and this poor fuck was her can of Pringles. Yet the next few moments were what separated her from a true animal. She held him in place with a forearm against his chest, sneering at his youthful face before slamming her brow against his nose and shattering it. The man sputtered and screamed, his voice choked with fear and his own blood.
“I need you,” Kayne moaned suddenly, her voice crackling yet still holding an undeniable huskiness to it. It was the tone of a needy lover, crawling up slowly and temptingly, begging to have their desires sated. He tried to struggle, grasping at Kayne’s forearm as if to pry it away. But all he found was steely resolve and eyes that promised death. His flailing only angered her, to which she violently shoved him back against the door once more. The back of his head connected with the metal, giving a dull metallic thump. The man groaned weakly and collapsed, his legs giving out entirely. Kayne let him go, her white eyes following him the entire way. With a deliberate slowness to her movements she slid down over him, straddling his waist and bunching the material of his shirt in her grasp. With her other hand she gave him a vicious slap across his cheek, strong enough to snap his head to the side and send his mind reeling.
“I need you,” She repeated in a steadfast murmur. The animalistic nature slowly faded as she started to fed, drinking in the terror and the pain that emanated from him with each beat of his heart. They were just an appetizer, enough to give her the strength to focus on the task at hand. Those white orbs flickered and the color within them shifted into a disgusting bruise while a sinister little smirk tugged at the left side of her thin lips. She brought her free hand between them, fingers outstretched before curling inward. Slowly the shadow coalesced into the shape of a dagger, its handle thick and the blade so thin it was almost imperceptible when viewed from the side. Kayne brandished it with practice easy, wielding it as much as an implement of terror as a weapon of war.
“P-Please!” The man finally sputtered the first real word he had said. “I have a kid…a family!” His voice was strained with fear; Kayne savored every syllable, drinking in the tangible emotion with a disturbing glee. She leaned in closer, drawing the tip of the dagger up against his cheek, silencing the pitiful begging.
“Good.” She said lowly, drawing the edge of the dagger down across his cheek, leaving a gash in its wake. The man cried out and started to struggle, Kayne only dug deeper and drew the blade down across his jaw.
“I want you to think of them while you die. Look at me,” She said with the hard edge of a killer. There was no remorse or hesitation in those cold eyes or in her knife work. She drew several more bloody lines across his face, relishing cries as much as the exquisite sensation his pain brought. All too quickly she sliced his shirt and poised the tip of the blade against his chest, right above his heart.
“Look at me!” She demanded, grasping his hair with her free hand and slamming it against the door once more. He whimpered and fought, meeting that disturbing gaze, his own glazed in fear. Kayne took her sweet time slipping the blade between his ribcage; the dagger could have easily finished him off before he realized his flesh had been cut. Yet to properly feed on his draining life energy, Kayne had to draw out the pain. She had learned early on how to do this, to draw it out and then finally finish the job. At the point of death a person’s potential life energies doubled, if it happened to coincided with a intense (often times tragic and brutal) death it could even triple or quadruple. It wasn’t an exact science, but Kayne had a lot of practice. It wasn’t the first time she watched the life fade from a man’s eyes and as she absorbed that amassing lifeforce, she sure hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
Kayne had experienced a lot of things in her short life. She drank to excess, took almost every kind of drug imaginable and had tried many things sexually that would make the most jaded masochist blanch. But nothing had ever come close to this, there was no drug, no drink or experience that could come close to the bliss that taking another life could offer. It was an orgy of all the senses, Kayne trembled and moaned in ecstasy as she took in the intangible energy escaping the dying body. It was all very anti-climactic, at least visually. She wasn’t some Scotsmen from the movies slicing off each other’s heads and flying up in the air. The process was invisible to the naked eye save the obvious affect upon the lithesome frame. Kayne clung to the corpse, pressed a palm against the door frame and shook. It left her breathless and reeling, her body tingled as it would after a fitful bout of coupling, her stomach felt full and content and the pain of her wounds all but disappeared. It was an unconscious act to heal herself, the nasty gash on her torso slowly knitted and closed, leaving another new scar under the gore.
