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<blockquote data-quote="drose25" data-source="post: 1497917" data-attributes="member: 17383"><p><strong>drose25 v. Mythago</strong></p><p></p><p>Simon hummed a few bars of nonsense softly under his breath as he leaned up against one of the many glass cases in the room that ensconced a veritable treasure trove of fine jewelry. He'd been in this establishment entirely too many times recently, the clasp on the Bulgari watch his father had given him one Christmas refusing to stay shut. Simon was beginning to wonder if it was the watch or the jeweler, as many times as the portly man who ran this place had worked on it.</p><p></p><p>He was picking it up again today and he'd made it clear earlier on the telephone that this would be his last visit. Simon just hoped they had taken it to heart and fixed it properly for a change. An innocuous winkle came from the door behind him and Simon turned his head to inspect the new arrival. He couldn't help but notice the curious shimmering around some of the jewel cases as he did. Magic of some sort. Probably there to make the merchant's wares look all that more appealing. He couldn't help but grin to himself. Even in the best of places people resorted to the same old tricks.</p><p></p><p>The newcomer caught Simon's gaze and nodded politely. Simon nodded very politely back. The man coming through the doorway was so hulkingly massive as to seem unreal. Simon took an unconscious step back. He was pretty fit himself, he liked to think, but this gentleman had arms the size of Simon's legs. Something else was unusual about the man...or rather something he carried. Simon tried to narrow the sensation down but couldn't. There was only a strong aura of magic radiating from a tiny box in his hand.</p><p></p><p>A well-heeled saleswoman intercepted the man before Simon could open his mouth to speak. He was curious about whatever it was the gentleman carried.</p><p></p><p>"Good afternoon," the woman said lithely. "Is there something I can help you with today?"</p><p></p><p>Simon tried not to laugh as she batted her eyelids at the hulk before her. He hadn't expected to find such a caricature anywhere in the real world.</p><p></p><p>"Yes, thank you," the other man replied as he extended the box and opened it. "I need to see about getting this fixed. It seems to have lost a stone."</p><p></p><p>The saleswoman cooed as she pulled out a silver-colored bracelet of some sort encrusted with bluish stones. "This is very pretty," she went on as she peered into the box. "Do you still have the stone or do you need it replaced?"</p><p></p><p>"I'm afraid it's lost," the man replied.</p><p></p><p>"Well, you'll need to speak with the jeweler then...let him look at the others and see if he thinks he can find a replacement that will blend. If I might ask you to wait a moment I'll fetch him from the back..."</p><p></p><p>The saleswoman looked to the man for approval before disappearing into the back of the store. Simon walked over to the stranger, his curiosity making him uncharacteristically bold.</p><p></p><p>"I couldn't help but notice," he began speaking to the other man, "what a fine piece of jewelry you have there. Do you mind if I look at it? My mother might enjoy something like that for her birthday..."</p><p></p><p>The stranger more grunted his approval than spoke it as he moved the box toward Simon. A moment's worth of concentration brought a familiar shimmer to the bracelet as he reached to pick it up. It was definitely unusual, he thought to himself. He had never seen such an aura coming from a mundane object such as that. Simon had to stifle a gasp as his fingers grasped the cold metal. Without even concentrating foreign images came flashing into his mind.</p><p></p><p>He saw the bracelet on a hand, a creamy pale feminine hand as it trickled its way down a man's cheek. He could feel a day's worth of bearded growth tickle the skin. It wasn't the same man that was before him now, however, though this man was certainly fit as well. Simon couldn't really make out a face, or even much of a form, but he could feel the way the man's vitality seemed to pump in the air. The hand fell to the neck of a silken shirt and toyed with an obstinate button there. Simon could sense a hunger welling up within the bracelet's wearer, a cold passion she was straining hard to reign in. The bracelet touched the man's chest and Simon gasped slightly, dropping the bracelet back into the box.</p><p></p><p>The newcomer’s eyebrows raised slightly and then dropped almost as quickly.