Comments | intrinsicworth: something wicked this way comes

intrinsicworth

something wicked this way comes

Nov 02, 2009 23:39

While Glen had decided long before that he would be attending the Gala on Halloween along with the Landons, he hadn't figured on the particular turn of events that would transform a good portion of the island population into zombies, mummies, werewolves, and vampires all from the era when movies when technicolor was still a thing of dreams and ( Read more... )

flagg

Comments 19

intrinsicworth November 5 2009, 02:26:59 UTC

Big Steve nosed about the jungle, heedless of his master's calls or the dire need that he had of him just then. The thing that had once been a dog but was now a wolf-- no, more than a wolf, ran with long loping strides, faster than he'd ever run, nose scenting the air with delight.

He crested a rise, threw back his head and howled for the sheer joy of it, calling to and challenging anything to come for him. The night belonged to him now.

Leaving the hill behind, he trotted back into the Jungle, paying no mind to the cowardly eyes that watched him from the safety of the darkness. If they wouldn't come to face him, then they ceded their right to it all.

Kojak, who had once gone by the name of Big Steve, practically flew through the forest that night, yet as he crossed a scent, he stopped unsure. It was The Man and The New Man, he knew. Kojak whined and started away again before he turned again, pawing at the ground, two instincts warring.

the_adversary November 5 2009, 04:12:28 UTC

After circling the house twice, Flagg decided the best entrance was through the cellar, two metal doors on a concrete slope secured with a chain that had given up the ghost decades ago. The rusted metal yielded easily, and once the doors were flung open, stale air wafted out and Flagg could see a set of concrete stairs descending into darkness.

For a moment, he simply stared, realizing he had no one to send down before him to case the joint; not even a fucking flashlight to go down with. He had nothing to be afraid of-- he was Randall Flagg, even on this godsforsaken island that meant something-- but still, it didn't sit right with him. Not without his magic ( ... )

intrinsicworth November 5 2009, 04:31:33 UTC

After a few enthusiastic kicks, Glen's head rolled to the opposite shoulder and he groaned, jogged awake by the pain. Disoriented, he brought a hand to the back of his head to still the spinning it was doing. His fingers came away clean. Thank God for small mercies, Glen had a moment to think before his air was choked off by the damned vampire cloak. The broach that kept it closed dug into his adam's apple painfully, but as Flagg, and he registered that it was indeed Randall Flagg manhandling him, pulled him up by his collar Glen's feet somehow found purchase despite the spinning world and the pressure slackened off ( ... )

the_adversary November 5 2009, 14:07:25 UTC

"I promise I'll shoot you if you mouth off?" Flagg suggested, sounding real eager to reach a compromise. He eased the old man down the steps with surprising patience, but why not? He had all night, and he could take as long as he needed-- islanders were used to people disappearing, and on a night when there had been zombies and god knew what else on the prowl, Bateman wandering out alone looking for his dog had been mincemeat. They'd just guess the wrong monster, that was all ( ... )

intrinsicworth November 9 2009, 02:13:15 UTC

As he was pushed into the basement ahead of the gun, Glen stumbled and then steadied himself as the light was thrown and the whole place illuminated in eerie movie effect lighting. Although his senses were still muddled, he had a moment to look in awe at their surroundings. It was like every black and white screamer that Glen had ever seen as a boy except that somehow Glen didn't think that the monster behind him had a zipper up his back under normal circumstances.

Beyond his first impression, Glen had little time to consider what he was seeing before Flagg shoved him forward again. Why is it that folk always delight in shoving old men to their knees? It's not like it's a particularly hard feat to achieve, Glen thought as he stumbled forward again, barely managing to keep his balance with each push. The ache in his head was interfering a great deal with his ability to balance ( ... )