Kayne knelt there for several minutes, taking deep breaths and simply enjoying and reveling in her kill. It was the first time since she had awoken that she felt as close to normal as she could. With a huff she pushed up off the corpse and stretched, her arms curling above her head as she arched her back. The chill of the cooler started to creep back in and Kayne looked about for something to cover herself with. Her clothing was nowhere to be seen, or anything else that might tell her just where she was. She checked the corpse and found nothing of interest, so she tugged the lab coat off the body and threw it about her proud shoulders. With a renewed interest she began to explore her surroundings. She was indeed in some kind of meat locker, though it wasn’t sides of beef that hung from the hooks. There were corpses hanging from them as far as the eye could see, which albeit wasn’t very far. They disappeared into the darkness as Kayne turned and searched the nearby racks, only to find a choice selection of body parts. She picked up one forearm with its hand still attached and gave it a curious glance.
“Sup buddy? Need a hand?” She asked, clasping her palm against the frigid piece of meat in a macabre high-five before she tossed it back onto the rack. Why the hell was she in a meat locker? Kayne strained to find a reason, though she wound up with more questions than answers. She couldn’t recall much at the time, but that wasn’t as strange as it might sound. The last two times she had died she awoke with a similar case of amnesia, the last few days or months of her life a complete blank. She vaguely recalled doing something for someone, there were a lot of other people around and she was pretty damn sure she was wearing pants. Finding little else of interest besides more cadavers Kayne returned to the exit and her meal. She pushed aside the limp body and shoved the door open, the rush of air from the mixing temperatures causing her hair to whip about her cheeks. She emerged in a dimly lit hallway, nondescript and smelling of mold. Her numb feet shuffled against the ground as she trekked down the hallway. One hand tugged at the bloody lab coat about her, which offered only a scrap of modesty but at least provided some warmth. She walked past several closed and locked doors until she found one that was open, a bright light shining from within. She paused briefly near the entrance, listening for any sounds of life. Content when she heard nothing Kayne stumbled in. From a causal glance it appeared the office of the man she had just run through. There was a desk piled high with folders and paper, a computer with all kinds of fancy wires and tubes coming from it. On one of the screens she saw what looked like security cameras, numerous figures walking before them. Kayne looked over the screens idly though found nothing that could help her. She couldn’t make sense of the writings, she wasn’t a doctor or a scientist so it was as good as Greek to her. She did find a chocolate power bar stuffed in a desk, which she greedily unwrapped and stuffed into her mouth. She chewed in an opened mouth, noisy fashion as she continued to explore. She found some filing cabinets and more paper. Just when she was about to give up and return to the hall a curious movement caught her attention. At first she thought it was someone else, that was until she found a pair of bruised colored eyes staring back at her. A mirror. She scoffed and finished the bar, tossed the wrapper aside and approached the mirror.
“Fuck me. I look like shit,” Kayne laughed at herself as she peered at the reflection. She combed back her matted hair, which fell back into place almost instantly. Her sharp, angular face had smudges of blood and grime, though otherwise was unmarred. Or so she thought, it was as her gaze drifted across her forehead that she noticed it. Just a small flick of discoloration against her brow, left of the middle and only an inch above her eyebrow; the undeniable mark of a bullet hole. She didn’t remember getting shot, but as squinted and touched it, the scar was unmistakable.
“We certainly know how to makes friends,” Kayne muttered to herself incredulously. Then something snapped, the word ‘friends’ the trigger. Her bruised gaze widened as Kayne stared at herself and it all began to come pouring back in a painful burst of remembering.
She remembered it all. Every heart wrenching moment.
]| Misfits: Kayne & Sparks - Consequences |[
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Intro: This is a continuation of the thread mentioned above. Kayne and Sparks are members of the the Team of Misfits (the group is referred by the Organization as Project: Misfit...so much for love). They undertook their first mission and failed miserably. This is the fall out of that failed mission.
