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imnobodysson:
Murphy hesitates, caught off guard because most of the people he works with are guys. His suspicions are only momentary as she’s clearly his contact. He doesn’t care who does the work, as long as someone takes the car apart. “Yeah, sorry I’m late. Whatever parts you can get, they’ll take. Apparently, there’s a high demand for parts from shitty cars like this.”
He tosses her the stolen keys then hesitates, tilting his head. “Tonight? I thought it’d take at least a couple of days. How am I even supposed to get the parts out of here? I can’t exactly drive them away.”
His disappointment is evident with his dejected frown. He should have known the job was too good. Of course, things had to get complicated because nothing could ever just be easy in his life. “Come on. You can at least keep it here until tomorrow, right?”
There's a raise of an eyebrow at his words and a part of her wants to laugh a little but she suppresses the urge to do so. Instead, she simply reaches up with a hand, running fingers over hair that's already put back in a ponytail as she walks around the Civic, catching the keys that are tossed to her and pocketing them. She easily pops the hood, using the jack to hold it up and in place, her light blue gaze looking over what's on the inside. It's not bad. The car has some pretty good guts to it, nothing broken and upon first look, nothing seemed to be leaking either.
"Call a taxi." She offers with a shrug, a side motion of her head to the desk at the front of the building where a phonebook sat unused in a drawer. Did she feel bad for the guy? Not particularly. She didn't sign up to keep a stolen car in her possession after she was done with it. Not to mention, the shop was full and she had nowhere to keep the shell that it would be left with.
Then a thought hits her, feet carrying her to the closest work bench with her tools set up upon them, as she gathers a couple that she needs before turning around to look at him again. "I'll make you a deal." She starts, heading back to the Civic to get to work on the inside of what's under the hood before possibly lifting her up and seeing what's on the undercarriage. "After I'm done with her, I'll call you the taxi and I'll even load everything up all nice and pretty in boxes for you and even help you load." Rylan offers, a small smile growing across her features as she starts to take apart the engine.
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| Megan Fox as Mikaela Banes in Transformers (2007) |
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝕾𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖒 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊 and over to his car, Rosalie finally stopped giving him a hard time about being on schedule, falling silent to allow Salem to smoke his cigarette in the quiet hours of what remained of the morning. It would likely be the only sliver of peace that he would get for the rest of the day, as the evening would be spent sandwiched between the witch and the woman that he’d cursed. So far, she didn’t seem too bad, but it wasn’t as though he’d gotten the chance to speak with her much to really build much of an opinion. She’d clearly been too scared to utter more than a few stammered questions in his direction, and he hadn’t done anything to pry anything else from her. He still didn’t even know her name.
Salem had just been finishing up the last of his cigarette when his captive had come strolling out from the motel room, his gaze shifting over to meet her bright blues. He was glad that she hadn’t made him come in after her, and even more glad that she hadn’t tried to run away. Despite knowing very little about her, he’d at least been able to give her a point for not being stupid enough to try that.
Dropping his cigarette and grinding it into the pavement with a few twists of his boot, Salem nodded and climbed into the vehicle. ❝ Do you drink coffee? ❞ He asked her once she’d taken up occupancy of the passenger seat next to him. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t do without it, but if given the option, he would always start his days off with coffee and a cigarette. It was the little things, really, especially in a miserable life like his.
If the woman had wanted one, Salem would have obliged on the way through the nearest drive-thru, offering her something to eat as well. For himself, he’d only ordered a coffee; three cream, three sugar. From there, it was a straight shot to the airport, but he wouldn’t allow her to leave the vehicle until he’d set some very strict guidelines for her to follow.
After the car had been parked, Salem turned to look at her. ❝ Alright, so this is the plan. See that carrier back there? ❞ He gestured with a tattooed thumb to the small pet crate in the back seat. ❝ I’m going to get in there and you’re going to board the plane with me. The information is on the tickets; they’re in the glove box, along with your fake passport. You shouldn’t be surprised by now about the shit that I can do, but I guess I’ll still prepare you in advance by telling you that I’ll be turning myself into a cat. ❞ He paused, but only for a moment. ❝ If you look at somebody funny, you die. If you try to ask somebody for help, you die. If you try to run, you die. If you do anything that will even remotely throw a wrench in my plans, you die. That clear? ❞
A breath and despite everything inside of her, she had listened to her captor. That was thing, wasn't it? Fear had made a person do things. It made them stay or it made them cower for their life, crying uncontrollably and to the point of wanting to do something stupid. She had seen the movies, of course, and the way people would run away only to make things worse for themselves. She already knew she was probably going to die at the end of this but that didn't mean she had to make stupid moves to hurry that up. Maybe Salem truly did mean what he said but she had nothing trust him off of. Nothing proved that his word was absolute and that she'd get to go home with a story to tell her friends.
