Post by Val on Aug 4, 2020 3:16:25 GMT
Julian stood there and watched the cleaver slice through the various cuts of meat so many times that he had ingrained the maneuver in his mind and could envision his own hand follow the same motion. The grip on the handle, the positioning, the exact force required to hack through- say, an ankle? He observed long enough to lose his appetite before the greasy butcher suddenly planted the edge of the blade into the wooden workstation and disappeared into his hut. The man had followed this pattern before, except this was the first time that he removed his bloody apron on the way inside.
Several seconds passed and then Julian was on the move. He hadn't even entirely worked out a plan, but he knew an opportunity when he saw one and he wasn't about to squander it. He strode toward the shop at a pace that could pass for casual, his senses on high alert as he exposed himself to the few inhabitants of the settlement. The buzzing of flies could be heard as he approached the meat stand with his eyes on the prize. His pace didn't falter for even a moment as his hand reached out and deftly swiped the cleaver from where it was lodged into the wood. He tucked the tool into his jacket and kept walking, feeling that lovely surge of adrenaline that followed getting away with something.
When no one called out or chased him down, Julian continued straight through the ramshackle town and then looped back around to follow the river the way he'd come. While he hadn't officially come to any sort of decision or laid out a plan, as was his usual modus operandi, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own. Subconsciously, he knew exactly what he was about to do, but it was difficult to admit to himself that he was going back for Kinsley. He had plenty of time to work through the complexities of the decision on his walk.
However, "working through it" was a bit of an understatement. About halfway through the laborious trek, Julian halted in his tracks once again and pulled the butcher knife from his jacket, eyeing the blade as it glinted in the sunlight. He laughed suddenly, the sound loud enough to scare off any nearby birds, and shook his head at himself in disbelief, "Are you fucking kidding me?" he questioned himself aloud and turned around, heading back three paces before stopping again.
Kinsley's face flashed in his mind. He could see her thanking him, leaning on him as she struggled to walk with her missing foot, relying on him entirely to survive. The vision was so appealing that he abruptly turned back around and continued onward toward the cabin. It was easier to justify the decision for selfish reasons, and he found himself moving faster this time as he imagined what an utter waste of time it would be if he was too late.
Sweat had begun to bead and drip from his forehead by the time the cabin came into view. It was rare to see Julian in a rush, but as soon as the coast appeared to be clear, he closed the remaining distance between himself and the forsaken house. He almost barged directly through the front door when he noticed that it was nearly halfway ajar- not the way he'd left it. Immediately on edge, he nudged the door the rest of the way open and narrowed his eyes as it creaked on its hinges. He stepped into the foyer and his eyes landed on a knife that had been left on the floor of the kitchen. Instead of selecting the obvious weapon choice, he picked up an gnome carving he'd tipped over earlier and clutched it at his side. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he crept toward the bedroom, finding that it too was open and not at all how he left it.
Julian stepped into the door frame and paused, making direct eye contact with a stranger who had turned in response to his unexpected presence. The young man had been leaned over Kinsley on the bed, pressing a cool compress to her forehead. Now, however, he was regarding Julian with fear stricken eyes. Clearly Kinsley had conjured up some sort of story in which he was the deranged villain who'd mangled her foot and left her there to die- how apt.
"D-don't come any closer," the man stuttered, holding his palms up in surrender, "I'm just trying to help her. Please. I'll give you anything, just leave us."
Us? Julian visibly twitched. "You bitch," he spat, his words directed at Kinsley. She had so quickly latched onto her next host, like an unquenchable leech.
His eyes flickered over Kinsley's still form, finding a questionable sense of relief settle over him when he realized she was still hanging on. In fact, she looked better than expected- probably because of the fool she'd tricked into being her caretaker.
The man in front of him didn't deserve to be addressed, he was simply an obstacle that was about to be removed. Julian advanced forward a step and the man backed into the center of the room with his hands now balling into fists, though he was weaponless like a fool. He sized up his opponent quickly and, while the man was stockier, Julian had the height and reach advantage. With this in mind, he prowled forward with a vengeance. The man continued backing up until he bumped the dresser on the far wall. Cornered like an animal, the stranger lashed out at him with a poorly executed swing and missed. Julian cocked his arm back and swung the wooden carving, whacking the man across the entire side of his face with the solid object. A spray of blood stained the wallpaper and the clatter of teeth could be heard as the dislodged shards scattered beneath the bed. The man dropped like a sack- unconscious, but not dead. No...Julian had other plans for him.