Everything came back all at once in a blinding flash of reality. The first thing that registered in Kayne’s senses was pain. Absolute sheer agony that laced up her chest, a constant deep pressure that felt like she was being slowly torn apart, or at least something was trying to. The next thing she recovered was her sight; orbs of pure white snapped opened and bulged from their sockets. She found her voice, which started shortly after her dry lips parted in a silent cry of anguish. It soon caught up, rising as a shrill wail that filled the deafening silence that had surrounded her. There was light somewhere in the distance, dim and flickering yet providing enough light for her to take in her surroundings. It was the way the light played off the metal chain above her that caught her attention, despite the pure agony that coursed through her with every waking moment Kayne found it within herself to focus.
She was dead only moments ago, she knew that without truly comprehending the why or how. It wasn’t the first time though somewhere inside of her hoped it would be the last. Coming back had never been a pleasant experience; you could only claw yourself out of a body bag so many times before it really got lame. This time around she found herself in a different situation, never before had she felt such intense and unrelenting pain. Kayne knew that the next few moments were important, she would either figure out what was going on or die. She wasn’t entirely optimistic that she would come back from this one. So the androgynous woman drew upon that impressive willpower and did something she rarely ever did with it: she focused. Kayne took in a sharp, shaking breath and narrowed her gaze, focusing on the way the light flickered and danced on the metallic bits dangling above her. It was a chain, a thick metal chain that was somehow connected to her and the ceiling. The sleek muscles of her svelte frame twitched as she started to regain feeling, causing her focus to falter as the pain intensified. She grit her teeth, grinding them together and let out a feral growl as she fought to regain control.
“No,” She croaked, lifting her head so she could take in her surroundings fully. Kayne found herself dangling in the air, the weight of her frame suspended by the chain. She followed the chain back down to her body, only to find the reason for the excruciating pain. A massive hook protruded from her ribcage, just underneath her left breast. It was caked in dried blood; in fact most of her pale white figure was covered in the dark crust. That and ice. Wait. She was naked, why the fuck was she naked? The realization slowly dawned on her only to cloud her mind with far too many questions to comprehend at one time. How in the fuck did she get her? The sudden influx of thoughts started to work on Kayne’s focus and the pain began to creep back in. Her breathing was frantic and desperate; each breath caused another jolt of pain to cause her to twitch and spasm. That in itself only made it worse, the movements started to shift the hook inside her and Kayne felt a low, subtle trickle of warmth over her chest. She knew she was bleeding, reopening wounds that had closed around the hook. She had been hung up like a piece of fucking meat, left to rot or whatever sick intentions they had for her corpse. With the warmth of her fresh blood Kayne realized the numbness in her body wasn’t just from being suspended in the air. Her white gaze focused on the puffs of smoke that escaped with each ragged breath she took. Then came a laugh, a real bark of absurd laughter that shook her on the chain.
She was in a fucking meat locker! The thought was ridiculous; Kayne couldn’t help but laugh even as each chuckle made the agony all the worse.
She had to get off this hook, first and foremost. The thing was her limbs were barely working, by the time she decided on the task at hand a shaky right hand had risen from its dangling presence at her side. Her slender digits were covered in frost and black gore, she was going to need one hell of a manicure after this. The thought made Kayne grin, if only because the thought of her getting a manicure was just as utterly ridiculous as her hanging from a meat hook. She grasped at the chain, the muscles in her arm tensing and straining as she tugged. After a few moments of futile straining Kayne relented with a cry; the movement sent her swinging lightly on the chain and the pain to increase.
Get with it, girl. You get the fuck off this hook or fucking die here.
Kayne mentally berated herself and narrowed her gaze in concentration. She let herself settle from the swing before she attempted again. With a few heavy breaths she reached for the chain again, grasping it tightly with both hands and hefting. Her thew was impressive for such a skinny and sleek frame, the inner reserves of Kayne’s willpower just as impressive. Her grip was sure and she slowly but surely lifted herself up. All she had to do was get enough slack to pull the hook out and then, well she would figure that part out once she got there. First things first. Her voice waivered with grunts and growls as she hoisted herself up, finally gaining enough clearance to proceed; now for the tricky part. She held tightly to the chain with her right hand and slowly, subtly let go with the left. She grasped the hook and started to tug, though as she did her grip faltered. Maybe her strength was as impressive as she thought.