There's a raise of an eyebrow at his question of coffee and she simply nods at the thought. She hadn't realized how hungry she actually was until her stomach started to growl in an angry protest over having barely ate the last few days, too busy and set on getting that car back at the shop finished on time. Ah, what a thought that felt light years away now. Another breath and she starts to fidget with the jeans she had put on that morning, pulling a little at the denim fabric that clung to her legs as any form of a distraction than the panic that had settled itself in the back of her throat. The only other time she had spoke was when they stopped in the drive thru, asking for a coffee, black, one cream, and a breakfast sandwich to cause her stomach to shut the fuck up.
There's a small sigh of relief when they stop at the airport. The idea of being surrounded by perfect strangers was almost intoxicating in a sense. He wouldn't try anything to harm her with a shit ton of witnesses, would he? But at his words, she feels the panic grow a little bit more intense and her confusion only becoming coupled with such. "A-A cat?" It's all she can manage for a few minutes, her mind trying to process it. "I get it though. I won't do anything stupid. This ride will be easy." She nods, trying her best to sound confident as she reaches forward to open the glove box and retrieve the tickets and passport from inside. "Um, do you want me to look away while you transform?" She feels awkward, scared and nervous. She has to sell this the best she can, walking through security when it's time. How good of an actor can you be, Rylan? Better hope it's sellable.
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imnobodysson:
closed starter for @mechbeaut
Murphy lets the car idle on the quiet street. He double-checks the address of the garage then glances at the clock. It’s well past midnight, and there’s not a soul in sight. He takes a deep breath and hopes this isn’t some sting. It would suck if he went to the trouble of finding the right make and model of car and stealing it, just to have the cops circle him with their flashing red lights now. He accelerates slowly and almost expects to hear sirens.
However, he pulls into the garage without incident and puts the car in park. He takes the key from the ignition as he gets out of the car. It’s still quiet, and he takes a hesitant step, still praying he doesn’t get arrested that night. He’s a little late, and he hopes he didn’t miss the window of opportunity to unload the Honda Civic because he needs to get paid. His boss doesn’t pay him if no one takes the car.
“Hey, anyone home? I could uh, use an oil change.”
Earbuds pump beats out of their inner speakers as she grabs a towel from one of the work benches closer to her. She has a small smile upon her glossed lips as she takes a step back, hands moving to clean grease from them. She's proud of her work, normally is. After all, she had been working on this engine for the last two days and it was finally finished. It purred like a kitten and there wasn't a leak in sight, which would only make it's owner that much more happier, considering it would spill oil each time it ran.
Once hands are wiped clean, she reaches up and removes her left earbud just in time to hear the other's voice. Ah yes, Rylan's side job had finally arrived. Something that she was still questioning as to why she had agreed to work in but the money was promising, something she needed for Max's college tuition fees and for her to get a new place and out of her mother's house and depressive cloud that never seemed to dissipate.
"About time you showed up." Rylan smiles at him, tossing the towel back on a different work bench as she approaches the Honda Civic, an eyebrow raising slightly. "So what exactly do you need from her? And I hope you've got time to sit and wait. It won't take long but i'd rather get her done tonight and send her off than have her sit here in a shop she's not supposed to be in."
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕹𝖔𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 that night, the room falling into complete silence after the woman had finally managed to pass out in the bed adjacent to his own. Salem was more than content with the quiet, his own thoughts drifting back to his phone screen while he scrolled through various media. It wasn’t long until he’d allowed himself to pass out too, however, his black-painted eyelids falling shut as he’d slipped off into a dream.
Rosalie had awoken him before the sun came out, his silver-colored gaze settling on the sleeping woman on the other bed shortly after he’d managed to sit himself up. ❝ Yeah, I know. Shut the fuck up, I’ve got it, ❞ he grumbled quietly in response to the witch’s prompting in his head. His footsteps then carried him into the bathroom, where he took five minutes to get himself ready to leave, before he’d awoken his captive with a gentle shake.
❝ Wake up, ❞ Salem told her, his voice no longer hushed in tone. ❝ You’ve got ten minutes to get ready. I’ll meet you in the car. ❞ He said nothing else before he left the room to light up a cigarette outside.
So this hadn't all been a dream, had it? She groans a little at Salem's words, eyelids flickering open to see him walk out the door just in time before she allows herself to draw a deep breath. She had hoped this was a dream. Hoped that when she awoke that morning, she'd be back in her actual bed, surrounded by dim light and the stuffed elephant that always resided next to her in her bed, but no, that wasn't the case and she had only groaned once more.
The hotel room had felt smaller than it had last night. She throws the blankets off of her, grabbing the makeup and other items and heading into the bathroom. Ten minutes, he had said? Easy. She could finish in five, having perfected her morning routine before heading out the door to take Max to school and herself to work. Once she had finished getting dressed and the natural look of makeup, Rylan had placed everything else in a bag with the other stuff she had gotten yesterday before heading out the door. How she wished she could plug in her earbuds and lose herself to music for a long nap to a short death she still assumed was coming.