Several seconds passed and then Julian was on the move. He hadn't even entirely worked out a plan, but he knew an opportunity when he saw one and he wasn't about to squander it. He strode toward the shop at a pace that could pass for casual, his senses on high alert as he exposed himself to the few inhabitants of the settlement. The buzzing of flies could be heard as he approached the meat stand with his eyes on the prize. His pace didn't falter for even a moment as his hand reached out and deftly swiped the cleaver from where it was lodged into the wood. He tucked the tool into his jacket and kept walking, feeling that lovely surge of adrenaline that followed getting away with something.
When no one called out or chased him down, Julian continued straight through the ramshackle town and then looped back around to follow the river the way he'd come. While he hadn't officially come to any sort of decision or laid out a plan, as was his usual modus operandi, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own. Subconsciously, he knew exactly what he was about to do, but it was difficult to admit to himself that he was going back for Kinsley. He had plenty of time to work through the complexities of the decision on his walk.
However, "working through it" was a bit of an understatement. About halfway through the laborious trek, Julian halted in his tracks once again and pulled the butcher knife from his jacket, eyeing the blade as it glinted in the sunlight. He laughed suddenly, the sound loud enough to scare off any nearby birds, and shook his head at himself in disbelief, "Are you fucking kidding me?" he questioned himself aloud and turned around, heading back three paces before stopping again.
Kinsley's face flashed in his mind. He could see her thanking him, leaning on him as she struggled to walk with her missing foot, relying on him entirely to survive. The vision was so appealing that he abruptly turned back around and continued onward toward the cabin. It was easier to justify the decision for selfish reasons, and he found himself moving faster this time as he imagined what an utter waste of time it would be if he was too late.
Sweat had begun to bead and drip from his forehead by the time the cabin came into view. It was rare to see Julian in a rush, but as soon as the coast appeared to be clear, he closed the remaining distance between himself and the forsaken house. He almost barged directly through the front door when he noticed that it was nearly halfway ajar- not the way he'd left it. Immediately on edge, he nudged the door the rest of the way open and narrowed his eyes as it creaked on its hinges. He stepped into the foyer and his eyes landed on a knife that had been left on the floor of the kitchen. Instead of selecting the obvious weapon choice, he picked up an gnome carving he'd tipped over earlier and clutched it at his side. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he crept toward the bedroom, finding that it too was open and not at all how he left it.
Julian stepped into the door frame and paused, making direct eye contact with a stranger who had turned in response to his unexpected presence. The young man had been leaned over Kinsley on the bed, pressing a cool compress to her forehead. Now, however, he was regarding Julian with fear stricken eyes. Clearly Kinsley had conjured up some sort of story in which he was the deranged villain who'd mangled her foot and left her there to die- how apt.
"D-don't come any closer," the man stuttered, holding his palms up in surrender, "I'm just trying to help her. Please. I'll give you anything, just leave us."
Us? Julian visibly twitched. "You bitch," he spat, his words directed at Kinsley. She had so quickly latched onto her next host, like an unquenchable leech.
His eyes flickered over Kinsley's still form, finding a questionable sense of relief settle over him when he realized she was still hanging on. In fact, she looked better than expected- probably because of the fool she'd tricked into being her caretaker.
The man in front of him didn't deserve to be addressed, he was simply an obstacle that was about to be removed. Julian advanced forward a step and the man backed into the center of the room with his hands now balling into fists, though he was weaponless like a fool. He sized up his opponent quickly and, while the man was stockier, Julian had the height and reach advantage. With this in mind, he prowled forward with a vengeance. The man continued backing up until he bumped the dresser on the far wall. Cornered like an animal, the stranger lashed out at him with a poorly executed swing and missed. Julian cocked his arm back and swung the wooden carving, whacking the man across the entire side of his face with the solid object. A spray of blood stained the wallpaper and the clatter of teeth could be heard as the dislodged shards scattered beneath the bed. The man dropped like a sack- unconscious, but not dead. No...Julian had other plans for him.
