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ex3lev3n

Bad Things Happen To Bad People (IC)

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"I do not know what a 'hood' is," Orela said sternly when he tried to bluff her, "but I do know you are lying." She locked in the hold tighter. "Now," before she could finish she heard him call out for his friend. For all his lying, she did hear a bit of compassion in his voice. She chuckled when the shoe hit his head. She sighed, "Go check on your friend. Just know that I am watching you." She let him go. The throbbing in her neck became more pronounced as she picked herself up. Touching her neck, she found that she was still losing blood. All that action probably made it worse. She was already feeling lightheaded from the lack of sleep, the blood loss did not help matters. Still she was determined not to go down without finding what was up with all these crazy happenings. She just hoped she could make it to the end.

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Salvatore rubbed the back of his neck and staggered over to the wrecked car that lay sideways on the beach, ignoring the stream of curses his female companion threw at him. He investigated the driver side door and found that it opened without a hitch. Chucky was unconscious, and in bad shape. Nevertheless, Sal played to his weasely nature and sneakily grabbed Chucky's pistol from the floorboard.

He turned and fired the pistol at Orela, though his aim was off by just a hair. Uncle Tucker took the opportunity to pounce upon the Pugilist while her back was turned! Before he could claw the surprised Orela, a grappling line shot out from above and snared the undead vagrant.

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Great. Now Orela was surrounded on all side. Wait was that a grappling hook? She looked up and saw nothing. Well, something had to me up there, but it was obscured by the darkness. She growled and charged the plucky gunman now that the undead man was taken care of. She easily grabbed him by the neck, pinching down on his collar bone. She decided to take two birds out with one stone. "You see," she whispered in his ear, "you could have done the right thing, but now you have to deal with something bigger than you ever thought of." She launched him towards the tangled up vampire.

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"Aaaahhh-," yelled Sal as he flew through the air, crashing into the bound Uncle Tucker. Both men were bowled over, Salvatore knocked unconscious by the force of the Pugilist's throw, but Uncle Tucker took the impact of the squishy little human and merely fell to the sand.

The undead hobo began to chuckle, but he was soon shut up when he was dragged along the sand by the tether wrapped around him, then pulled up into the air to dangle upside down like a punching bag.

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Was the danger over? Orela looked around. there was not a soul in sight. Well, not a hostile soul in sight. She walked over to the hanging vampire and grinned. "Tucker. I want you to know. This was the worst mistake of your," she paused. This person did not have 'life'. "Let's just say this is your worst mistake you've made." The pain in her neck had went from sharp to dull. She was feeling dizzy a bit, but not so much that she couldn't see straight. "Tell you what, Tucker," she batted him like a kitten bats a ball of string and watched him swing. "Tell me what you know about the girl and the boy." She was stalling, trying to catch her normal senses. A ploy that she hoped would work.

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Uncle Tucker glowered at the Pugilist. If looks could kill, she'd be in some serious trouble. Angry as he may be, though, he was at Orela's mercy and resigned to his lot. "The girl, Rose, she's something me and the others've been snacking on for the last few nights," he said with visible perversion. He licked his lips and continued. "Nate's just a punk kid we use as lookout, but he got soft on us when the runaway showed up."

He smiled at Orela, something sinister shining behind his undead eyes, as if he knew something else that her threats couldn't pry from him.

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Orela held on to the helpless vampire's head. She'd seen so many sick bastards in her day. Her former family dealt with all types. This type of guy was just par for the course. Sometimes though, she could obviously tell they were hiding something. Some bit of information. This is when they used a bit of what they called... 'negotiations'. She was an apt pupil when it came to these 'negotiations', learning all she could. This helped her deal with some of their more... crueler methods. In fact, she had seen this scene before. Though real people would have blood draining to their head right now. She grabbed Tucker's head. She slowly turned it left, then right sharply to the ground. After that she whispered into his ear, "You see these places, right? They are very nice, no?" She covered his eyes with both of her thumbs and pressed down with a little force. Enough for him to feel it. She whispered in his ear again, "Now you don't. If you want to see then again. You'll tell me what you are hiding. Deal?"

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The noise that came from the vampire was unsettling, to say the least. It was a combination of primal fear and mad cackling, as though he was scared to death to laugh, or perhaps so jovial he couldn't produce human sounding noise.

"We.. we aint like the fancy-pants euro-trash vamps you," he choked on his own spittle trying to bark out the sentence, "like you see in the movies."

Orela found something uncomfortable about the way he said "we".

"It's caused by the bite... not draining someone to death!"

He howled wildly, all reason seeming to leave him as he delivered the news to the Pugilist.

"Welcome to the family, sweetheart!"

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The words echoed though Orela's mind. Was this true? Was she really one of them? She looked at the blood on he hand in... anger. Anger was the word for it. Something had been taken from her. Something she was endeared to very much. Her life. This was beyond words. The anger in her soul kept rising and rising until a few short seconds she could take it no longer. With a quick motion, she grabbed Tucker by the head and gave her 'father' his release from unlife. She had to find the boy and the girl. The boy might be a danger to the girl. And if not he could certainly answer some questions. This was not the end for her. She would find a way out of this. When the anger subsided, she surveyed the scene. One of carnage and death. She silently remembered her former life. In the silence and chaos, she noticed she had an onlooker. The girl from before looked like she had seen the most horrible thing in her life. And possibly, she had. Orela approached the girl in a friendly and calm manner, hiding the pain of loss within. "I know this all seems like a bad dream. Maybe one day it will be over, but for now, it is better to let the dream just be a dream." Orela smiled with remembrance. It was the line that her former family helped her cope with the horrible things she had seen earlier on. She hoped it would be of help to the frightened girl.

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The girl from before looked like she had seen the most horrible thing in her life. And possibly, she had. Orela approached the girl in a friendly and calm manner, hiding the pain of loss within. "I know this all seems like a bad dream. Maybe one day it will be over, but for now, it is better to let the dream just be a dream." Orela smiled with remembrance. It was the line that her former family helped her cope with the horrible things she had seen earlier on. She hoped it would be of help to the frightened girl.

The frightened, barefoot escort began to backpedal when Orela approached. As calm and reassuring as she hoped to present herself, Orela appeared a frightful sight. The blood from her wounds ran down the length of her neck and chest, soaking her FORCE Ops shirt.

"N-no, stay back! Don't kill me!" cried the escort as she fell back onto the sand, crawling backwards to gain distance.

The Pugilist heard the sound of a lifeless body hitting the sand behind her. Before she could react to either the escorts plea for mercy or whatever it was that made the noise near the pier, Razorwing leaped from his shadowy perch on the pier and slams his feet into Orela's back, sending her unconscious form sprawling into the frigid waters of the Atlantic...

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