"Ready." Rylan yawns a little, unable to fight the sensation as she climbs into the passenger seat of Salem's vehicle. England, that's what he had said last night was their destination, right? Perhaps it was the fact she was exhausted still, her body felt weak, her fear still strong in her bones but she had wanted to know where exactly in England they were going. What was this curse going to entail? A human sacrifice in a cave hidden under London's streets? Would she at least get to see the city a bit before he drug her off for whatever means were needed?
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JENNIFER’S BODY (2009) dir. Karyn Kusama
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she’s been writing for minutes now :/
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉 was given as he acknowledged the woman’s concerns, Salem’s eerily-pale gaze never leaving her, even while she flicked through the channels on the television. There wasn’t any part of him that blamed her for feeling on-edge or afraid for her life, as he knew better than to think that some simple words of assurance would actually be enough to calm her nerves; especially coming from him, the man who cursed her. He couldn’t recall there ever being a time that he’d ever feared for his own life, but he knew that such a worry existed among mortals. He knew all too well how fragile and brief their lives were.
When she’d offered him the option of changing the channel, Salem only shrugged, falling silent for a few drawn-out moments before he’d brought up the previous topic. ❝ If everything goes right, you’ll live. Just do what I tell you to do and don’t try to make anything harder for me, and you’ll get to go home. It really is that simple, ❞ he explained, his voice calm and soft. ❝ I have no interest in killing you. It wouldn’t do me any good, ❞ he added.
Salem’s head turned then, the back of it finding his pillow as his gaze returned to his phone screen. However, he continued. ❝ Seriously, you should try to get some sleep. This is going to be hellish for you as it is without you being exhausted. Sleep. ❞
The reassurance had been obvious to her but her fear refused to admit it was there. She wanted to start shaking again. To silently cry herself to sleep that night, even if it meant she only sleep two hours tops. She hadn't cared. She wanted to go home and hear Max's voice. To get a hug from him and to hear Addison's concern and cussing her out for not calling her to tell her she was fine. Rylan wanted everything that meant not being in this room with Salem, the man that not only cursed her, but captured her.
She swallows at his words, a slight nod answering him before her gaze looks up in time to see him looking back to his phone. He really didn't seem to care about the situation. As if this had all been normal to him. How many others had he kidnapped and cursed besides her? What made her the lucky one? No, this wasn't luck, it was stupidity and the fact that she was feeding the idea of survival? She was surely going to die.
"Okay." The word is spoke in a whisper as Rylan tucks the top of the blanket under her chin, the TV's volume going down to an almost unheard level as the people on the screen's mouths moved wordlessly, shifting to a man giving the weather repeat for the rest of the evening and well into the morning. Her eyes shift back to him, back to the screaming woman tattoo before she finally realizing just how exhausted her body is, eyes falling closed then. "Okay." She says again, this time, the word was barely auditable as sleep over takes her.
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 had left Salem a little puzzled, his gaze falling on her with a quirk of his brow before she’d disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Why she was thanking him for such a thing, he didn’t know, but even more curious was her choice of the word ’yet.’ He wasn’t sure if it was the beginning of Stockholm syndrome or if she was simply nervously blathering, but he paid it little more thought after she’d become hidden from view.
When the woman entered the bedroom again, Salem was laying down on one of the beds, his upper body free of clothing to reveal the various tattoos that covered his pale flesh. Perhaps the most noticeable was one that covered his ribcage; the screaming face of a woman, with the words ’enjoy the suffering’ carved into her features. It was one strange tattoo among many others.
Looking up from his phone after the woman had re-entered the room, he nodded at her request, a shrug of his shoulders following. ❝ Sure. Do whatever you want, ❞ he answered, sitting up to then toss her the television remote. He wasn’t the least bit surprised by her request, as he could understand why she would be afraid of the dark after what he’d put her through, but he had no reason to deny her it.
❝ You think I’m gonna kill you in your sleep or something? ❞ He asked, a faint smile pulling at his pierced lips. ❝ You do realize that I need you alive, right? Calm down. You’ll be home before you know it. ❞
She looks up the moment the remote lands next to her upon the bed, slowly sinking down into the blankets after propping up the pillows behind her. She shifts, curling up on her side and facing him as he speaks. There's a raise to her eyebrow just then at his words, home before she knew it? Did that mean he truly was going to let her go and wasn't just saying such a thing? Was he really going to spare her life when he got what he wanted out of her?