</p><p></p><p>"My," Simon stammered out, "that's quite a specimen." A terror had trembled rapidly through him as the bracelet touched the man in the vision. Or rather the terror had been trembling through the man in the images. It was a sentient terror, ripe with anticipation and fear, longing and loathing all at once. Whatever he had feared he knew it was coming. Simon didn't want to see any more. Not here in front of strangers. Magical or mundane, Simon had been able to sense impressions from items and his surroundings as long as he could remember. He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse.</p><p></p><p>"Thanks," the newcomer grumbled.</p><p></p><p>"Where'd you find a bracelet that like?" Simon asked.</p><p></p><p>"It's my boss's," he replied disinterested. "She asked me to bring it down today."</p><p></p><p>Simon looked up with renewed curiosity at the hulk before him. He would have never expected the man had a woman for a boss.</p><p></p><p>"Really?” Simon was about to ask another question but the sales lady had returned with the jeweler.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, how can I help you?” the portly jeweler inquired as he led the newcomer and the bracelet aside.</p><p></p><p>Simon’s curiosity remained piqued and he glanced subtly in the direction of the jeweler and the stranger as he examined the repaired watch the sales lady finally brought from the back. They had yet to finish their business by the time Simon had paid for the latest repair and departed.</p><p></p><p>A quick cab ride had taken him home to the estate with its view overlooking the lake and the hills. Simon sat in an overstuffed leather chair, his feet propped up on the ottoman. A steaming cup of oolong tea rested delicately in its matching china saucer on the small end table next to him. The day was beginning to shift into night and he sat comfortably in the conservatory, watching the sunset consume the sky with a billowing blaze wafting up from the horizon. It illuminated an old and barren oak tree which had long lost its leaves, silhouetting an ebony skeleton against the incandescent sky. [Pic1] It had been, Simon was told, a hanging tree in the wilder days of the west. It still looked strong, despite weathering countless storms and infinite seasons.</p><p></p><p>The floor creaked almost imperceptibly behind him. He had company. Simon’s hand went out slowly to the table by his side and retrieved the hot cup of tea. </p><p></p><p>“May I help you?” he inquired as he finished a sip of the warm tea, his head still admiring the sunset before him instead of the intruder behind.</p><p></p><p>There was a sudden scuffing noise. A footstep braking suddenly. Or was there more than one? Ah, he thought to himself, his visitor hadn’t expected to be noticed first. He’d caught him, or them, off guard. </p><p></p><p>Arpad glanced at his partner, Viktor. Viktor was a rather skinny man with short, but curly red hair. Viktor didn’t look like much, but Arpad knew Viktor could kill a man with little more than a stare. Arpad had seen it. Not that Arpad himself was a limp noodle. No, Arpad was actually the bulkier of the two. Only he hadn’t been around as long. This game was still new to him.</p><p></p><p>Viktor shot him a questioning gaze. Neither of them had expected this. The man in the chair had not moved, only blonde locks of hair were visible above the wrinkled leather. “Simon St. John,” the man said more than asked, though his tone clearly indicated he expected an answer.</p><p></p><p>Simon set the cup down with hurried, but deliberate motion. The voice was strange and carried itself on a thick Bavarian accent. He stood and turned to face the new arrivals. Two men in brown jumpsuits were at the door to his conservatory. Two very strange men with something wild lingering in the recesses of their eyes.</p><p></p><p>“As I said before,” Simon said precisely to mask his concern, “how may I help you?”</p><p></p><p>Arpad grinned. “Told ya we’d find him here. Ivan got the address from the jeweler before he expired.”</p><p></p><p>Viktor nodded. “Ivan rarely lead us wrong.”</p><p></p><p>“You will come with us, to see Dr. Sasha,” Arpad continued, words marred by accent.</p><p></p><p>“Dr. who?” Simon inquired as he looked at the pair somewhat bewildered. This was most unexpected and, truth be told, a little frightening. Something about the pasty skin on this pair was just not normal. </p><p></p><p>“No, not Dr. Hu, Dr. Sasha,” Arpad repeated with frustration as he pulled out a silenced gun and trained it on Simon. Viktor reacted by pulling out his own pair of handcuffs and a blindfold.</p><p></p><p>“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Viktor smiled.</p><p></p><p>Simon shivered. Something faintly wicked emanated from the pair. Viktor didn’t wait for an answer. Within moments he and Arpad had Simon on the floor and quickly restrained. Blinded and restrained. Moments later something damp and pungent covered his noise. Simon’s mind went black.