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Doing her best, with limited success, to ignore the pain in her fractured leg, she crawled backwards, instinct taking over. 

 

"John! John! Get your ass out of here! Run, dammit!" she growled at him, keeping her gaze fixed on the possessed youth - or whatever he (it?) was. 

 

SHe couldn't get up. She could only guess the splint on her leg had broken too. She was fighting from the ground, against an unknown adversary, Tazel gone. Not even her cane in her hand. 

 

"You see? I got what it takes!" said Carmen, defiantly to the youth. "I got whatever it takes!"

 

It was oh so easy to call on the infernal forge now, her rage was pure. Her hands, flat on the damp tarmac, pushing her away, started to fizz, steam, with smoke and fire licking the ground...

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And it was then that the boy stopped, and he looked at Carmen, and he laughed, he just laughed at her.  Her determination, even as the pain was lancing through her form.  Holding the cane parallel to the ground in his hands, he hummed an Alice Cooper song, as he skipped towards them.  Without missing a beat he brought his booted foot into the ribs of John then and he cackled in mirth over her.  His form shifting a little, it was like just as her eyes slipped closed when she blinked his visage changed to some monstrous countenance, as if her mind was obscuring what form he really was.

 

"You.  Don't   Get.  It."  Punctuated each word with swing of that cane against John, each one bringing a pained gurgling groan from the singer's mouth.  Raising it up again he smirked as he looked at her.  "Your world view is so simple.  So stark.  Which is funny, because of the stories being metaphor.  Ha!  Hail Satan! Is that what you are expecting?"  He laughed again, hard enough to snort.  Then pirouetting carefully, before hopping over John's prone form, and advancing to her.  "Spoiler alert, he loses.  He knows he loses.  Demons existed before him.  And... other things.  So much power out there, ready to plucked.  Even from others.  Did you know, you can take someone else's power?  It gets a little messy, but then if aren't willing to get your hands dirty..."  And with that he aimed the head of the Canto cane at her, as the other hand reached behind him to the small of his back, and pulled out a bowie knife, like something out of Rambo

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Pitch wince with every sadistic blow to John, feeling anger rise up in her. 

 

"Simple? You underestimate me, boy" she answered, twisting the words back at the tormentor. "I don't believe in good, or evil, or heaven, or hell. What I believe in is demons. It's not that they are evil, they are wrong. They don't belong here, on this world. Nor does anything else you might conjure up from the edges of the universe" she replied. It was half right, or maybe more. She didn't have time for religion, and she sure knew nothing about demons could be boiled down to simple. 

 

Nothing could be boiled down to simple, if you looked hard enough. 

 

"Simple just means you aren't looking" she finished, as much to herself as the metal head kit. 

 

"That being said, I don't like stealing!"

 

That was lie, given her youth of petty crime and rock n roll. But she didn't fancy the kids insinuations of what might be stolen...

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Flipping the cane about in his grasp to sing into the head like it was a microphone, crooning.  "Theeeeeeey dooooon't neeeeed yoooooouuuu tooooo believe in theeeeeeeem when theeeeeeeeeey aaaaaaaaaaaalreeeeaaaaady exist."  Stopping then and laughing, loudly. "Strong sentiment for someone who has a fiery little friend, hm?  You certainly keep him tethered here, don't you?"  Waggling the knife point as he as he started to circle the injured girl like he was a shark, that smile never leaving.

 

"Don't worry, you wont be any position to argument with my theft, hence the knife...  Mmm mmm mmm, you look... delicious.  Would have preferred it if you had killed yourself in the fall, buuut, there will still be some melancholia about you, I just love how it seasons the meat... if you will."

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Her leg did hurt, waves of pain coming from it despite the numbed nerve endings. She would need some serious help with the bones there. A vision of the bones snapping out of her skin briefly flashed in her eyes, making her cold and faint. 

 

"Getting tired of taunting, yet, boy? I enjoy watching you bash your head against a brick wall. I enjoy watching you fail!" she laughed right at him. 

