[LJ Idol 8x21] Intersection Week: "Bridge"
Note: This entry based on the prompt "Bridge" is part of an intersection with the wonderful and talented tigrkittn, and follows her entry based on "The Straw That Stirs the Drink". Please read her entry first ( found here) before reading mine!
Filthy alleys, tunnels, abandoned warehouses, dark woods. You name a place where things go bump in the night and I've probably been there, being bumped by said things. It sucks. After a while it all blends together, a big shit smoothie yours truly can't seem to find the bottom of. When I made the deal it sounded better than goin' to hell, but after forgotten centuries spent doin' The Big Man's dirty work I'm not so sure.
Take tonight for instance. I'm under an old bridge in a dark wooded park, a double whammy of creepy I'd much rather avoid. But them's the breaks, as this is where I ducked out when my prey had a sudden turn of heart. I get an eyeful quick-like, taking in the legs that went on for ages before ending at the cocktail dress that started as late as I did this morning. She was a tall glass of water I could sip from all day, if I could get past the whole scaly tail, glowing eyes, demonic possession thing that is.
Dame's beating her gums about dismembering me this, sowing fear and anarchy that, the usual chaos demon shtick. I'm feigning shock and ignorance while trying to remember if she's an ex lover, cause I'm sure I got this lecture before. I've dealt with her kind in the past, but this one was crafty enough I'd have to stay on my toes. Normally they went for the fire and brimstone spewing, livestock gutting, virgin eating path of spreading chaos. Not this one. This one got down and dirty, infiltrating communities and twisting emotions and feeling like she's makin' pretzels. Catty, insecure pretzels. Suddenly I realize the place is too damn quiet, and I snap to just in time to catch her left hook right in the kisser.
Stay on my toes, right. I pick my busted ass up out of the dirt while brushing the mud and blood off my favorite jacket, sliding a hand into my pocket. I work my fingers into The Gauntlet, a nasty thing that was part sharp iron shards, part ancient eldritch magick, and all business. First thing on tonight's agenda: stopping a hostile takeover. She must have gotten the memo, cause right on cue she leaps at me for the quick finish.
I'm only gonna get one chance at this so I make it count. Quicker than she can blink I dodge under her, thrusting up with the Gauntlet and punching a hole straight through her. I take a quick look in her eyes as the demonic lights go out, thinking what a terrible waste of a good future ex wife. I missed the simple days of femme fatales and good smokes, a hot iron in my hand and a dead badder-than-I guy at my feet. Nowadays it was all business and no flash, one man against the bottom-feeding scum Hell wouldn't let in.
The burning pain in my arm reminds me that also meant no time for reflection and monologues. I pull my hand back through, making sure I kept a firm grip on the bastard that had been wearing her like a cheap suit. I toss him deeper under the bridge as he changes form to the seven foot hulking monster he naturally is, built for dealing pain and ugly all day. Seeing him this way reminds me of the rest of what made chaos demons fun, but not soon enough. I catch the blast of hellfire square in the chest, with a force that shreds my clothes and flings me back against the hard, unyielding wall.
It hurts. A lot. I loved that jacket more than anyone on this stinkin' planet, and the thought of its demise brought tears to my eyes. That could also be the scorched flesh and cracked ribs, I'm not quite sure as the whole world has gone fuzzy. Smoke rose from the runes scribbled across my skin, still trying to channel away the energies. Once bitten twice shy, this private dick learned long ago to use protection and never left home without it. Still, as I slide to the ground and cough up blood I wonder if the best protection might be not leaving home at all.
I pick my head up enough to look the demon's way, a thousand little dwarves hammering in my skull and playing high-pitched whistles. It's prowling around in front of me like a cat with a mouse it's batted near to death, just playing a bit before the meal. Just then the world behind the demon stretches out and I feel a bad case of karma heading its way. A carved marble block the size of a Volkswagen bus hammers into the demon, sendin' it swirling to crater the wall next to me. Twelve feet and two thousand pounds of hairy ugly comes into view as he picks the hammer up out of my line of sight, and I can't help but give a chuckle.
"About damn time you got here. Thought I might have to do something myself."
He leans in over me and the world gets a bit dark and cramped for my tastes, then pokes me in the chest with his finger. "You're lucky I bother showing up at all. One day you'll have to deal, or die trying. Maybe tonight's still our lucky chance for number two?"
I shake my head and shoot him the bird, which seems to both annoy and satisfy him. In the meantime other trolls have shackled what's left of the demon in cold wrought iron. They drag the demon away like last week's trash, leaving bits behind to crap the place up. My enormous savior turns to walk away, and I give a snap of my fingers to catch his attention. Yup, definitely more annoyed than satisfied now. I point to the mushy pile of ex-broad in the corner. "Ain't ya forgetting something?"
He shoots me the biggest bird I've ever got, and I've gotten lots in my life. "I'm your partner, not a garbage man. Clean your own shit up." With that he walks back into the shadows and out of my life. For now. I shake my head. He makes a damn good partner in the grand scheme of things, what with the movin' from world to world through the bridges thing like stepping in one door, and out any other. Trolls just have a knack for pickin' the right "out" door. I wish they picked one that led to a shower more often.
I reach for a smoke in my chest pocket, and all I get is a lot of pain and blood on my fingers. Damn, I loved that jacket. No smokes, dead dame, and a world of hurt. Starting to look like just another night of shit smoothie. Guess I'd best get my ass up out of the dirt and get back to it. No rest for the formerly wicked.