</p><p></p><p>A metallic ringing sound interrupted Simon’s blissful sleep and it was quickly followed with by a vise-like headache that gripped his mind and wrenched agony into it. He lifted a groggy eye and turned towards the sound. A mechanical alarm clock was vibrating and chattering noisily on the nightstand, a diligent hammer constantly striking two bells. Simon reached over and smacked it silent, gasping with huge breaths for air as another image entered his mind. [Pic 4]</p><p></p><p>The face of man with wild eyes, almost like those of his kidnappers, stared out as he struggled to wrest his arms free. A woman approached with dark hair and pale skin that flowed like cream. She smiled and the man’s eyes widened further, his heart racing in his chest. Simon tried to drop the clock but his hands seemed frozen. The woman approached again. He could feel the man’s horror, twinged with longing, as she drew closer. And then it was over.</p><p></p><p>The firm hand of a man standing over his bed had pulled the clock from his grasp. He wore a white jacket and looked rather like a doctor except for the curiously dreadlocked hair.</p><p></p><p>“Good evening,” the man said, again with a thick Bavarian accent. “It is so good of you to wake. I am Jan. Come,” he said motioning for Simon to get up. “Follow me.”</p><p></p><p>The man led Simon down sterile halls, passing the occasional nurse who, like Jan, had dreadlocked hair until they reached an enclosed yard. “Welcome to the Institute for the Very Very Nervous,” Jan said. The yard stretched into forever and was surrounded by a white stucco wall of biblical proportions. Jan continued to walk and Simon followed. Several straightjacketed people wandered about the yard in the setting sun.</p><p></p><p>Jan motioned to a man painting a mural on one of the walls. [Pic 2] “What do you think? Peaceful, no? It soothes the patients, like a sort of visual happy hour before we pump them full of Xanax and pump out something else.” Jan grinned. “We’ve had fewer deaths since we began painting.”</p><p></p><p>“Why am I here?” Simon asked, head still splitting. It was getting dark.</p><p></p><p>Jan laughed. “People like you know too much,” he answered. “We can’t have you running around on the streets.”</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean people like me?”</p><p></p><p>Jan never answered. The hulking man from the jeweler’s had arrived and Jan clammed up. Simon couldn’t tell if it was out of respect or fear.</p><p></p><p>“Sasha wants to see him,” he said.</p><p></p><p>“Of course, of course Ivan,” Jan stammered a reply. “I’ll take him right away.”</p><p></p><p>Jan took Simon’s arm and started to steer him back towards the main building as the last of the sun’s rays dipped below the horizon. They had almost reached the door when it was swung open by two shirtless men, again with dreadlocks in their hair. A tall, pale woman stepped out, raven hair flowing down one side of her neck and resting on her breast. She wore a very smart red dress and, Simon panicked, a very familiar silver bracelet on one hand. Several more shirtless attendants followed her.</p><p></p><p>“Ah,” Jan stammered obsequiously, “Dr. Sasha, what a pleasure.”</p><p></p><p>“Is this the one who sees? Your orders were to bring him to me as soon as he awoke,” Sasha replied coldly.</p><p></p><p>Jan took a step back but the two nearest attendants grabbed his arms and kept him from moving further.</p><p></p><p>“I’m sorry, I thought I should him his new home first and I didn’t want to disturb you before sunset,” Jan bumbled an apology.</p><p></p><p>Sasha walked up to Jan and stepped in towards him. “You thought?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes…I’m sorry.”</p><p></p><p>She leaned in further and whispered something into Jan’s ear. His mouth dropped slightly but didn’t have time to fall far as Sasha’s mouth plunged onto his neck.</p><p></p><p>Simon’s eyes bugged out of their sockets as Jan went weak in the knees. He bolted past the occupied attendants and through the door before the others realized what had happened. White hallways led this way and that and Simon ran as hard as he could ignoring the ghostly visions that seemed to float by. His legs pumped underneath him as his heart tore through his chest. Simon slowed to make an awkward corner turn and caught sight of the captors from his house.</p><p></p><p>“HEY!” Arpad yelled. “What you think you do?!”</p><p></p><p>Viktor didn’t waste any time yelling. He just took off after Simon.