 

Her hand came up, andwith it, a bolt of steel, twisting and tumbling, wicked and sharp. On another day, withot pain, exhaustion, and a broken leg, she might have smacked the kid straight in the head, with a satisfying crunch. Today, some masonry exploded by his side. 

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He still had to move to the side to avoid the blow of her chains.  "Yes, don't worry, I'll make better use of that then you will.  I am not the one deluding myself, after all."  And he made a gesture and ghastly green color swirled about his form, though the wave of green energy roiled over her like boiling water without much of an effect as she forced his power to part before her and splash back forcefully against the wall behind her.  A snarl on his face then in frustration as he looked at her.  

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I gotta get out of here...

 

The situation, even in her rage of defiance, looked pretty hopeless. Not without hope, but even a furious Carmen knew when the odds had stacked up against her. 

 

Travelling with a busted broken leg was going to be even harder than it normally was for her. Her only chance was to flame walk. Pass through fire. 

 

"A lot of talk, kid. You gotta lot of talk. But that's all..." she smiled at him, then turned and breathed a massive flame down the alleyway, a deep red flame, like dragonbreath, with sulphur as its smell, and smoke as its decoration. It sang of screeching metal as the fire flew down the alley, lighting the dumpster by her, the trash igniting in an instant. 

 

John was near...it was going to take all her strength and effort to get them through...

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"Do you think you get to beat me!?  You ineffable loser!  You pathetic worm!  Your only chance at succeeding in life is if you are a part... a part of ME!"  As he raged his skin seemed to grow more taut, there seemed to be cracks around the mouth and eyes.  It was hard to say, her head was all wobbly after all, and he kicked John viciously in the chin, before leaping over him, and moving to her.  He drew his knife, and he sneered ravenously.

 

"Don't worry... you stupid sow, I am going to make it hurt.  As much as possible."  He swung the knife point down and...

Edited by TheAbsurdist
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  • 2 weeks later...

"You got me...." said Carmen, her leg sending messages of pain up her body. Still, nothing she couldn't handle, she told her self. She had pains down that leg half her life. A few bourbons always helped. 

 

"...another day, demon. I haven't heard anything new from your lips!" she finished, smiling in defiance. She pulled on the chains binding John, and with an almight effort, rolled him and her into the fire...

 

...and out the other side. Both smoking and heated from the flames. Normally Tazel would protect her from fires, but right now, it was just another scorch and cinder. 

 

She patted herself down, looking at the fire they had rolled out of. Looked like an upturned drum, with some very startled tramps draws dropped as a man and a woman came out of the fire they had been huddled around. 

 

"Ouch...." she whispered. She looked bedgraggled, dirty, and even bloody. Hoperfully none of the homeless read Rock Report or she would be facing some difficult questions. 

 

On the subject of Tazel...

 

Where are you! I command you to reply! No funny games today!

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The bums were nowhere near them, scattering wisely at the barrel upending itself, and the swirl of cinder, flame, and ash into the shapes of people.  Only one person was still there, or at least the shadowy outline of someone.

 

'I am sorry Mistress... it wasn't as if I was struck by your thrice-damned cane.  Or anything.  Oh... wait.  You are lucky I was able to get to you before you left... that thing probably would have tried to eat me next.'  Came the snarky, if pained response from Tazel, who moved from the flames towards her. John was still more than a little insensate, he managed to end up on his knees, blood running from his mouth after the savaging from the Metalhead.

 

"Shhhhhh, shhhh."  Came a voice from the shadow as it walked closer, and snatched Tazel out of the air to the sound of fear from the demon.  As it illuminated him, she saw it was the guy with the Rat Pack love, as Tazel screamed incoherently.  The man slowly pushed his cigarette into the demon, and drew in a breath to light it.  Once that was accomplished he threw Tazel back to her.  "You know, little Canto, you are going to have to get your father's stick back from him."  And then he reached down to grasp at the good arm of John, and tugged on it, hard enough to flip him onto his back, before he started to turn and drag him away.  "Burdens we bare, hm?  Come along John."

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"Back from him?" gasped Carmen in cold shock. 

 

Her father was a man of considerable power and cunning. She had little doubt that he had had more skill in manipulating and binding demons than she had...although her birth tattoo was an advantage he did not have. Maybe he didnt need it. 