Kayne fell hard. The weight of her entire body pulled against her skin against the hook and if it hadn’t been pierced through her ribcage she would have torn fully free. If only she had been that lucky. As she hit the end of the length of chain the pain hit back like nothing she had felt before. She parted her lips to scream, but nothing came out. Silently she wailed in agony, lights flashing before her eyes before her vision threatened to falter entirely. The grip of sweet unconsciousness was sure a tempting offer, anything to be rid of this constant misery! If she did though it would be game over and there wouldn’t be any chances to retry. Kayne reassured herself this was her only chance; it was now or never, not later and maybe. She finally found her voice and let out a keening scream, swiftly focusing it in a bestial cry. Instead of absolute focus Kayne found the one thing in her she could always trust: her anger.
“Fuck.” She snarled, flinging her right hand out and grasping the chain.
“You!” She spat out venomously as she lashed out with her left and hoisted herself up a few inches.
“FUCK!” She roared, another few inches with her right. Her left hand followed soon after, wrapping about the chain length and drawing herself up several inches. With a grating hiss she grasped at the hook with her right hand, not wasting any time this time around. With numb fingers she twisted the hook and slid it out, just like removing it from a fish’s lip. She let out a feral scream as the pain tore through her, since she was all but ripping the hook from a fully healed wound. Her jaw set and she gritted her teeth, the strain causing the tendons in her neck to strain and bulge. She had it almost completely out of the wound when her strength finally faltered once again. This time when she fell Kayne kept going, the razor sharp barb of the hook tearing into the soft pale flesh at her side. It tore straight up the left side of her ribcage, a few inches to the side of her breast and straight up to her shoulder. Kayne screamed as she sliced herself open and plummeted to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes. She hit the concrete on her hip and tried to catch herself with her hands. They slipped on the icy crust and she smacked fully against it, her face half buried in only the Gods knew what. She couldn’t care about that, not now. Her blood was a vivid red even in the dim light, hot and drooling over her frame. It even smoked in the frigid air, which would have been pretty cool to see if it wasn’t happening to her. It was hard to gauge reality now, the pain was beyond measure and Kayne’s vision was slowly fading in and out. She was light headed, partially from the fall and the blood loss.
But hey, at least she was done. Now onto part two; getting the fuck out of Dodge.
Kayne heard the sound of a door opening by the time she stumbled to her feet. Heavy footsteps drew closer as she pushed up to her feet and stood covered in her own blood, naked and partially crusted over with ice. One hand clung to her wound, though it could do nothing to stem the flow of blood. Her hair was a ragged mess, a rat’s nest that poked out every which way, some of it crusted over and clinging to her skin as well. What a sight she made as the young man in a white labcoat approached with a clipboard in one hand and a flashlight in the other. The look on his face was comical as the light of his flashlight fell upon the svelte frame of Kayne’s. He faltered and stood motionless at the sight of the young woman, completely dumbstruck by what he was witnessing. Kayne’s typical bruised colored eyes were a pure, unearthly white now. Just two black pinpricks in a unmolested field of pure driven snow. Yet she had a face of a wounded predatory, sharp and fierce and angry. And now she was a wounded predator that had spotted prey. Every bit of logical thought ebbed away at the sight of this young man. He was of no threat to Kayne, even in her wounded state she could have laid the smack down without even trying. But he was alive, so warmth and his life force was literally throbbing in the air about him. She couldn’t see it as much as feel it, the palpable lifeforce that every living creature gave off. It was that lifeforce that Kayne drew sustenance from. Sure she could eat and drink like any normal human being, but she was a mutant, an offshoot psychic that drew on the lifeforce of others to sustain herself. Don’t use the V word around her though. No, never. In Kayne’s eyes he was a big, delicious cookie and she was the fat kid it was dangling in front of.
She moved on instinct, all rational thought long subsumed by the need to feed. She flashed her teeth in a vicious grin, much like she had done so long ago to a certain Leftenant in another life. Her breath came in ragged grunts as she took a trembling step forward.