"I'm just....not expecting to survive this." Rylan admits truthfully. Did that make her a fool for believing she was going to die or was that expected of a person after they had been kidnapped? She reaches for the remote, flipping through a few different channels then until she lands on thew news, nothing really capturing her attention but it was enough to cause her to stop here, to know she wasn't going to find anything better.
Blue eyes shift from the TV to him. Gaze soft as she curls in tighter upon herself. Her gaze dropping, looking over the plethora of tattoos that lined his body and she bites at the inside of her lip. She's terrified, yes, but she's finally in a position to look at him. To really take him in instead of just praying that he wouldn't murder her where she stood. "I can turn." It was the first thing to come to her mind, despite the fact her eyes didn't move from him, her gaze resting upon the face of a woman screaming.
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 fell over the vehicle after the woman had finished questioning him, Salem did his best not to break it. He was more than content to drive in the absence of conversation, his thoughts elsewhere and far from the car that he resided in with the shaken-up victim of his curse. It wasn’t until they’d reached a quiet, twenty-four hour department store that he’d finally spoken again, relaying some instructions for the blue-eyed woman before he’d led her inside and allowed her to pick out some essential pieces and supplies. Clothing, hygiene products, make-up. He wasn’t overly-concerned with the price, so long as she had what she needed to remain relatively inconspicuous during their short travels.
After they’d finished up at the department store and Salem had completed the transaction, he drove a few miles out of the city and stopped for the night at a small, secluded motel. The concierge that had checked them in had given him a couple of strange glances, looking back and forth between him and the woman that he was with. ❝ What? ❞ Salem had questioned him. ❝ You think she’s too pretty for me or something? ❞ He scoffed out a quiet laugh, taking the key off of the counter after it was placed atop it, his middle finger raising then to flip the man off as he made his exit.
Once in the room, Salem locked the door behind them. ❝ Alright, go ahead and get yourself cleaned up, ❞ he began, gesturing towards the bathroom. ❝ Our flight leaves early tomorrow morning, so make it snappy so that you can get some sleep. ❞
What had it been? Her blood? The way her family was? What had caused her to be the one to survive this curse like he had said? She remembers the pain and how it was crumbling. How she wanted nothing more than to rip her insides out with her fingernails and make it stop. She wanted to scream. To escape it however was possible but she knew that wasn't going to happen and once it had subsided? Then hell came to her with an open door. Was this what those victims in the horror movies felt when they watched hope slowly slipping away? Perhaps. How she wished Addison was here to help her and to set Salem straight. Her best friend always knew what to do and the right things to say. Rylan was nothing more than a scared rabbit hiding in the corner of it's caged nightmare.
At the department store, she did her best to remain normal, following his instructions, she picks out a few different outfits, under garments, socks, things for hygiene and make-up to help tie everything together. The cashier was nice enough, despite the fact the two were relatively quiet and Rylan rather enjoyed the fact that the woman behind the counter didn't ask anything nor try to make small talk. Each were there for something and each wanted to leave before they probably could, at least, that's how Rylan was assessing the situation as Salem paid for everything she had picked out.
At the motel, however, that was a different story and the calm part of her wanted to laugh when she thought about how Salem had answered the man behind the counter before taking the key to the room. Was she too pretty for him? Was he too different for her? She hadn't thought about it. Had really cared enough for it to cross her mind, considering she was scared shitless and had still be expecting this man to kill her the moment the door shut behind her but instead, surprise filters over her at his words. "Y-Yeah, okay." She starts, placing the bags on an empty bed before grabbing the hygiene products and what she had chose to sleep in for the rest of the night. "Uh." She stops at the bathroom door, turning to look at him. "Thanks for not killing me yet." And before he can answer, she disappears behind the door, shutting it tightly and locking it without second thought.
As she steps out, hangs gripping the towel before drying off her body, she takes a moment to breathe. What the fuck had just happened to her in the span of such a short few hours? What was still happening to her? She was in a motel room with a strange man who could kill her with the snap of his fingers and was claiming she was cursed. He proved that there was things she obviously had only thought existed in the movies and that had only caused her fear to elevate as she finished drying off, slipping on undergarments, a tank top and a pair of sweats before drying her hair. Blue gaze looks at herself in the mirror as she draws a deep breath, walking out of the bathroom and letting her gaze rest on her captor. "um. Would it be okay if we slept with the tv on? It can be muted, I'd just...like the light." Voice holds stronger now that she's showered and cleaned up than when he had first met her, even as she's crawling into the bed closest to the wall. She was going to try to sleep but if it failed her, at least she'd have the moving screen of the tv to keep her mind busy.
