The Fingers on Your Spine
- Eddies
- 74
Oh how the rain tap-tap-tapped across the windshield in the flickering streetlight, smearing the glass in a thick layer of the sky's very own viscera. Oh how beautiful that sound was, like a sad tune plucked on wet piano strings - the sky's last desperate cry as it peeled the morning mask from its own face.
That was what the thin man in the passenger seat thought, eyes closed and body swaying to a song in the storm that only he could hear. Slender appendages plucked at the air, red-steel tips peeling the darkness as they played the shadows like keys. Then the car accelerated. The storm battered harder the glass. The man writhed in time with the tempo. A serpentine hair escaped from his neatly pulled silver ponytail, then danced in spasmic pulses down his pale skin and over his red jaw as he threw his head from one side to the next. The storm shifted pace, faster now as the car turned another corner. Yes the crescendo now! The squelching of cruor, the raining of marrow, the last rattling gasp of the crowd! Pure, shaking exhilaration in its purest form - art at its most internalized peak!
Then it was gone. The moment passed. The sleek bodied Rayfield in charcoal black pulled to an easy stop outside some dead building on some dead street in this husk of a city. Still shuddering, the slender man lowered his hands and tucked them neatly into the pockets of his grey coat.
"We...here..." the driver's slow words bubbled in his mouth, drool spilling over his teeth pouring onto the center console as he turned to face his passenger, "...Mr....Quaid..."
The passenger's eyes rolled open and his neck creaked as he looked to his chauffer. There was a smile already splitting Mr. Quaid's face from ear to ear, the same chrome smile that he always wore - one that started with black hinges just beside his ears, then ran in black and red steel below his nose, over where his organic chin once was and then down what used to be the front of his neck until it disappeared somewhere beneath his collar. He smiled whether it rained or shined. Whether in pain or in delight.
So it was his eyes that told the real story - and his eyes were oh-so-bright today. "Oh, not for you - my sweet little thing..." Mr. Quaid's lips didn't move, but his neck came to life with a red glow as he spoke - a sweet, digitized voice playing through some unseen speaker, "...you can call me Rory, or Viper if you like. We are friends, aren't we?" a satisfied hmm escaped Viper as he reached out with a clawed hand and caressed the driver's face. The other man stared blankly back, cybereyes dull and glazed over as if with frosted glass - but even with his jaw slack and dribble still pouring over the center console - he managed to nuzzle his cheek into Viper's palm.
"Y-y..ye..." the driver stumbled over his own words, eyes fluttering.
"Shhh, shhh - just rest your eyes, sweet little puppet..." Viper cooed, bladed fingertips trailing the swollen stitches along the back of the driver's skull, "...I'll be back soon and then...we'll make you a star"
Leaving the driver to sleep against the door, Viper stepped out into the pouring rain and fetched a black briefcase from the back of the vehicle. He shut the door and looked up through a bladed hand past the rain and dying neon, searching the husk of a building they'd parked outside of for any signs of life. The windows were black or not there at all, either never built in the first place or having collapsed into the street some distant memory ago. A curious place, but one no one would suspect to find him and his Militech friend. Tucking himself into the lining of his jacket, Viper entered the building and looked for the nearest elevator.
Floor 123. That's where they'd be.
Minutes later the elevator doors parted with a hiss and Viper's dark, slender form swayed through the dim light and into the shadows of the room. Humming, he gazed out of the windows and out over the blinking lights of the city. The nearest building even resembling this one's height was half a city away, just as their contact preferred it. Without missing a beat of his tune, Viper approached the man sitting in the darkness - stopping in his tracks when a burly security officer stepped forward to block his path.
No doubt there would be some confusion. Harper had mentioned that he wouldn't be alone, but Harper himself was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it was only the empty gold eyes of Viper staring down at Dmitri.
"Hmm, well hello there. Hopefully you weren't waiting too long?"
That was what the thin man in the passenger seat thought, eyes closed and body swaying to a song in the storm that only he could hear. Slender appendages plucked at the air, red-steel tips peeling the darkness as they played the shadows like keys. Then the car accelerated. The storm battered harder the glass. The man writhed in time with the tempo. A serpentine hair escaped from his neatly pulled silver ponytail, then danced in spasmic pulses down his pale skin and over his red jaw as he threw his head from one side to the next. The storm shifted pace, faster now as the car turned another corner. Yes the crescendo now! The squelching of cruor, the raining of marrow, the last rattling gasp of the crowd! Pure, shaking exhilaration in its purest form - art at its most internalized peak!
Then it was gone. The moment passed. The sleek bodied Rayfield in charcoal black pulled to an easy stop outside some dead building on some dead street in this husk of a city. Still shuddering, the slender man lowered his hands and tucked them neatly into the pockets of his grey coat.
"We...here..." the driver's slow words bubbled in his mouth, drool spilling over his teeth pouring onto the center console as he turned to face his passenger, "...Mr....Quaid..."
The passenger's eyes rolled open and his neck creaked as he looked to his chauffer. There was a smile already splitting Mr. Quaid's face from ear to ear, the same chrome smile that he always wore - one that started with black hinges just beside his ears, then ran in black and red steel below his nose, over where his organic chin once was and then down what used to be the front of his neck until it disappeared somewhere beneath his collar. He smiled whether it rained or shined. Whether in pain or in delight.
So it was his eyes that told the real story - and his eyes were oh-so-bright today. "Oh, not for you - my sweet little thing..." Mr. Quaid's lips didn't move, but his neck came to life with a red glow as he spoke - a sweet, digitized voice playing through some unseen speaker, "...you can call me Rory, or Viper if you like. We are friends, aren't we?" a satisfied hmm escaped Viper as he reached out with a clawed hand and caressed the driver's face. The other man stared blankly back, cybereyes dull and glazed over as if with frosted glass - but even with his jaw slack and dribble still pouring over the center console - he managed to nuzzle his cheek into Viper's palm.
"Y-y..ye..." the driver stumbled over his own words, eyes fluttering.
"Shhh, shhh - just rest your eyes, sweet little puppet..." Viper cooed, bladed fingertips trailing the swollen stitches along the back of the driver's skull, "...I'll be back soon and then...we'll make you a star"
Leaving the driver to sleep against the door, Viper stepped out into the pouring rain and fetched a black briefcase from the back of the vehicle. He shut the door and looked up through a bladed hand past the rain and dying neon, searching the husk of a building they'd parked outside of for any signs of life. The windows were black or not there at all, either never built in the first place or having collapsed into the street some distant memory ago. A curious place, but one no one would suspect to find him and his Militech friend. Tucking himself into the lining of his jacket, Viper entered the building and looked for the nearest elevator.
Floor 123. That's where they'd be.
Minutes later the elevator doors parted with a hiss and Viper's dark, slender form swayed through the dim light and into the shadows of the room. Humming, he gazed out of the windows and out over the blinking lights of the city. The nearest building even resembling this one's height was half a city away, just as their contact preferred it. Without missing a beat of his tune, Viper approached the man sitting in the darkness - stopping in his tracks when a burly security officer stepped forward to block his path.
No doubt there would be some confusion. Harper had mentioned that he wouldn't be alone, but Harper himself was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it was only the empty gold eyes of Viper staring down at Dmitri.
"Hmm, well hello there. Hopefully you weren't waiting too long?"
