The Ghosts in the Veil: Act I, Part II

(This one turned out shorter than I anticipated, but it turned out pretty swimmingly. I hope you enjoy it, brief as it is.)

The standoff in the small apartment room grew with its intense air, suffocating Jonah in his timidity and fright. The short, bald guardian at his left was still fuming, but knew the power of Garsin's weapon well enough to know that he would be killed if he moved. Still, Vander held his posture; chest out, eyes forward, hatred eternal. The bastard Garsin Tek may have had the advantage here, but Vander would ensure that this advantage wore thin before all was finished. With brow furrowed and lip curled into the familiar beastly snarl usually seen by his fallen enemies, Vander questioned the assassin, harshly.

"So, Our Regent Savos Imir commissioned the deaths of the Lord Baron's child and his guardian, and you obliged gleefully, is that the matter of things, Garsin?" An eerie silence pervaded through the room like a phantom haunting a forsaken household. Then, laughter, gliding across the tongue of a madman and into the ears of his targets, sending chills down Jonah's spine and pumping blood through Vander's body. His heart felt fit to burst in rage alone, his eyes aflame with the burning hatred that coursed through him, a scorching feeling like lava in his bloodstream. Still, the grinning piece of filth before him had him dangling by a string by way of a gun's barrel. He was powerless to react at this moment, and the assassin took great delight in this fact. Of course, his retort spilled from a tongue laced with a breath of acid, his words filled with poison. "My, my, my.....how quick we are in accusation! And how astute! But who else would send me to put an end to the great Vander the Behemoth? Though I never understood the nickname: your stature is much too minuscule for you to be anything other than a lapdog!" Cackling laughter erupted into his ears, causing him to usher himself forward. However, a small and heavy gesture from Garsin reminded the guardian that his life was hanging in the balance. "Ah, plucked a nerve did I? Well, I think killing you will be much more fun now that I know where your breaking point lies!" A snarl, a growl, and words of impatience and anger. "You have yet to see my breaking point, you filth!"

There was a stillness in the air, and a grin of wicked nature. The assassin's hand shifted, and the gun became trained on Jonah. The guardian's eyes widened ever-rapidly at this change in situation, fear now creeping up into his being like an uninvited guest. Garsin had been studying Vander's face, noting his reaction. "Ah, so this is where your breaking point is, am I correct?" Vander's heart pumped barbed wire, choking his chest and instilling fear for the boy. "Garsin, you muddy bastard, GET THAT WEAPON CLEAR OF THE BOY!" Jonah stood there, mouth agape and butterflies going berserk in his gut. He felt the Lord Death hover over him, his heart beating so fast it pained him. He clenched his fists in fearful tension, embracing the idea that he could be killed, without even a word to be said on his own account.

"My, my. I thought you were just protecting the boy, I didn't think you were actually close to him!" He tightened his grip on the pistol, eyes hardening into gleeful stones of evil, the windows into a soul as black as the abyss. "Well, Vander, if you are so hot and bothered now, how will you feel about this?" Two explosions, two thuds, and a winded and wounded child in the corner of the room. Laughter and screaming mixed into one concoction of emotions running rampant throughout the room. Vander charged the assassin and was immediately struck down with the butt of the pistol, in the back of the head. Blackness filled his vision and stars painted the blackness. In Vander's delirium, Garsin Tek slipped out the front door and ran, far away from a recovering Vander.

When the world stopped spinning, Vander looked to the corner of the room. Jonah had fallen to his knees and slumped backward. Two black and crimson-colored holes were imprinted into his skin, spilling all over his white hoodie. Vander stumbled over to the boy and called his name. In Jonah's ears, the voice seemed thousands of years away, his guardian's face slipping away, further and further.

Vander took the boy in his arms and ran from the room, screaming ravenously for assistance. His neighbors would open the door to see what the commotion was all about, and shrieked in horror at the sight of the bleeding boy. One of the neighbors, a woman named "Daniels" had affirmed that she was calling "911," for whatever good that would do. She told Vander to wait, and he did just so, collapsing to his kness and sobbing over the boy's injured frame.

And the world spun out of control, his consciousness fading like fog in the sunlight. His life was plummeting down, further into Death's hands as the voice of his protector fell deaf on his dying ears.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/DyS08N0v0jk/viewtopic.php

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