</p><p></p><p>Where was he going? Simon ran down another hallway and made another sharp turn, following the blue line on the floor. God only knew where it went, but blue was his favorite color. He ignored the other lines on the floor as they darted about here and there. </p><p></p><p>Blue, unfortunately betrayed him. Simon ran into a dead-end. The hallway ended with a picture window overlooking the yard. He turned to retrace his steps but Arpad and Viktor had turned the corner and now stared directly at him, grinning evilly. Simon looked up. Nothing. Simon looked down and relief washed over him. A hatch.</p><p></p><p>He jumped down it and found himself in another hallway, his legs taking off underneath him without waiting.</p><p></p><p>Viktor jumped down first and paused to see where Simon had headed. Arpad jumped down without looking. [Pic 3]</p><p></p><p>“Get the hell off!” Viktor exclaimed as Arpad’s foot landed on his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”</p><p></p><p>“Sorry,” Arpad apologized, another foot hitting the wall in an effort to stabilize himself.</p><p></p><p>Simon continued to run, ignoring the commotion behind him. The properly painted hallway soon turned into a concrete passage that led to a garage. Simon stumbled down a brief flight of stairs, his chest heaving as he looked about. Several cars lined one wall and Simon tried their doors as he stumbled through the room. All locked. He bolted through another door and his mind sighed with relief as the cool night air hit him.</p><p></p><p>Simon took in long, deep breaths as he started to run across the grassy ground. He turned to look behind him and as he did, his toe caught something, sending him tumbling to the ground. Simon felt something cold strike his head as the stars above suddenly went dim.</p><p></p><p>After managing to shove Arpad off, Viktor and him continued their chase through the halls and garage. Viktor had actually laughed when they found Simon out cold, his head on the landscape stone.</p><p></p><p>Simon came to slowly once more, his head pounding even more if that were possible. This time, fresh outdoor air filled his nostrils instead of the medicinally sterile indoor air. He blinked and looked up. He was lying on his back. Several of the dreadlocked attendants were dancing around him, twirling giant sparkling batons that left trails of light behind them. [Pic 5] Somewhere past his sight the sound of dull chanting rang through the air.</p><p></p><p>Jan stood at his feet, looking paler than he had earlier, no trace of smile on his face. Simon tried to move but his arms and legs were bound outspread. He pulled harder but the rope merely cut into his flesh. </p><p></p><p>“What?” he asked plaintively.</p><p></p><p>Jan ignored him, but a woman’s face leaned over. A pale woman with raven hair that fell down her face and tickled his. </p><p></p><p>“Tell me what you see,” she said seductively as well-manicured hand reached out and pressed against his cheek.</p><p></p><p>Simon screamed as the death of thousands washed across his soul.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="drose25, post: 1497917, member: 17383"] [b]drose25 v. Mythago[/b] Simon hummed a few bars of nonsense softly under his breath as he leaned up against one of the many glass cases in the room that ensconced a veritable treasure trove of fine jewelry. He'd been in this establishment entirely too many times recently, the clasp on the Bulgari watch his father had given him one Christmas refusing to stay shut. Simon was beginning to wonder if it was the watch or the jeweler, as many times as the portly man who ran this place had worked on it. He was picking it up again today and he'd made it clear earlier on the telephone that this would be his last visit. Simon just hoped they had taken it to heart and fixed it properly for a change. An innocuous winkle came from the door behind him and Simon turned his head to inspect the new arrival. He couldn't help but notice the curious shimmering around some of the jewel cases as he did. Magic of some sort. Probably there to make the merchant's wares look all that more appealing. He couldn't help but grin to himself. Even in the best of places people resorted to the same old tricks. The newcomer caught Simon's gaze and nodded politely. Simon nodded very politely back. The man coming through the doorway was so hulkingly massive as to seem unreal. Simon took an unconscious step back. He was pretty fit himself, he liked to think, but this gentleman had arms the size of Simon's legs. Something else was unusual about the man...or rather something he carried. Simon tried to narrow the sensation down but couldn't. There was only a strong aura of magic radiating from a tiny box in his hand. A well-heeled saleswoman intercepted the man before Simon could open his mouth to speak. He was curious about whatever it was the gentleman