Partner

This made me ill. Do not read if you are eating. Or about to eat. Or thinking about eating.

I'm thinking that Partners won't be updated again tonight. Because I'm evil like that.

And because I'm feeling all wibbly about working in this scene more.

Read, Review and Enjoy.




Mik slid into the helicopter. Paw slid into his lap. It took a moment for Mik to realise there weren’t enough seats for Paw to sit by himself.

“What is it?” Mik asked.

“The so called Aniege led us to it unwittingly. We’re pinning their name right on it and delivering it to the press. Aniege have released statements claiming to be the one word of god. They say that Sidhe should just die out and this… right at that MO,” Past looked out the window as the helicopter flew over the buildings.

“MO?”

“Look out your window,” Past motioned.

Mik and Paw both craned their necks. The city passed out from under them and the river came into view. Passing over it, it looked… brown. And something was floating in it with… two arms and a leg.

“There’s a body. Down there,” Mik said, swallowing hard, “please tell me that it’s not Sidhe.”

“It and a hundred more. Sidhe farm, it’s called, we’ve busted a few that have tried to get up and running. This one, no idea how long it’s been going on. Since your press conference yesterday and the hack, they’ve been slaughtering their stock,” Past said, raising his voice over the helicopter, “we aren’t certain how far gone the survivors are. A few may need to be put down. I’ve never seen a man survive after that much damage.”

Waiting for Paw’s word.

“Kill the wounded,” Paw called to Past, his eyes darting too quickly back and forth to be actually viewing the surface moving below him, “none of them still live.”

Past touched a finger to his ear, talking into some sort of headset.

“How many survivors?” Mik asked, deciding to dismiss the now dead Sidhe. If there had been any way to save them, Paw would not have allowed them to be killed.

Past paused, “none.”

Mik sighed and looked out the window. Bodies piled alongside the river, rivlets of red, murkiness trickled down to the river. A building, then another and another and several large fields appeared. The helicopter began to descend. Onto a field they landed and out of the helicopter they stumbled.

Mik kept his head down against the wind as Paw strode off of the helicopter as if it were a normal day. The Sidhe stood on the field, hands away from his sides. The creature stood in place as the upper half of his torso and his head moved from side to side like a snake testing the air. Mik passed Paw. The Sidhe’s look was completely feral. Anger curled his lip up, his eyes were large but still somehow he managed to convey a killing look. Paw’s mouth was open just enough to show the tips of his teeth.

Past edged around Paw and shot Mik a questioning look.

“When I asked if there were any survivors,” Mik turned his back to the buildings, turned to face Past full on and wondered if perhaps he was learning from Paw how to turn and spin his words, “I did not mean Sidhe. Where are the workers? The owners?”

“In chains, in the trucks,” Past motioned to the truck.

“Paw, the people are yours,” Mik spoke clearly and motioned towards the truck as the Sidhe’s green eyes moved to meet his, “do with them as you please.”

The Sidhe’s lip curled upward and for a moment Mik was certain that Paw would take him up on the offer. Instead Paw seemed to come back to himself and relaxed somewhat. Paw motioned to the buildings instead.

“Let us look there,” Paw murmured, walking towards the buildings.

Mik followed behinds Paw, with Past following him closely. The buildings were made of metal, hack jobs thrown together with holes through them to let air and water and cold in. The winter was unseasonably warm and so it the doors were thrown wide open. Only one bit of graffiti had been scrawled on the building, a declaration that someone named Colleen was great.

Mud churned underfoot and Past slipped more than once as they walked into the building. Hammocks of mended nets hung from the ceiling. Sunlight trickled in and lights flickered down the building, buzzing in Mik’s ears with their electric hum. In one corner was a running fountain. In the other a broken toilet. Down the center was a trough that was obviously used for food. The entire place stank of shit and vomit and too many people in too little space.

Mik’s eyes fell to a child’s toy, laying in the muck. One eye was gone, the other hanging by one little thread. He was caught by the sight of it, by the thought that children had been killed.

“Call Taln in. And Lillow. Can Lillow handle this Paw?” Mik asked, looking at the Sidhe. Paw didn’t respond, “Paw?”

“Why Taln?”

“Pictures. I want this all photographed he and Lillow can work as a team. Between them they can catch all the right timing and light. I want this in the papers. I want everyone to know that we are all to blame for this happening. We let this happen,” Mik paused and walked over to Paw.

The Sidhe stood still at the end of the trough, his eyes focused at the bottom of the trough. Mik reached out and touched Paw’s shoulder tentatively. He leapt nearly a foot in the air before turning to Mik.

“Are you okay? Do you want to go?”

Paw sighed out and wilted, then shook his head, “Fine, stay here, let’s… move to another building, yeah?”

Past sighed, “alright. If you insist, I’ll show you the next one, but you are not going to like it any more than this.”

Past led the way to another building. Across the door was a large red circle. Mik slowed outside it, looking at the drag marks between the two buildings. Spots of dark brown splattered the ground. Mik swallowed hard and entered the second building.

Nearly everything was covered in blood. With the recent slaughter no one had bothered using the hanging hoses to blow off the excess of blood. It dripped from rafters and pooled on the table with holes in it for the purpose of harvesting the Sidhe. Straps on the table, holes in the metal and buckets to catch the blood. The buckets underneath were overflowing with the stuff. Beside the table were several other tables covered in instruments. Butchering and dissecting tools. A plastic bin sat to one side of the smaller tables, labelled bones.

Mik stopped just inside the door and clenched his hands. The smell of spoiled meat met his nose, drawing his eyes to a pile in the far corner. He swallowed hard and fast several times.

The bodies of the children, too small to harvest, too large to toss in the river, were thrown in a jumbled pile in the corner. Limbs were disconnected from the bodies, mouths gaped at death.

Shouts came from outside.

Happily Mik left the building and looked around as he swallowed several more times. A helicopter passed over head as people dressed in military garb went running, shouting at one another. Mik called back to Paw and then followed the group of people. They collected and pulled to a stop, slowly parting for Mik as he shouted for them to make way.

“What is it?” Mik asked as he came to the front, “What? What is it?”


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