“H-Hey! Wait!” The man finally snapped from his shock-induced daze. He raised the flashlight at her, as if shining the light in her eyes might stop her. He dropped the clipboard and reached for the radio at his side, but it was already too late. Kayne was on him with surprising quickness, in the blink of an eye she had him smashed against the door with so much force it stole the breath from his lungs. She growled and slobbered like some feral beast, her eyes that deathly white, devoid of any true human emotion. She was an animal, a wounded hungry animal. Animals survived on instinct, they did what they did without remorse or second thought. Kayne was hungry and this poor fuck was her can of Pringles. Yet the next few moments were what separated her from a true animal. She held him in place with a forearm against his chest, sneering at his youthful face before slamming her brow against his nose and shattering it. The man sputtered and screamed, his voice choked with fear and his own blood.
“I need you,” Kayne moaned suddenly, her voice crackling yet still holding an undeniable huskiness to it. It was the tone of a needy lover, crawling up slowly and temptingly, begging to have their desires sated. He tried to struggle, grasping at Kayne’s forearm as if to pry it away. But all he found was steely resolve and eyes that promised death. His flailing only angered her, to which she violently shoved him back against the door once more. The back of his head connected with the metal, giving a dull metallic thump. The man groaned weakly and collapsed, his legs giving out entirely. Kayne let him go, her white eyes following him the entire way. With a deliberate slowness to her movements she slid down over him, straddling his waist and bunching the material of his shirt in her grasp. With her other hand she gave him a vicious slap across his cheek, strong enough to snap his head to the side and send his mind reeling.
“I need you,” She repeated in a steadfast murmur. The animalistic nature slowly faded as she started to fed, drinking in the terror and the pain that emanated from him with each beat of his heart. They were just an appetizer, enough to give her the strength to focus on the task at hand. Those white orbs flickered and the color within them shifted into a disgusting bruise while a sinister little smirk tugged at the left side of her thin lips. She brought her free hand between them, fingers outstretched before curling inward. Slowly the shadow coalesced into the shape of a dagger, its handle thick and the blade so thin it was almost imperceptible when viewed from the side. Kayne brandished it with practice easy, wielding it as much as an implement of terror as a weapon of war.
“P-Please!” The man finally sputtered the first real word he had said. “I have a kid…a family!” His voice was strained with fear; Kayne savored every syllable, drinking in the tangible emotion with a disturbing glee. She leaned in closer, drawing the tip of the dagger up against his cheek, silencing the pitiful begging.
“Good.” She said lowly, drawing the edge of the dagger down across his cheek, leaving a gash in its wake. The man cried out and started to struggle, Kayne only dug deeper and drew the blade down across his jaw.
“I want you to think of them while you die. Look at me,” She said with the hard edge of a killer. There was no remorse or hesitation in those cold eyes or in her knife work. She drew several more bloody lines across his face, relishing cries as much as the exquisite sensation his pain brought. All too quickly she sliced his shirt and poised the tip of the blade against his chest, right above his heart.
“Look at me!” She demanded, grasping his hair with her free hand and slamming it against the door once more. He whimpered and fought, meeting that disturbing gaze, his own glazed in fear. Kayne took her sweet time slipping the blade between his ribcage; the dagger could have easily finished him off before he realized his flesh had been cut. Yet to properly feed on his draining life energy, Kayne had to draw out the pain. She had learned early on how to do this, to draw it out and then finally finish the job. At the point of death a person’s potential life energies doubled, if it happened to coincided with a intense (often times tragic and brutal) death it could even triple or quadruple. It wasn’t an exact science, but Kayne had a lot of practice. It wasn’t the first time she watched the life fade from a man’s eyes and as she absorbed that amassing lifeforce, she sure hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
Kayne had experienced a lot of things in her short life. She drank to excess, took almost every kind of drug imaginable and had tried many things sexually that would make the most jaded masochist blanch. But nothing had ever come close to this, there was no drug, no drink or experience that could come close to the bliss that taking another life could offer. It was an orgy of all the senses, Kayne trembled and moaned in ecstasy as she took in the intangible energy escaping the dying body. It was all very anti-climactic, at least visually. She wasn’t some Scotsmen from the movies slicing off each other’s heads and flying up in the air. The process was invisible to the naked eye save the obvious affect upon the lithesome frame. Kayne clung to the corpse, pressed a palm against the door frame and shook. It left her breathless and reeling, her body tingled as it would after a fitful bout of coupling, her stomach felt full and content and the pain of her wounds all but disappeared. It was an unconscious act to heal herself, the nasty gash on her torso slowly knitted and closed, leaving another new scar under the gore.