carried. "Good afternoon," the woman said lithely. "Is there something I can help you with today?" Simon tried not to laugh as she batted her eyelids at the hulk before her. He hadn't expected to find such a caricature anywhere in the real world. "Yes, thank you," the other man replied as he extended the box and opened it. "I need to see about getting this fixed. It seems to have lost a stone." The saleswoman cooed as she pulled out a silver-colored bracelet of some sort encrusted with bluish stones. "This is very pretty," she went on as she peered into the box. "Do you still have the stone or do you need it replaced?" "I'm afraid it's lost," the man replied. "Well, you'll need to speak with the jeweler then...let him look at the others and see if he thinks he can find a replacement that will blend. If I might ask you to wait a moment I'll fetch him from the back..." The saleswoman looked to the man for approval before disappearing into the back of the store. Simon walked over to the stranger, his curiosity making him uncharacteristically bold. "I couldn't help but notice," he began speaking to the other man, "what a fine piece of jewelry you have there. Do you mind if I look at it? My mother might enjoy something like that for her birthday..." The stranger more grunted his approval than spoke it as he moved the box toward Simon. A moment's worth of concentration brought a familiar shimmer to the bracelet as he reached to pick it up. It was definitely unusual, he thought to himself. He had never seen such an aura coming from a mundane object such as that. Simon had to stifle a gasp as his fingers grasped the cold metal. Without even concentrating foreign images came flashing into his mind. He saw the bracelet on a hand, a creamy pale feminine hand as it trickled its way down a man's cheek. He could feel a day's worth of bearded growth tickle the skin. It wasn't the same man that was before him now, however, though this man was certainly fit as well. Simon couldn't really make out a face, or even much of a form, but he could feel the way the man's vitality seemed to pump in the air. The hand fell to the neck of a silken shirt and toyed with an obstinate button there. Simon could sense a hunger welling up within the bracelet's wearer, a cold passion she was straining hard to reign in. The bracelet touched the man's chest and Simon gasped slightly, dropping the bracelet back into the box. The newcomer’s eyebrows raised slightly and then dropped almost as quickly. "My," Simon stammered out, "that's quite a specimen." A terror had trembled rapidly through him as the bracelet touched the man in the vision. Or rather the terror had been trembling through the man in the images. It was a sentient terror, ripe with anticipation and fear, longing and loathing all at once. Whatever he had feared he knew it was coming. Simon didn't want to see any more. Not here in front of strangers. Magical or mundane, Simon had been able to sense impressions from items and his surroundings as long as he could remember. He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse. "Thanks," the newcomer grumbled. "Where'd you find a bracelet that like?" Simon asked. "It's my boss's," he replied disinterested. "She asked me to bring it down today." Simon looked up with renewed curiosity at the hulk before him. He would have never expected the man had a woman for a boss. "Really?” Simon was about to ask another question but the sales lady had returned with the jeweler. “Ah, how can I help you?” the portly jeweler inquired as he led the newcomer and the bracelet aside. Simon’s curiosity remained piqued and he glanced subtly in the direction of the jeweler and the stranger as he examined the repaired watch the sales lady finally brought from the back. They had yet to finish their business by the time Simon had paid for the latest repair and departed. A quick cab ride had taken him home to the estate with its view overlooking the lake and the hills. Simon sat in an overstuffed leather chair, his feet propped up on the ottoman. A steaming cup of oolong tea rested delicately in its matching china saucer on the small end table next to him. The day was beginning to shift into night and he sat comfortably in the conservatory, watching the sunset consume the sky with a billowing blaze wafting up from the horizon. It illuminated an old and barren oak tree which had long lost its leaves, silhouetting an ebony skeleton against the incandescent sky. [Pic1] It had been, Simon was told, a hanging tree in the wilder days of the west. It still looked strong, despite weathering countless storms and infinite seasons. The floor creaked almost imperceptibly behind him. He had company. Simon’s hand went out slowly to the table by his