Beyond Ragnarok -- Ch. 4 Posted
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zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Legends/Myths/Lore
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Category:
zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Legends/Myths/Lore
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,042
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Full Disclaimer Below
Reflection
Disclaimer:
This is purely a work of fiction. Any descriptions or names that resemble actual persons, businesses, or locations are purely coincidental. Several locations are mentioned by name, however, it is meant as a point of reference. Nothing more.
The story is based loosely on Nordic myths, which (as far as the author is aware) are not attributed to a specific author.
The author receives no monetary compensation for this work. However, the author does hold exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
PART III - Reflection
Outside, Mark looked up at the broken window he had just exited. With a shudder, he shifted back to the form he wore among humans. It was an attractive enough body, one that he had fashioned after an arrogant prince he’d killed during the Renaissance in Italy. How long ago had that been? Five hundred years or so? He didn’t think Danielle had even been born than. If she had, she hadn’t been strong enough to be on his radar yet.
Mark could leave knowing that he had fulfilled his mission; Danielle would surely be dead within the hour. Still, he couldn’t let her go. Mark wanted to go back, to bandage the wounds he had made on her body. He knew that if he did, her people would find him. They would kill him, regardless of any affection he felt toward Danielle. From the look in her eyes when he had shifted, Danielle would probably lead the lynch mob.
He should just let her die. That was his job. That was his purpose in life. But there was more to it than that.
He reached the car parked down the street from Danielle’s house and pulled a disposable cell phone out of the glove compartment. His phone, and all of his other belongings, had been in the house, but Mark carried a back-up just in case. There was also a change of clothes in the trunk that he would don before anyone saw him wandering around naked in the middle of the night.
Mark dialed 9-1-1. He’d decided that he would leave it to the fates. If the humans could save her, then so be it.
“9-1-1, what’s the nature of you’re emergency?” The operator sounded bored. It was late enough that many in the city had already turned in for the night, she was likely getting tired herself.
Mark tried to keep the panic out of his voice when he responded. “Hi, um, I heard the sound of breaking glass over at my neighbor’s house. I went out to look and the window to the master bedroom is broken. I think someone just broke into her house.”
“Can you see anyone inside, sir?” The dispatch officer seemed to come to life at the prospect of a real emergency.
“No, but her car is in the driveway,” Mark was usually fascinated by the way humans reacted to violence, but right now it just irritated him. “Oh wait, there’s a man in her bedroom.”
“Ok, we’ll send someone over to check it out.” The sound of the attendant’s fingers pounding out the information on her keyboard was clearly audible through the earpiece of the cheap little phone.
“Thank you,” Mark breathed a sigh of relief. He gave the address and hung up before the attendant could ask for any of his information.
Mark turned the key in the ignition of his four-cylinder sports car, but waited until he could hear sirens in the distance before putting the little car into gear and pulling away from the curb.
When he reached 696, Mark finally breathed a sigh of relief. He would pull over at the next rest area to put on some clothes and would then call his contact. Hrothield would line up an airline ticket for him, and he would fly to Nome in the morning.
He glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, and noticed that some of her blood was still on one of his knuckles. He brought the hand to his mouth and licked the potent reminder off of his hand. The taste of the endorphins and arousal in her blood was tantalizingly sweet. He tasted something else though. Realization spread through his brain and almost drove him off the highway. If she lived, everything would change.
This is purely a work of fiction. Any descriptions or names that resemble actual persons, businesses, or locations are purely coincidental. Several locations are mentioned by name, however, it is meant as a point of reference. Nothing more.
The story is based loosely on Nordic myths, which (as far as the author is aware) are not attributed to a specific author.
The author receives no monetary compensation for this work. However, the author does hold exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Outside, Mark looked up at the broken window he had just exited. With a shudder, he shifted back to the form he wore among humans. It was an attractive enough body, one that he had fashioned after an arrogant prince he’d killed during the Renaissance in Italy. How long ago had that been? Five hundred years or so? He didn’t think Danielle had even been born than. If she had, she hadn’t been strong enough to be on his radar yet.
Mark could leave knowing that he had fulfilled his mission; Danielle would surely be dead within the hour. Still, he couldn’t let her go. Mark wanted to go back, to bandage the wounds he had made on her body. He knew that if he did, her people would find him. They would kill him, regardless of any affection he felt toward Danielle. From the look in her eyes when he had shifted, Danielle would probably lead the lynch mob.
He should just let her die. That was his job. That was his purpose in life. But there was more to it than that.
He reached the car parked down the street from Danielle’s house and pulled a disposable cell phone out of the glove compartment. His phone, and all of his other belongings, had been in the house, but Mark carried a back-up just in case. There was also a change of clothes in the trunk that he would don before anyone saw him wandering around naked in the middle of the night.
Mark dialed 9-1-1. He’d decided that he would leave it to the fates. If the humans could save her, then so be it.
“9-1-1, what’s the nature of you’re emergency?” The operator sounded bored. It was late enough that many in the city had already turned in for the night, she was likely getting tired herself.
Mark tried to keep the panic out of his voice when he responded. “Hi, um, I heard the sound of breaking glass over at my neighbor’s house. I went out to look and the window to the master bedroom is broken. I think someone just broke into her house.”
“Can you see anyone inside, sir?” The dispatch officer seemed to come to life at the prospect of a real emergency.
“No, but her car is in the driveway,” Mark was usually fascinated by the way humans reacted to violence, but right now it just irritated him. “Oh wait, there’s a man in her bedroom.”
“Ok, we’ll send someone over to check it out.” The sound of the attendant’s fingers pounding out the information on her keyboard was clearly audible through the earpiece of the cheap little phone.
“Thank you,” Mark breathed a sigh of relief. He gave the address and hung up before the attendant could ask for any of his information.
Mark turned the key in the ignition of his four-cylinder sports car, but waited until he could hear sirens in the distance before putting the little car into gear and pulling away from the curb.
When he reached 696, Mark finally breathed a sigh of relief. He would pull over at the next rest area to put on some clothes and would then call his contact. Hrothield would line up an airline ticket for him, and he would fly to Nome in the morning.
He glanced down at his hands on the steering wheel, and noticed that some of her blood was still on one of his knuckles. He brought the hand to his mouth and licked the potent reminder off of his hand. The taste of the endorphins and arousal in her blood was tantalizingly sweet. He tasted something else though. Realization spread through his brain and almost drove him off the highway. If she lived, everything would change.