Filthy alleys, tunnels, abandoned warehouses, dark woods. You name a place where things go bump in the night and I've probably been there, being bumped by said things. It sucks. After a while it all blends together, a big shit smoothie yours truly can't seem to find the bottom of. When I made the deal it sounded better than goin' to hell, but after forgotten centuries spent doin' The Big Man's dirty work I'm not so sure.
Take tonight for instance. I'm under an old bridge in a dark wooded park, a double whammy of creepy I'd much rather avoid. But them's the breaks, as this is where I ducked out when my prey had a sudden turn of heart. I get an eyeful quick-like, taking in the legs that went on for ages before ending at the cocktail dress that started as late as I did this morning. She was a tall glass of water I could sip from all day, if I could get past the whole scaly tail, glowing eyes, demonic possession thing that is.
Dame's beating her gums about dismembering me this, sowing fear and anarchy that, the usual chaos demon shtick. I'm feigning shock and ignorance while trying to remember if she's an ex lover, cause I'm sure I got this lecture before. I've dealt with her kind in the past, but this one was crafty enough I'd have to stay on my toes. Normally they went for the fire and brimstone spewing, livestock gutting, virgin eating path of spreading chaos. Not this one. This one got down and dirty, infiltrating communities and twisting emotions and feeling like she's makin' pretzels. Catty, insecure pretzels. Suddenly I realize the place is too damn quiet, and I snap to just in time to catch her left hook right in the kisser.
Stay on my toes, right. I pick my busted ass up out of the dirt while brushing the mud and blood off my favorite jacket, sliding a hand into my pocket. I work my fingers into The Gauntlet, a nasty thing that was part sharp iron shards, part ancient eldritch magick, and all business. First thing on tonight's agenda: stopping a hostile takeover. She must have gotten the memo, cause right on cue she leaps at me for the quick finish.
I'm only gonna get one chance at this so I make it count. Quicker than she can blink I dodge under her, thrusting up with the Gauntlet and punching a hole straight through her. I take a quick look in her eyes as the demonic lights go out, thinking what a terrible waste of a good future ex wife. I missed the simple days of femme fatales and good smokes, a hot iron in my hand and a dead badder-than-I guy at my feet. Nowadays it was all business and no flash, one man against the bottom-feeding scum Hell wouldn't let in.
The burning pain in my arm reminds me that also meant no time for reflection and monologues. I pull my hand back through, making sure I kept a firm grip on the bastard that had been wearing her like a cheap suit. I toss him deeper under the bridge as he changes form to the seven foot hulking monster he naturally is, built for dealing pain and ugly all day. Seeing him this way reminds me of the rest of what made chaos demons fun, but not soon enough. I catch the blast of hellfire square in the chest, with a force that shreds my clothes and flings me back against the hard, unyielding wall.
It hurts. A lot. I loved that jacket more than anyone on this stinkin' planet, and the thought of its demise brought tears to my eyes. That could also be the scorched flesh and cracked ribs, I'm not quite sure as the whole world has gone fuzzy. Smoke rose from the runes scribbled across my skin, still trying to channel away the energies. Once bitten twice shy, this private dick learned long ago to use protection and never left home without it. Still, as I slide to the ground and cough up blood I wonder if the best protection might be not leaving home at all.
I pick my head up enough to look the demon's way, a thousand little dwarves hammering in my skull and playing high-pitched whistles. It's prowling around in front of me like a cat with a mouse it's batted near to death, just playing a bit before the meal. Just then the world behind the demon stretches out and I feel a bad case of karma heading its way. A carved marble block the size of a Volkswagen bus hammers into the demon, sendin' it swirling to crater the wall next to me. Twelve feet and two thousand pounds of hairy ugly comes into view as he picks the hammer up out of my line of sight, and I can't help but give a chuckle.
"About damn time you got here. Thought I might have to do something myself."
He leans in over me and the world gets a bit dark and cramped for my tastes, then pokes me in the chest with his finger. "You're lucky I bother showing up at all. One day you'll have to deal, or die trying. Maybe tonight's still our lucky chance for number two?"
I shake my head and shoot him the bird, which seems to both annoy and satisfy him. In the meantime other trolls have shackled what's left of the demon in cold wrought iron. They drag the demon away like last week's trash, leaving bits behind to crap the place up. My enormous savior turns to walk away, and I give a snap of my fingers to catch his attention. Yup, definitely more annoyed than satisfied now. I point to the mushy pile of ex-broad in the corner. "Ain't ya forgetting something?"
He shoots me the biggest bird I've ever got, and I've gotten lots in my life. "I'm your partner, not a garbage man. Clean your own shit up." With that he walks back into the shadows and out of my life. For now. I shake my head. He makes a damn good partner in the grand scheme of things, what with the movin' from world to world through the bridges thing like stepping in one door, and out any other. Trolls just have a knack for pickin' the right "out" door. I wish they picked one that led to a shower more often.
I reach for a smoke in my chest pocket, and all I get is a lot of pain and blood on my fingers. Damn, I loved that jacket. No smokes, dead dame, and a world of hurt. Starting to look like just another night of shit smoothie. Guess I'd best get my ass up out of the dirt and get back to it. No rest for the formerly wicked.