Re: War of the Races [II] (Open)
Atropos Belladonna was running zig-zag through the lamp-lit street, her jacket flying out behind her in the wind like a cape. It was quite late at night, and the moon was but a glimmering sliver of light among the vast sea of stars. Atropos was breathing heavily, glancing over her shoulder every once in a while, out of paranoia. Like usual, nothing was actually chasing her, but the shadows in her mind had her convinced otherwise. She ran for her life from the imagined threat, her eyes alert and darting about.
She happened to be recklessly running in the middle of the street. There weren't too many people out driving at this time of night, but every once and a while a car or two would fly by her, blaring its horn and swerving to avoid crashing into her. As she reached a four-way intersection, she brushed past a motorcycle, pushing it over, and ran through the red light. For a short moment, time around her seemed to stop. Atropos saw it all in slow motion, as a speeding minivan came hurtling towards her. The terrified driver, a typical looking soccer mom, slammed hard on the brakes, causing the tires to squeal and smoke. It was too late, however, and the vehicle collided into Atropos with a sickening thud and loud crack.
Nightshade flew over the top of the van, spinning through the air, and landed hard on the asphalt behind the vehicle. She lay there on her back for a moment, observing the stars in the sky and ignoring the pain in her limbs, while the bones in her right leg pulled themselves back together. The lady who had been driving the minivan quickly got out, rushing over to see if she was alright. More damage had probably been done to the van, its front crushed in like a soda can, than had been done to Atropos. The lady looked down at Atropos, asking if she was alright.
"Fate has decided," was Atropos' response, and she thrust her hand into the air, pointing upward. She got up to her feet and brushed herself off. There wasn't really anything to brush off, but it was somewhat of a habit of hers. She then flicked her wrist through the air, and the worried woman was suddenly thrown down to the concrete. Atropos cackled like the madwoman she was and flew over to the lady, picking her up off the ground before she could run off. The lady screamed as Atropos bit into her arm. Nightshade reached for the shears in her boot, which flew through the air to meet her open hand.
The poor woman was struggling, trying to get her arm free of the psychopath's teeth. Atropos decided she would help her out, and with psychokinetically enhanced strength she used the scissors to separate the lady's arm from her torso. From fear and blood loss, the woman fainted and lay limp on the ground, bleeding out. Atropos dropped the arm from her mouth, spitting out blood. She was about to finish off her prey, when suddenly she heard another scream. She turned around to see a pair of panicked children, standing next to the stranded minivan, the woman's children no doubt. The screaming from them was like nails on a chalkboard to Atropos. She couldn't stand the sound. It had to stop. She forgot everything else she had been doing.
Atropos screamed for herself, drowning out the sounds from the children, and thrust her gloved hand towards the van. An invisible force caused the vehicle to topple over on its side, putting an end to the screaming and bringing sweet silence to Atropos' ears. Glad for the silence, she decided to spare the woman of her original fate, leaving her on the ground, where she would soon slowly bleed to death. Atropos put the bloodied scissors away in her boot, and started to walk away, satisfied and no longer paranoid.
As she left the bloody chaotic scene behind her, something large loomed over her. She turned around and glanced up at it. It was some sort of flying machine, built from a mixture of some glossy dark metal and luminescent blue organic material. It slowly began to approach her, blue tentacles reaching out from it, and Atropos examined it curiously. She put up her hand and waved at it, and it reached out and grabbed her. As soon as the cold blue tentacles touched her pale skin, she lost all sensation and fell into a deep sleep.
[x]
When she woke up, Nightshade found herself in a strange small chamber. The walls were all covered in a soft layer of blue moss, which lit the room in a strange neon blue fluorescence. A full length mirror was propped up against one of the walls, and when Atropos looked into it, she realized that she wasn't wearing any clothes. She looked around, and found them all neatly folded on the ground beside her. Admittedly, it wasn't the first time she'd woken up without her clothes on, but this time she had reason to believe she hadn't done it herself. Mostly because she never folded her clothes.
Suddenly, she heard a voice. "Atropos Belladonna." It seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere, all at once. As the voice spoke, the moss covering the walls pulsated, glowing slightly more intense on each syllable.
"Who?" Nightshade asked. The name spoken by the disembodied voice sounded familiar, somehow.
"You, Atropos," the algae said.
"Oh, yeah, right. That's my name," she said. "Who are you?" she asked.
The voice gave an inhuman rasp, perhaps a chuckle of sorts. "Call us what you will, it is of no concern. We were once called Kashreth," the voice resounded through the chamber.
Atropos sat up, crossing her legs and looking all around the chamber. It reminded her of solitary confinement. It had the padded walls and everything, sort off. The mirror was off, though. Solitary confinement would not have any potentially sharp objects. Atropos whistled, and the glass shattered into fragments. Still bored, Atropos started searching through the pile of her clothes, looking for her MP3 player.
Apparently tired of waiting for Atropos to ask why she was here, the voice answered the unasked question. "You're here to participate in the second intergalactic, inter-species War." Atropos looked up when the voice spoke, having completely forgotten about it for a moment.
"What?" she asked, distracted as she pulled her MP3 player out of her jacket, along with the earphones.
"You have been specifically chosen because of your uniqueness, and will be put to the test," it continued.
"Oh dear, a test? I didn't study for any test..." Atropos interrupted, not paying much attention as she searched through the device, looking for a song to play.
The algae made another rasping sound, this one out of exasperation more than humor. "It's called the War of the Races, we're throwing you and a bunch of other specimens onto a battlefield, only one will survive and return home. The first War did not go necessarily according to plan...but we've fixed that. This is a study, a test of the nature of different races and abilities. The winner receives one reward: their life."
Atropos tuned out most of what the voice was saying, and put the earphones into her ears.
"Don't think you can avoid the rules and escape. The only way out is to be the last one standing. How long will it take you before you give in, and take the lives of your fellow captors? Will you kill, or be killed?"
Before hitting play, Atropos thought over what the voice just said, twisting a few strands of hair between her fingers. "So...I get to kill people?" she asked, summing up pretty much all she'd heard of the conversation.
"Well...yes. That, or die."
"Sign me up!" Atropos said, her eyes lighting up.
"Already been done, you have no choice. Now, return to sleep, Atropos Belladonna. We will wake you when we arrive at Detalosed, the battleground." The voice was calming; in fact, soothing to the point where Atropos did indeed feel somewhat tired. The soft blue glow and soft blue ground seemed quite comforting, and before she knew it, she was sound asleep. Her last thought before she was out was regret that she hadn't been able to listen to any music.