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We will all laugh at gilded butterflies
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖕 had been silent, the rolling of the tires over the pavement and the soft hum of an old engine the only noises to break the silence of the near-soundless night. It wasn’t until the woman next to him had spoken up with the preface of another incoming question that a conversation was sparked, although Salem wasn’t sure how long-lived it would be given the grim circumstances. It wasn’t as though he was opposed to conversing with her, but he didn’t know if he had much to say, and he had a strong feeling that her utter shock and fear would leave her with even less of a conversational leg to stand on. Alas…
❝ My name? Not sure why it matters, ❞ Salem began with a soft laugh, his frosty gaze momentarily leaving the road to glance next to him at the woman. He thought about questioning her on her reasonings, but it didn’t take him long to convince himself that digging for her rationality likely wasn’t worth his time when he just didn’t care anyways. ❝ Salem. ❞ His attention shifted back to the road as he signaled and took a right turn, his posture still incredibly relaxed, despite the tension that the situation should have held for the average person.
❝ You don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to, ❞ Salem added, just incase she’d felt so inclined to start divulging information in the name of being polite. At the end of the day, she was just a body to him. A nameless face that he’d forget as soon as he was done with her.
-
Random selection had sounded like a joke. A thing that only existed in horror movies that she'd watch with Max or a group of friends on a dark night to get a good scare. Yet, when he mentions her not having to say her name to him, she realizes just how true his earlier words were. She really had been selected randomly by whatever curse he had placed on her. So this was going to be her fate? Unbelief shakes her to the core. When did such a life that was meant to be average and normal, as average and normal as it was supposed to be for, become a movie scene being played out to whatever was sitting in the sky and below the earth, watching them? Was this some cruel joke? Was Ashton Kutcher going to come out of wherever he was taking her to get cleaned up and tell her that she was being punked? Surely this was all just a ruse.
A breath and her gaze shifts from to look out the window. Salem. She repeats his name inside of her head, a thing she did so she wouldn't forget something. Salem. Her first thought is the cat from a show she used to watch with Addison, her favorite childhood show that she made Rylan watch too. She mentally shakes her head. Salem. So that was going to be the last name she'd probably say out loud without ushering her silent goodbyes to the people that actually mattered. Rylan raises her hands, one moving to the sun visor, pulling it down to finally look at her reflection, something she had been avoiding in the side mirror out the window. Tired blue eyes stare back at her and she has to swallow down the lump that forms inside of her throat again. She said she'd stop crying, so she can't start again, no matter how terrified she really was.
Eyes drift shut for a moment and she draws a deep breath into lungs. She's trying not to stare at him, instead just giving him glances here and there on this now quiet, night of a drive. She moves her hands, wiping at the mascara and eyeliner just under the brim of her eyes. She doesn't want to walk in somewhere and get questioned. After all, she wants nothing to speed up the death she feels is currently inevitable in the presence of this man. Though, as she closes the sun visor and pushes it back up, she finds herself scooting closer to the door, gaze drifting to him as her breath stutters a little in her chest. Why her? What made her so special? Why was she different compared to the others he's supposedly done this to? This had to be a joke.
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 into the passenger’s seat, Salem circled around the hood of the vehicle and took up occupancy behind the wheel, not bothering to put his seatbelt on before he’d started the engine and pulled away from the curb. He’d been trying his best to kill himself for well over two-hundred years, so he was fully confident that it wouldn’t be a fucking car accident that would have him pushing daisies. If only he could be so lucky…
The question that the woman had asked was answered after a long pause, as Salem had needed to think of the easiest route to an explanation first. ❝ I’m taking you shopping so that you can pick out some clothes, and then we’re going to a motel so that you can get cleaned up, ❞ he began, figuring it was best to give her the short-term plans initially rather than just slamming her with the bigger picture. After all, telling her that she was going to the Underworld would probably elicit a scream or another sobbing fit, and he didn’t want to hear it.
❝ We’re going to leave for the airport in the morning and head to the UK. Probably better if you don’t ask too many questions though. You’ll just overwhelm yourself. ❞ Salem continued, his icy gaze remaining trained on the road ahead of them as the headlights cut through the blackness of the night, one tattooed hand on the wheel while his other rested against the doorframe.
-
A breath and she's still shaking, even as she's sitting in the passenger seat, seatbelt on for the protection but also as a motion that felt normal and right now, she needed normal. Though, she did make note of how he sat, without one and so relaxed as if this wasn't the first time he had shown off an ability that should've only existed in movies and kidnapped a young woman in the middle of the night. People would figure out she's missing, wouldn't they? They'd try to call her phone, at least Addison and Max would, especially when she didn't show up the next morning. Rylan already knew that her father probably wouldn't care. He had long ago let his desire for a baby girl leave him and she was just another memory of his ex-wife that never left him.
