Iron
folder
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
828
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
828
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Liz
There're rumours about her. Liz knows, has heard all the stories. Sometimes, it's that she ran from an abusive relationship. Other times, it's that she killed a man and now's on the the run from the mob. A small group tell people that she's a vampire trying to infiltrate them to kill 'em, eyes small and bitter over the mouth of their beer.
She's not the vampire, Marie is; and if anyone touches her, she'll gut 'em with a dull spoon.
She's not on the run from the mafia, or the mob, or the yakuza or the triad or whatever evil group runs the land near there; she killed a man well before she ran, justifiable self defense.
She's never been hit by someone she loves (her brother doesn't count, they hate each other they do and she always won), has no reason to keep running.
The truth isn't anything as glamorous as the rumours. She'd caught her girlfriend (and they were girlfriends this time around, dating in public and everything) cheating on her with a guy she didn't even like (just like the time before, and the time before that). While stalking dramatically away, she'd gotten hit by a car and landed herself in the hospital. After being in a medical induced coma for two weeks she woke up, guilted the now ex-girlfriend to bring her her backpack, and hit the road. She'd been there ever since.
Sure, it wasn't as exciting as some of the tales she's heard (really now, the president?), but it was exciting enough. When she tells people she escaped from the hospital after only forty-eight hours after regaining consciousness, she always gets a low, impressed whistle and a toast.
She leaves out parts, of course, like staggering down a street she couldn't for the life of her recognise and throwing up in the storm drains and her shoes, too drugged still to see straight. Doesn't tell people that she spent that first night 'on the road' sleeping it all off in a drunk tank surrounded by the stench of piss and shit. Or how she slept on the floor of the first crappy motel she rented, shaking too hard to clean the bed, listening to the heated argument in the room next door with the sheer conviction that she was gonna get shot.
People don't want here that sorta shit; she's a hunter, she supposed to be strong. So when someone slaps down a beer in front of her, flushed and nervous but still steely eyed, and asks if any of it's true, she tells them the same thing. That she was hit by a car. That she was in a coma. That she left two days after waking up with nothing but her backpack. That she's never been back.
Sometimes, after the bar's closed down and she's standing alone in the parking lot, she'll pull out her phone and stare at it like it knows all the answers. She considers calling her, her stupid ex-girlfriend-best-friend, the only person who she misses so, so much. Then Marie'll walk over, copper-brown hair spilled over her face again and green eyes swimming, and ask "Liz?" Or Carey will throw an arm over her shoulder, catch her in a headlock and then it's a challenge she won't back down to. And the feeling will pass and she'll put her phone away and forget about it, go crash in whatever dive she's staying in with whomever she's hunting with and forget all about it till the next time.
It's not that she doesn't want to go home, after all. It's that she can't.
AN: Written 08.02.07
Liz has been around in my head for awhile, with that exact back story. Making her a hunter seemed logical. She also had a kid in the other idea, so she might now or she might not. Liz is a kinda bitter person, but she's fiercely loyal to her friends (as you might've gathered). I like her.
She's not the vampire, Marie is; and if anyone touches her, she'll gut 'em with a dull spoon.
She's not on the run from the mafia, or the mob, or the yakuza or the triad or whatever evil group runs the land near there; she killed a man well before she ran, justifiable self defense.
She's never been hit by someone she loves (her brother doesn't count, they hate each other they do and she always won), has no reason to keep running.
The truth isn't anything as glamorous as the rumours. She'd caught her girlfriend (and they were girlfriends this time around, dating in public and everything) cheating on her with a guy she didn't even like (just like the time before, and the time before that). While stalking dramatically away, she'd gotten hit by a car and landed herself in the hospital. After being in a medical induced coma for two weeks she woke up, guilted the now ex-girlfriend to bring her her backpack, and hit the road. She'd been there ever since.
Sure, it wasn't as exciting as some of the tales she's heard (really now, the president?), but it was exciting enough. When she tells people she escaped from the hospital after only forty-eight hours after regaining consciousness, she always gets a low, impressed whistle and a toast.
She leaves out parts, of course, like staggering down a street she couldn't for the life of her recognise and throwing up in the storm drains and her shoes, too drugged still to see straight. Doesn't tell people that she spent that first night 'on the road' sleeping it all off in a drunk tank surrounded by the stench of piss and shit. Or how she slept on the floor of the first crappy motel she rented, shaking too hard to clean the bed, listening to the heated argument in the room next door with the sheer conviction that she was gonna get shot.
People don't want here that sorta shit; she's a hunter, she supposed to be strong. So when someone slaps down a beer in front of her, flushed and nervous but still steely eyed, and asks if any of it's true, she tells them the same thing. That she was hit by a car. That she was in a coma. That she left two days after waking up with nothing but her backpack. That she's never been back.
Sometimes, after the bar's closed down and she's standing alone in the parking lot, she'll pull out her phone and stare at it like it knows all the answers. She considers calling her, her stupid ex-girlfriend-best-friend, the only person who she misses so, so much. Then Marie'll walk over, copper-brown hair spilled over her face again and green eyes swimming, and ask "Liz?" Or Carey will throw an arm over her shoulder, catch her in a headlock and then it's a challenge she won't back down to. And the feeling will pass and she'll put her phone away and forget about it, go crash in whatever dive she's staying in with whomever she's hunting with and forget all about it till the next time.
It's not that she doesn't want to go home, after all. It's that she can't.
AN: Written 08.02.07
Liz has been around in my head for awhile, with that exact back story. Making her a hunter seemed logical. She also had a kid in the other idea, so she might now or she might not. Liz is a kinda bitter person, but she's fiercely loyal to her friends (as you might've gathered). I like her.