 

Where had he gone? killed, they said. Underground, cremated...not even Axel knew for sure, although he had sworn blind that her father had died. But would that stop him?

 

From the way Axel spoke about his father, he was not exactly a bad man. A badass man, maybe. He lived life to the full, on the road with his gang. At his worst he probably knocked off a few shops, armed robbery, that sort of thing. No doubt got into a few fights with rival gangs or street thugs. Axel told the stories. 

 

But if there was one thing that was clear, is that he didn't like losing. He was looking after himself. His gang, and, briefly, his family, they were important to him. But he was the kind of man who would have left a loophole if he could find one. 

 

The Cantos Cane maybe? or even...herself?

 

She felt the echo of him down her tattood spine. 

 

She was too shocked to move, for once. She just lay there, in the filthy street, jaw agape, as the mysterious smooth man took John away. 

 

"I'll get it back" she determined. "Although hell knows if I want it..."

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"I meant that sorcerer you found.  Believe me, if this was your father it'd play out a lot differently.  More an old tragedy.  But good to see thinking about that possibility."  He stopped and let go of John's leg.  "There we go, I am sorry John, but the lie does have to be kept," and then he produce a bottle and started to empty the dark brown onto him, or at least some of it onto him, before he started to walk over to her and started to dump the rest of it onto her.  "The ambulance is already on it's way.  So might as well explain this as a drunken incident with ol' John here.  It'll be easier to swallow, and that will make a good story for your magazine.  Though... I would imagine a thing like that guy you met, I figure he is the kind to have eyes on the hospitals, just in case."

 

He looked a little apologetic, as he threw the bottle down the alley a bit more.  "Got drunk and fell.  Remember that.  Ms. Canto."  

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Despite lying in filth with a broken leg, exhausted and battered, she visibly breathed a sigh of relief and even smiled. Her father was not the one to blame...

 

...probably. The seeds of doubt had been planted. But if this strange man didn't think her father was back from the dead, he probably wasn't. 

 

Life is too short to doubt...he's dead...gone...buried...don't forget that. Don't doubt it...

 

"Whoever that kid is, I'll get my cane back. I'll survive this, and I'll survive worse, don't you doubt it..." she said at the man. At least he wasn't trying to kill her, or fling her off roof tops, whoever he was. True, it was arguable how much the man was going to help her...

 

But I'll take not killing me for starters...

 

"I'll take my chances at hospital. At least till they plaster me up" she said "I'll use a wheelchair if I have to" she explained. "But what you ain't told me is who John is? why a guy like that can climb up walls and do all that crazy stuff. What is he, possessed?"

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"Seem to lay a lot of importance as to who someone is.  Which is funny, considering.  In the abstract, some avenging angel should come and smite you down."  Taking deep drag off his cigarette and looking at the girl as he stepped closer to her.  "He is Johnny Perdition, much in the same way you are Pitch.  I think it's because John Moore doesn't have much of a ring for a music career."

 

He moved over to her then and eased himself down into a crouch, his cigarette dangling from his mouth as he looked at her from behind those sunglasses.  "I am not going to bother to tell you that there is a lesson to be learned here, you're too stubborn to listen anyway.  But then, seeing as how that is the case I really don't owe you any explanations."  And then he reached out to tap her forehead.  "Now... Ms. Canto I need you to-"

 

...

 

"-stop struggling!"  Yelled the nurse.  And Carmen Canto was in a hospital bed, being strapped down to it by one of the other nurses, as the one speaking to her was helping hold down her arm as it was strapped in.  "We need to get this IV in, Ms. Canto!"

Edited by TheAbsurdist
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Carmen struggled in her sleep, with feverish dreams she could not recall or understand. Dimly, as it was when dead to the world, she was aware of the warmth of pain that flowed from her broken leg, but it seemed not to matter.

 

Did anything?

 

As she slipped back into wakefulness the pain  became more alive and salient, and her struggling became material. 