As this man speaks, she watches him, taking in every word he says as if she's reading a book and wants to memorize it's pages. Getting cleaned up sounded like a blessing, considering the blood that had spilled from her lips, the dirt, dust and oil that her clothing had soaked up when she had hit the floor of the garage and she didn't need a mirror to tell her how her hair and makeup looked, she could imagine the wreck she had become in just such a short amount of time. Rylan nods though, not saying much else just yet. The UK? That was different. She'd never been out of country and as much as she wanted to be excited for it, she couldn't. The fear was overwhelming and like a sandbag inside of her, weighing down every part of her body but she had seen enough movies to know how this kidnapping thing could go. If this was going to be her last night, then maybe it was time for silent amends.
"One more question then." A pause and she looks away from him for the first time since their drive had started. She's taking in the interior of the vehicle. The dashboard, the door paneling. The way the seats looked and the way the middle console sat. This was her comfort zone. She knew cars like she knew the back of her hand. Like she knew every little thing about her favorite ice cream down to the T. She could use this to keep herself steady and sane during the ride. "What's your name?" The question comes just above a whisper. It was her last question for now, she already got an answer to everything else and she didn't want to see this guy's bad side but if he was meant to take her life, she wanted to know the name of the person she was going to be seeing last.
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕻𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖓𝖔 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 that was spilling out from between her trembling lips, Salem made his way over towards the back entrance, waiting for the woman to catch up before he’d shut it behind them. The music was left playing and the blood-stains remained on the concrete floor, leaving an eerie ambience for the morning shift to walk into the following day. It was the least of his concerns.
As he approached his vehicle, Salem noticed that the woman was crying. It was to be expected, he supposed, but he hoped that he wouldn’t have to listen to her sniveling the entire trip. A soft sigh left his pierced lips and he gave a small tilt of his head.
❝ Hey. Stop crying, will you? ❞ Salem asked, his voice soft and yet somehow still so frigid and cold. He approached her, taking a step in her direction after she’d neared the car. ❝ This is going to be a really long ride if you keep doing that. ❞ Tattooed fingers scratched the back of his head as he spoke, his pale, silvery gaze on the woman’s tear-stained face. ❝ Just get in the car. ❞
-
She can do this. She can listen to him and do as he says and not panic. She can swallow it and keep going and if she couldn't? She didn't have a choice. His threats seemed to ring true and she had people she needed to live for. That was the thing, wasn't it? When facing a life threatening situation one always realized where they stood with Fate. Rylan draws a deep, shaky breath at his words, take a moment to calm herself the best she can, nodding just then. "S-Sorry." She stutters, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks just then, blinking multiple times to try and get ahold of her emotions. She wished she had her phone. She wished she had a weapon and finally, she wished she had taken Addison up on going out tonight instead of deciding to work late and get the vehicle finished she had promised to be done the next morning.
Fear is a gripping thing. Like an animal after it's sunk it's teeth into flesh. The marks it leaves are long lasting and the effect it gives is even worse. She simply moves towards the car door, gaze still on him, which causes her to stumble a little over her feet. She doesn't trust him, then again, she doesn't think she'll be able to. Not after the things he's said to her or how he whisked her breath away in such a manner. Would death have been better? No, surely not. It was only a matter of days and she'd be free of this curse with a story to tell, right? That was the deal but who said she could trust him?
Hand reaches for the door handle of the vehicle, pulling at it gently. "Where-Where are you going to take me?" She wants to know what the last thing she'll probably see before death takes her soul. Had he meant what he said? Was this man really going to let her go if she just listened to him? What would Addison have done in this situation? Probably punch him and try to run, but she wasn't like that. Her fear is what kept her stuck on the ground and what dragged her forward when he told her to move. She felt strange, like being used but at the same time, she couldn't feel anything else except the obvious. One thing was for certain, however, she didn't wish to talk far more than she needed to. No need to push this guy's buttons when she didn't even know his name.
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grihm:
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒ 𝕾𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖒 𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 the thrill of the curses’ success cloud his humanity, but it wasn’t as though there was much left of it to cloud anyways. The man had become unbelievably sour and caustic during his lifetime, and so the shreds of benevolence and empathy that he still hung onto now only came out in short, coaxed-out bursts. Tunnel vision always tended to make him considerably more unpleasant as well, which was exactly what was happening now, as he gazed down at the writhing woman on the garage floor.
❝ I’ll give you a moment to catch your breath before I drag you out of here. ❞ Salem told her, watching as she tried to pat herself down to find her phone. He’d already seen the device and confiscated it when she’d not been looking, completely frying it with a small pulse of black magic. ❝ But I’m going to need you to hush for a while so I can explain things, otherwise I’m going to have to force that pretty mouth of yours shut the hard way, ❞ he added with the raise of his eyebrows, the smallest wave of his hand and bend of his wrist conjuring a spell that forced all of the air out of the small female’s lungs, rendering her entirely speechless and completely silent. He released his grip on her after only a few moments, as he was only trying to warn her of what he was capable of, and he hoped that she had the sense to keep quiet without any further imposed limitations.