Kayne knelt there for several minutes, taking deep breaths and simply enjoying and reveling in her kill. It was the first time since she had awoken that she felt as close to normal as she could. With a huff she pushed up off the corpse and stretched, her arms curling above her head as she arched her back. The chill of the cooler started to creep back in and Kayne looked about for something to cover herself with. Her clothing was nowhere to be seen, or anything else that might tell her just where she was. She checked the corpse and found nothing of interest, so she tugged the lab coat off the body and threw it about her proud shoulders. With a renewed interest she began to explore her surroundings. She was indeed in some kind of meat locker, though it wasn’t sides of beef that hung from the hooks. There were corpses hanging from them as far as the eye could see, which albeit wasn’t very far. They disappeared into the darkness as Kayne turned and searched the nearby racks, only to find a choice selection of body parts. She picked up one forearm with its hand still attached and gave it a curious glance.
“Sup buddy? Need a hand?” She asked, clasping her palm against the frigid piece of meat in a macabre high-five before she tossed it back onto the rack. Why the hell was she in a meat locker? Kayne strained to find a reason, though she wound up with more questions than answers. She couldn’t recall much at the time, but that wasn’t as strange as it might sound. The last two times she had died she awoke with a similar case of amnesia, the last few days or months of her life a complete blank. She vaguely recalled doing something for someone, there were a lot of other people around and she was pretty damn sure she was wearing pants. Finding little else of interest besides more cadavers Kayne returned to the exit and her meal. She pushed aside the limp body and shoved the door open, the rush of air from the mixing temperatures causing her hair to whip about her cheeks. She emerged in a dimly lit hallway, nondescript and smelling of mold. Her numb feet shuffled against the ground as she trekked down the hallway. One hand tugged at the bloody lab coat about her, which offered only a scrap of modesty but at least provided some warmth. She walked past several closed and locked doors until she found one that was open, a bright light shining from within. She paused briefly near the entrance, listening for any sounds of life. Content when she heard nothing Kayne stumbled in. From a causal glance it appeared the office of the man she had just run through. There was a desk piled high with folders and paper, a computer with all kinds of fancy wires and tubes coming from it. On one of the screens she saw what looked like security cameras, numerous figures walking before them. Kayne looked over the screens idly though found nothing that could help her. She couldn’t make sense of the writings, she wasn’t a doctor or a scientist so it was as good as Greek to her. She did find a chocolate power bar stuffed in a desk, which she greedily unwrapped and stuffed into her mouth. She chewed in an opened mouth, noisy fashion as she continued to explore. She found some filing cabinets and more paper. Just when she was about to give up and return to the hall a curious movement caught her attention. At first she thought it was someone else, that was until she found a pair of bruised colored eyes staring back at her. A mirror. She scoffed and finished the bar, tossed the wrapper aside and approached the mirror.
“Fuck me. I look like shit,” Kayne laughed at herself as she peered at the reflection. She combed back her matted hair, which fell back into place almost instantly. Her sharp, angular face had smudges of blood and grime, though otherwise was unmarred. Or so she thought, it was as her gaze drifted across her forehead that she noticed it. Just a small flick of discoloration against her brow, left of the middle and only an inch above her eyebrow; the undeniable mark of a bullet hole. She didn’t remember getting shot, but as squinted and touched it, the scar was unmistakable.
“We certainly know how to makes friends,” Kayne muttered to herself incredulously. Then something snapped, the word ‘friends’ the trigger. Her bruised gaze widened as Kayne stared at herself and it all began to come pouring back in a painful burst of remembering.
She remembered it all. Every heart wrenching moment.