 

"Get off! Get off!" she yelled in a hypnopompic state. "I got to...I got to..." she screamed, not even recalling what she had to do, and not possessed of a direction even if she thought about it. 

 

"Aw, crud, put it in me..." she said, sinking back onto the pillow of the bed, sweating, heart beating, but resigned. She hated hospitals, all the check ups she had had as a disabled child, the poking, the prodding. There was no way she would ever feel comfortable in one, she could feel the anger about being in one. But on the other hand, she had snapped her leg in a crazy fall trying to Save Johnny - John - whoever he was. 

 

She sighed inwardly and outwardly. 

 

"Just get it over and done with" she said to nobody and everybody. 

 

How could I have been so stupid? I gotta get wiser about this - its not some regular demon needing an ass whuppin' - I'm tossed around in the dark - I gotta be smarter next time! 

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"Thank you Ms. Canto.  Thank you,"  She pushed the IV into the back of Carmen's hand then, she waved off the other people, though one aid remained nearby, in case.  As her vision clear, it was clear she was in an ER.  "You fell off a building Ms. Canto, I don't if you remember that.  You and your friend?"  She checked the bag, before moving over to the other side of the bed.  "What do you remember Ms. Canto?"

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"My friend? uh..yeah..." replied Carmen, looking around the ER, feeling nervous once more. Perhaps it was her distrust and antipathy towards hospitals, perhaps it was something more. With her life, feeling on edge came easy. Too easy. 

 

She wasn't about to reveal her power or identity to an ER nurse. So, a truncated version of the truth would have to suffice. 

 

"I don't remember much...falling off a roof...yeah...stupid of me" she said. "Looked down and my leg had snapped in two. I remember that...I guess I blacked out after that" she lied. 

 

"That's about it...but I don't remember anything about a friend? who was that? who brought me here?" she asked, greedy for answers once more. "I don't know what happened, all foggy to me. Maybe I bashed my head? what happened?"

 

Tazel? Are you there? where are you? she asked in her head, remembering the lying demon. Perhaps he might have a few answers. 

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  • 2 months later...

Hurt missssstresssss.  So very hurt, why must you apes be so... hurtful...

 

Came the presence of Tazel, though in this instance it was more a soft hiss than anything else.  Generally a sign that he had been wounded, or something akin to that, not that the flame demon was always loquacious.  From the feel of it, it was like her words were rousing Tazel from a slumber.  Which was possibly a unnerving thought.  Demons having cyclical behavior that mirrors humans in some fashion.  Chilling in a way really.

 

The nurse looked at her flatly, and frowned, still, arms akimbo so the backs of her hands were pressed to her sides, just under the rib cage.  Soft spot, easy to exploit.  Easy to get to the heart.  A wave of pain bit through the narcotic haze for a moment, and something else... nausea?  Hunger?  It was hard to define..  "Ambulance.  The ambulance brought you in.  Listen, I am not going to judge-" 

 

Lies, you apes lie.  It's as easy as breathing, as easy... well as easy as... sin.

 

"-But a girl like you should stay away from guys like him.  Even if you draw them like flies.  Trust me, honey, bad boys like that ain't apt to give you anything but suffering."  Despite the rough around the edges, the exhaustion of the nurse, it was clear she was here because of some sense of altruism, of duty to her fellow humanity.

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Carmen felt the narcotic haze fog her brain. But something about Tazel made her brain itch. A dull itch, to be sure, with the opiate cloud she swam in. Her relationship to Tazel, of all demons, was complex. As were demons. 

 

She had met plenty who were not, outright, evil. It was more that they were deceptive, wrong, an aberration on the fabric of reality. She was never to trust them, and yet, Tazel...bound tightly, a slave to the Cantos bloodline, could not help but press buttons in her. Responsibility, maybe. 

 

In any case, if Tazel was in trouble, so was she. 

 

"I'm a bad girl, I can handle bad boys fine.." she muttered, slurred speech. "But this bad boy...that's another matter..." 

 

Who was the nurse referring to? She had her suspicions. She bit her tongue to wake herself up, and grabbed the nurses sleeve. 

 

"Who was he? What did he look like?" she said, doing her best to focus on the woman, the sharp but dull pain in her mouth pulling her head up over the water of painkillers. 