A tattooed finger was lifted to his pierced lips, a soft ❝ Shh, ❞ leaving them to further emphasize his instructions before he continued. ❝ I know it seems hard to believe, but I’m not here to hurt you. Not unless you make me. As you can see, I’m not opposed to it. Doesn’t exactly go against my moral compass or anything. ❞ A small laugh followed and then he clapped his hands together once. ❝ You see, I’ve cursed you. Long story short, I’m after something very important and this was a necessary step in the direction of getting it. You, my dear, just happen to be the unfortunate victim of random selection. Wrong place, wrong time. ❞ He shrugged.
Salem paced around the room while he spoke, his steps slow and methodical. He had stopped looking at her by now, but Rosalie’s eyes were ever watchful. ❝ In four days, you’ll be dead. I can make it less if you don’t cooperate though, so I suggest that you get up off of that floor and follow me. If you help me get what I need, I’ll break the curse and you can walk away with only a few scratches and a really freaky story to tell your friends. Cool? ❞
-
Lips part to start to protest. Why would she ever agree to a strange man's demands, especially after what she had just gone through? Who did this guy think he was and why did he seem to act like he was on such a high horse? But her mouth is closed and she wants to gasp for breath suddenly but she can't and panic rises in her chest faster than it had when the pain had first hit her. Who was he? There's no way this was real. She must be dreaming, right? If she were to pinch herself, she'd surely awake from this dream turned nightmare that felt so damn real. She listens but as he speaks, she tries to pinch her thigh. Once. Twice. A third time and harder each time, none of the attempts whisking her out of this nightmare that she's found herself in, but she's nodding. Tears still falling and the rational part of her brain has told her to listen to him. To not argue and to go with him. When it came to threatening her life she was torn between fighting and giving in. What could she do against this man? Especially in a state that made her so weak? Throw a wrench at him and hope for the best? If he was able to make her feel like she was choking with whatever fucked up magic that he did to her, who knew what he could if she tried to throw a wrench at him. Not to mention how weak she still felt.
"S-So if I do this..." She trails off, pushing herself to her feet, still heavily shaking from fear and pain, using the closest work bench to steady herself, her gaze shifting to rest upon him as he paces the shop floor in front of her. She felt disgusting. She wanted to escape, not just because she wanted a shower, but because she was scared. This man had clearly proven he could kill her with the flick of his wrist and who was she besides being at his mercy? She couldn't fight back against something like this? Something that wasn't even supposed to exist. "Ho-How did you...?" Words keep failing her. Unable to form complete sentences, she finally just gives up and nods at him. No more words to fall from her tongue at this point, instead, her gaze, showing the weariness behind her eyes and her body, still rocky and swaying on her feet, take a careful step toward him, showing that she would do as he said. After all, fear makes her value a lot and she values her life. She couldn't let whatever fairytale he was spewing at her be her death sentence and clearly, she knew she'd wake up the next morning, right? "I'll live if I do this. I can't die. I can't. This is a dream." She speaks the words to herself, in a whisper, unsure if this man would even be able to hear her, eyes drifting closed for a moment, two moments, opening on the third one, she's still crying by she doesn't wipe away her tears. She's far too scared to do any sudden movements except to carefully walk toward him.
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grihm:
⸸ ‒‒‒‒ 𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 @mechbeaut || 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖒
‒‒‒‒‒‒‒𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖞 to unlock the entrance to the tomb was complicated and finnicky, not because it was unusually difficult for a duo like Rosalie and Salem to perform, but because the curse that was needed had a difficult time adhering to a live victim. Twelve people had succumbed to a painful and sudden death within the last two days, by the hand of Salem and his random selection, and it would surely happen to many more, should someone compatible not be chosen.
The feline had chosen a woman for his most recent victim after he’d stumbled across her alone in a mechanic workshop, the hour late and the place closed up for the night. He waited, hiding in the shadows after touching her soul with the poison kiss of black magic. From the corner of the shop, he watched as the woman fell to the floor to writhe silently in pain, the curses’ grip squeezing the air from her lungs and causing blood to spill from her mouth. He’d expected her to die like the others, but after five minutes or so, he was pleasantly surprised to see that she was still alive, the pain subsiding.
❝ Well, well! ❞ Salem spoke through a faint smile, breaking the silence from the corner of the room as his body shifted into the shape of a man. He stepped away from the wall, the shadows seeming to stick to his black-clad form as though they were a part of him. ❝ We have a winner! Lucky number thirteen. ❞ His footsteps carried him closer until he was standing next to her, looking down at her shaking figure from above.