side and retrieved the hot cup of tea. “May I help you?” he inquired as he finished a sip of the warm tea, his head still admiring the sunset before him instead of the intruder behind. There was a sudden scuffing noise. A footstep braking suddenly. Or was there more than one? Ah, he thought to himself, his visitor hadn’t expected to be noticed first. He’d caught him, or them, off guard. Arpad glanced at his partner, Viktor. Viktor was a rather skinny man with short, but curly red hair. Viktor didn’t look like much, but Arpad knew Viktor could kill a man with little more than a stare. Arpad had seen it. Not that Arpad himself was a limp noodle. No, Arpad was actually the bulkier of the two. Only he hadn’t been around as long. This game was still new to him. Viktor shot him a questioning gaze. Neither of them had expected this. The man in the chair had not moved, only blonde locks of hair were visible above the wrinkled leather. “Simon St. John,” the man said more than asked, though his tone clearly indicated he expected an answer. Simon set the cup down with hurried, but deliberate motion. The voice was strange and carried itself on a thick Bavarian accent. He stood and turned to face the new arrivals. Two men in brown jumpsuits were at the door to his conservatory. Two very strange men with something wild lingering in the recesses of their eyes. “As I said before,” Simon said precisely to mask his concern, “how may I help you?” Arpad grinned. “Told ya we’d find him here. Ivan got the address from the jeweler before he expired.” Viktor nodded. “Ivan rarely lead us wrong.” “You will come with us, to see Dr. Sasha,” Arpad continued, words marred by accent. “Dr. who?” Simon inquired as he looked at the pair somewhat bewildered. This was most unexpected and, truth be told, a little frightening. Something about the pasty skin on this pair was just not normal. “No, not Dr. Hu, Dr. Sasha,” Arpad repeated with frustration as he pulled out a silenced gun and trained it on Simon. Viktor reacted by pulling out his own pair of handcuffs and a blindfold. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Viktor smiled. Simon shivered. Something faintly wicked emanated from the pair. Viktor didn’t wait for an answer. Within moments he and Arpad had Simon on the floor and quickly restrained. Blinded and restrained. Moments later something damp and pungent covered his noise. Simon’s mind went black. A metallic ringing sound interrupted Simon’s blissful sleep and it was quickly followed with by a vise-like headache that gripped his mind and wrenched agony into it. He lifted a groggy eye and turned towards the sound. A mechanical alarm clock was vibrating and chattering noisily on the nightstand, a diligent hammer constantly striking two bells. Simon reached over and smacked it silent, gasping with huge breaths for air as another image entered his mind. [Pic 4] The face of man with wild eyes, almost like those of his kidnappers, stared out as he struggled to wrest his arms free. A woman approached with dark hair and pale skin that flowed like cream. She smiled and the man’s eyes widened further, his heart racing in his chest. Simon tried to drop the clock but his hands seemed frozen. The woman approached again. He could feel the man’s horror, twinged with longing, as she drew closer. And then it was over. The firm hand of a man standing over his bed had pulled the clock from his grasp. He wore a white jacket and looked rather like a doctor except for the curiously dreadlocked hair. “Good evening,” the man said, again with a thick Bavarian accent. “It is so good of you to wake. I am Jan. Come,” he said motioning for Simon to get up. “Follow me.” The man led Simon down sterile halls, passing the occasional nurse who, like Jan, had dreadlocked hair until they reached an enclosed yard. “Welcome to the Institute for the Very Very Nervous,” Jan said. The yard stretched into forever and was surrounded by a white stucco wall of biblical proportions. Jan continued to walk and Simon followed. Several straightjacketed people wandered about the yard in the setting sun. Jan motioned to a man painting a mural on one of the walls. [Pic 2] “What do you think? Peaceful, no? It soothes the patients, like a sort of visual happy hour before we pump them full of Xanax and pump out something else.” Jan grinned. “We’ve had fewer deaths since we began painting.” “Why am I here?” Simon asked, head still splitting. It was getting dark. Jan laughed. “People like you know too much,” he answered. “We can’t have you running around on the streets.” “What do you mean people like me?” Jan never answered. The hulking man from the jeweler’s had arrived and Jan clammed up. Simon couldn’t tell if it was out of respect or fear. “Sasha