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  • 3 weeks later...

The nurse's expression was puzzled for a moment, before she responded, "Honey, how out of it were you?"  Her brows knitting as she looked at Carmen.  "The tattooed guy, the country singer."  She waved her hand away at that, dismissing his profession.  Apparently she had been told how much of a bad boy he was, or something along those lines.  "We're going to moving you up to ICU soon, and see if there is a need for surgery.  But you will have to wait for a doctor for that, obviously."

 

For his efforts, Tazel remained... silent.

Edited by TheAbsurdist
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Perdition?

 

It could only be him. Had to be him, unless the webs of trickery went down, down further than her sanity could follow. But even if it was no trick, what was Johnny doing saving her? She thought the singer had wanted to kill her. In some ways, he nearly had. 

 

She had  busted leg, that was true. But right now Tazel was missing and so was her cane. And on top of all of that...the kid. If he had ever been a normal kid, he surely wasn't one now. Something had possessed him, maybe...or perhaps he was a demon on along. 

 

She should have noticed. 

 

"Nurse, my leg...its gonna have to wait. I mean, I can have surgery later, right? Right now I just need a wheelchair. I gotta go do something. I know you think I am crazy..." she sighed, knowing this was gonna be a fight. 

 

"...but I can come back tomorrow..." she said, knowing it was a futile task. It was crazy, she knew. But she had to find that kid again, in that hotel...

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"I am sorry Miss Canto, but you can't leave.  The damage to your leg is extensive, this isn't a matter of leaving under your own recognizance, this is... this is a matter of having a functional leg, at all.  I can't release you.  You may be able to convince a doctor, but that is highly unlikely."  She put up her hands as she started to move towards Carmen.  "You need to hold still, this movement isn't going to help your leg, dear, it is like a bucket of toothpicks, just stop... Nothing is that important, not your boyfriend, or whatever he is, not anything!"  The disapproving look was more than clear as she approached Carmen even closer.

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Much as she hated the Cantos Legacy, she found her left hand clenching and unclenching. She needed her Cane. Then she could see Demons for what they were. Was this nurse a demon? Where was this hospital? What about the doctor. 

 

Or was she just paranoid? High on pain and painkillers, and disorientated. The Nurse was being perfectly reasonable, after all. 

 

"OK, OK....I get it...." she said, slumping back, resigned to her fate. 

 

"Lets see the Doctor then, get this show on the road..." she mumbled. A second opinion couldn't hurt after all. And busting her leg up permanently would not help anybody. It was in bad enough shape even at the best of times. 

 

After all, the Nurse was being kindly, and if she responded to that with fear, she was lost anyway. 

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She looked down at the woman, and sighing, as she moved to check the vitals for a moment, and doing a visual check to make sure that none of the IVs or anything was dislodged, including checking the O2 sensor on one of Carmen's fingers.  "Thank you Ms. Canto.  I am going to leave you alone for a bit, and the doctor will see you shortly, and discuss what he wants to do with you."  She gave the younger woman a smile before moving to the door.  Glancing at the chart, for a moment, and then leaving the room, the door open, spilling out into the cold, sterile hallway.

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Carmen groaned. From pain partly, but from something deeper. There it was - an open door to freedom revenge, and quite possibly obliteration. 

 

Whatever I do, I'm going to be screwed...which ever way I turn, its a bad turn...

 

....

 

....Then do nothing...

 

It was as crazy a thought as any. Non action was not an excuse. One had to diffuse a bomb if it was going off, not just stand there and say "I didn't plant it". That was the easy way out. 

 

But, on the other hand, where had her fighting spirit got her? Nearly killed her, nearly killed John Perdentine. Tazel silent, either killed or taken over by some other entity. And she all she had done with her intererference was throw fuel on the fire. It was not her nature to sit still, and thats what they were playing on. 

 

So she sat still. If nothing else, to defy her nature. She gritted her teeth, screwed her hands on the bedroom sheets into knots, fighting against the will to act. Patience, patience, patience...

 

Just see what the Doc has to say...

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