-
Staying late hadn't been anything unusual for the girl, having found she worked best when the shop had been empty and there hadn't been others around to distract her or demand that she weren't in her place behind a counter. Her eyes roll at the thought, hands moving wires of an engine to hook it all back up but then? Then it had all hit her so fast. The pain was overwhelming and despite trying to grip at the edge of the hood, she falls to the dirty floor below her, the dust and oil seeping in through the fabric of her clothing. The pain causes her to curl in on herself, knees against chest, body shaking as tears start to fall from her light gaze. Arms wrap around torso, fingers using nails to claw at her skin, trying desperately to rip the pain from inside her body as she screams silently, alone in the garage, no one around to hear her shouts of torment. She needed a hospital. She needed anything that wasn't this. The irony taste of blood coating her throat. What was wrong with her? Had she mixed the wires and electrocuted herself? No, this wasn't what happened when that occurred. She knew it wasn't food poisoning. What had caused such a nightmare full of hell to cause her to be on the ground in such pain? She wanted it to stop.
Gaze shifts as she tries to push herself up from the fetal position in which she had curled into. She draws a shaking breath, arms shaking just as much and her tired eyes follow the shoes, up the legs, the torso and to the gaze of the man speaking to her. Fear strikes through her, causing her to shift faster, the pain slowly coming back again as Rylan tries to shuffle backwards, away from this mysterious man, her tears still falling but from fear instead of pain, this time. "W-Winner?" She chokes out, light blue gaze resting on him and her body has all but given out on her again, the pain she had endured having taken so much of her energy just to get through. "Wh-What happened to me? Who the fuck are you?" Her voice is loud, shaking and breathless. She tries to pat for her phone in the front pocket of her jeans but she had set it upon a workbench, the music had all but been forgotten as background noise to this new scene, this new man, and this old pain.
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𝕴𝖓 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝕽𝖞𝖑𝖆𝖓’𝖘 𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖞, 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝕾𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖓 could do was laugh and offer her the small shake of his head. It was good to see that she’d at least held onto her sense of humor throughout the ordeal. ❝ I personally think you’re rocking the ‘just spent the night in a hospital look,’ but I think that leaving the gown behind was a good call. Might’ve been overkill, ❞ he commented, the smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth as he pulled away from the hospital to head out onto the road.
❝ I’ll let you get cleaned up when we get back to my place. You’ll probably feel better after you wash the coffee out of your hair, ❞ Soren added, hoping that the prospect of a shower and clean clothing might bring her some comfort. He could only imagine how uncomfortable she was, wearing the same clothes that she’d been wearing the night before. It wasn’t as though she’d had the luxury of grabbing something out of her suitcase, as that had burned up in her vehicle after it had burst into flames.
❝ We’re gonna be on the water for at least a few days though. Did you want to stop somewhere to pick up anything? There’s a used clothing store downtown that I could take you to if you wanted to get a couple changes of clothing, maybe? ❞ Soren suggested. ❝ I can lend you something to kick around in if you’d prefer that, but I don’t think I’ve got much that will fit you. ❞
-
How funny yet embarrassing this had been. For a mechanic and a street racer to lose control so easily by doing something so dumb. How could she have let such a thing happen? Mentally, she shakes herself. It'd take a lot more practice to get back to 100% and be good again. Or at least, what she saw as good. She wanted to win. Wanted to start taking the pot more often and not when she just got lucky. Perhaps she should save for a car upgrade. Maybe change out the tires, add in some fuel injections, a few other tunes and changes to the motor. She could sink to the level that the other racers tended to go but she liked the muscle of a car. She liked when the car could hold it's own against the supped up foreign ones. When a car could prove that it had what it took to be a street racing god or goddess. She wanted to be behind the wheel when it happened, of course. Anyone on the race did. No one likes to lose.
Rylan laughs however, at his words and the coffee. She had almost forgot about that but the scent was still there in her hair and she'd give anything to use shampoo and wash it all out. Wash the crash away from her body. To sit in a shower and maybe actually cry in silence and peace for a few minutes before pulling herself together and be ready to face what was to come, whether in the future or in the present. She knew there was no way around what was heading her way, no matter the situation she was looking at. "Yeah, I'd like that." A pause and she looks at him. He was attractive and she wanted to study his tattoos a bit more but she stops herself from doing so. "The used clothing store, please. Though, I could borrow something to sleep in if you've got anything extra. Then I'll just buy a couple pairs of jeans and some shirts." She's already mentally making a list in her head of what to buy and look for at the store. She knows her own style but she doubts the place will have much of it.
"If worse comes to worse, I'm sure the hospital will gladly part with one of their gowns." Rylan jokes, laughing a little as she tucks hair behind the shell of her ear. She drags her gaze away from him, looking out the window and taking in the sight of the town. She's trying to remember the last time she had been in a small town like this. One with charm and a sleepy feeling atmosphere. She wonders if this was the type of town where everyone knew everyone and could gossip when the neighborhood kid got in trouble or the mom down the street lost herself at the bottom of a bottle again. "Nice little town. I bet they've got some cool events during the summer."
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