wants to see him,” he said. “Of course, of course Ivan,” Jan stammered a reply. “I’ll take him right away.” Jan took Simon’s arm and started to steer him back towards the main building as the last of the sun’s rays dipped below the horizon. They had almost reached the door when it was swung open by two shirtless men, again with dreadlocks in their hair. A tall, pale woman stepped out, raven hair flowing down one side of her neck and resting on her breast. She wore a very smart red dress and, Simon panicked, a very familiar silver bracelet on one hand. Several more shirtless attendants followed her. “Ah,” Jan stammered obsequiously, “Dr. Sasha, what a pleasure.” “Is this the one who sees? Your orders were to bring him to me as soon as he awoke,” Sasha replied coldly. Jan took a step back but the two nearest attendants grabbed his arms and kept him from moving further. “I’m sorry, I thought I should him his new home first and I didn’t want to disturb you before sunset,” Jan bumbled an apology. Sasha walked up to Jan and stepped in towards him. “You thought?” “Yes…I’m sorry.” She leaned in further and whispered something into Jan’s ear. His mouth dropped slightly but didn’t have time to fall far as Sasha’s mouth plunged onto his neck. Simon’s eyes bugged out of their sockets as Jan went weak in the knees. He bolted past the occupied attendants and through the door before the others realized what had happened. White hallways led this way and that and Simon ran as hard as he could ignoring the ghostly visions that seemed to float by. His legs pumped underneath him as his heart tore through his chest. Simon slowed to make an awkward corner turn and caught sight of the captors from his house. “HEY!” Arpad yelled. “What you think you do?!” Viktor didn’t waste any time yelling. He just took off after Simon. Where was he going? Simon ran down another hallway and made another sharp turn, following the blue line on the floor. God only knew where it went, but blue was his favorite color. He ignored the other lines on the floor as they darted about here and there. Blue, unfortunately betrayed him. Simon ran into a dead-end. The hallway ended with a picture window overlooking the yard. He turned to retrace his steps but Arpad and Viktor had turned the corner and now stared directly at him, grinning evilly. Simon looked up. Nothing. Simon looked down and relief washed over him. A hatch. He jumped down it and found himself in another hallway, his legs taking off underneath him without waiting. Viktor jumped down first and paused to see where Simon had headed. Arpad jumped down without looking. [Pic 3] “Get the hell off!” Viktor exclaimed as Arpad’s foot landed on his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Sorry,” Arpad apologized, another foot hitting the wall in an effort to stabilize himself. Simon continued to run, ignoring the commotion behind him. The properly painted hallway soon turned into a concrete passage that led to a garage. Simon stumbled down a brief flight of stairs, his chest heaving as he looked about. Several cars lined one wall and Simon tried their doors as he stumbled through the room. All locked. He bolted through another door and his mind sighed with relief as the cool night air hit him. Simon took in long, deep breaths as he started to run across the grassy ground. He turned to look behind him and as he did, his toe caught something, sending him tumbling to the ground. Simon felt something cold strike his head as the stars above suddenly went dim. After managing to shove Arpad off, Viktor and him continued their chase through the halls and garage. Viktor had actually laughed when they found Simon out cold, his head on the landscape stone. Simon came to slowly once more, his head pounding even more if that were possible. This time, fresh outdoor air filled his nostrils instead of the medicinally sterile indoor air. He blinked and looked up. He was lying on his back. Several of the dreadlocked attendants were dancing around him, twirling giant sparkling batons that left trails of light behind them. [Pic 5] Somewhere past his sight the sound of dull chanting rang through the air. Jan stood at his feet, looking paler than he had earlier, no trace of smile on his face. Simon tried to move but his arms and legs were bound outspread. He pulled harder but the rope merely cut into his flesh. “What?” he asked plaintively. Jan ignored him, but a woman’s face leaned over. A pale woman with raven hair that fell down her face and tickled his. “Tell me what you see,” she said seductively as well-manicured hand reached out and pressed against his cheek. Simon screamed as the death of thousands washed across his soul. [/QUOTE]
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