Silver Haze
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
773
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
773
Reviews:
1
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 and a little creepy. I hold exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Silver Haze
Silver Haze
Chapter One
Downtown Sacramento was as big of a dustbowl as the rest of the west coast. Some of the abandoned buildings were so old they were falling apart at the seams. The roads were broken with erosion, no car had driven on them in more than fifty years, and grass along with weeds grew wild in cracks in the asphalt. The humidity and cool air that once graced this near tropic paradise was gone along with eighty percent of the ozone layer that kept this part of the earth green.
The years had not been kind to the environmentally crippled state of California, long since had the dry earth been cracked and eroded by the wind. Rain came sparsely and the few plants that had survived a few decades ago were long since dead and gone. The only thing that remained was the tropical trees, now desert trees that had evolved to withstand the extremely dry environment.
There was one building in particular that was only two stories and used to be a motel. The old sign that hung from the metal pole was rusted and broken from the rest of the structure. Laying on its side the word Holiday was the only thing legible on its peeled-paint rusty surface because the sand and time washed away most of its words.
There was no-one around for miles, no they had almost all left for the still green parts of the world, all except for a tall man who leaned against the ancient looking building, his dark clothing brilliantly contrasting with the pale and dull lifelessness around him.
His long, mid back length ebony colored hair drifted in the wind like a midnight colored flag and his sharp almond shaped crimson eyes took in everything, not leaving a single detail out. His face was pale skinned, like the rest of his body, and slightly feminine looking with his high cheekbones, full pale lips, and aristocratic features.
His broad shoulders and slender yet muscular arms were clothed in a white button up shirt underneath a crisp black suit jacket. On his pianist like hands were black fingerless gloves and his fingers tapped out a rhythm on the butt of his Desert Eagle forty-five magnum that was holstered at his slender waist. Loose, tailored black slacks covered his long legs that were crossed at the ankles. The dust and dirt did nothing to mar the perfect shine the man had on his black dress shoes.
The raven haired man stood a six foot four, silent as the grave as his sharp crimson colored eyes watched for anything coming or going from the dead hotel. The sudden sound of gunshots didn’t seem to bother the raven haired man though he straightened up and pulled his gun from its holster.
...
Hunter was sweating profusely and he knew it. The salty liquid poured down his soft slightly boyishly-feminine face and dripped onto the collar of his white button up shirt that hid the holsters of his two Five and seveN handguns.
He tilted his head forward causing long sandy blond locks of his hair to fall into his oval shaped azure colored eyes as he checked around the corner for his target. The sound of a gun firing and a bullet nicking the concrete caused him to duck back and slam his broad, muscled shoulders against the wall. Dust, dirt and grime collected on the back of his white shirt but he could care less.
He cocked the mechanism by pulling it back with a distinct 'chick-cha', whipped his pistol around the corner, and shot a few rounds before he moved his white-fingerless-gloved gun back to keep his hand from getting shot.
He raised his left hand, the plain silver ring on his middle finger glimmering in the faint light of the room, and pushed his hair out of his eyes, then wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He looked down at his hand and saw it was covered in dirt.
Disgusted, he smeared his perspiration and grit on his black graphic t-shirt he was wearing underneath his button up shirt which had its sleeves rolled up to passed his elbows.
He slid down to his haunches, the rugged yet soft navy blue material of his jeans tightened, defining his lean thigh muscles along with his firmly sculpted ass, and his black with white converse all-stars squeaked against the floor.
The target, who was a short burly fat man with a bald head wearing a loose bright red Hawaiian shirt with grimy khaki shorts and old white tennis shoes, had shot at him the second he stepped inside. Hunter preferred negotiation instead of hostility but he couldn’t always get his way, not that he ever did.
There was seemingly nothing else to hide behind Hunter grumbled with mild irritation. No furniture adorned the rooms except for the dirty futon that the target had slept on and the place reeked of old air, water, mold and human waste.
“Hunter…what is your status?” The rich deep voice came from his ear piece was defiantly his partner Elric who was waiting outside because there was nobody else on that frequency. What Elric was doing at the moment was probably nothing and it pissed Hunter off to no end. The blond reached his left hand across his torso to press the transmission button for the radio that was clipped to the right side of his white shirt’s collar.
“I’m getting shot at asshole, what the fuck do you think I’m doing, sipping a martini?” Was the blond’s smartass reply. He heard a rich deep chuckle from the other end of the line and already he wanted to strangle the black haired, red eyed man.
Hunter Savage and Alexis Edric were Bounty Hunters, and had been partners ever since they took out a target together five years previously. They hunted any bounty they deemed worth their time and did it with no questions asked. Sometimes Hunter wished he would have asked questions...but he couldn’t do anything about the gunho crackpot that was shooting a forty-five at his head.
“One would assume you were with how long it’s taking you. You are the one who insisted on taking lead today.” Edric asked causing the sandy blond haired man to roll his eyes. The raven haired man could be so predictable at times, others only god knew what his partner was thinking. Edric was three years older than Hunter who was twenty three. He had gotten his Hunter’s license when he turned fifteen and had been doing it ever since. The blond knew that Edric had been doing it just as long as he had which made them good partners.
“Fuck off dickhead...ah shit, he’s heading out the back! Thanks for distracting me asshole!” The shaggy haired blond growled at the raven through the radio before he took off after the mark.
“Damn it! Get your ugly fat ass back here!” Hunter shouted at the man as he bolted around the corner, only to jump to the side on one leg rather comically to avoid being hit by a crackshot bullet.
Though, he managed to step on the only empty bottle that could have possibly been in the place, stumbled and slammed the back of his head against the wall on his left. He fell forwards onto floor, holding his head while piercing agony went straight down his spine.
The blond winced, scrunching his eyes together to clear the concussion he knew he’d just gotten, removed his hands from his face and pushed off the floor onto his knees.
After spitting out blood from his mouth from the split lip from hitting the floor, the blond glanced to the side trying to find his gun. It was in sight but too far to reach so he tried to stand, putting his hand on the wall as a brace but fell back to his knees with a curse when the room started spinning.
“Hunter,” the radio buzzed to life in his ear. The blond shook his head a few times trying to get his ears to stop ringing but failed. He sighed and pushed the transmit button that was clipped to the collar of his button up shirt.
“Don’t start with me Edric, the prick got away and I have a possible concussion.” The blond growled out as he gave up on standing and just flopped down on his ass.
“Hardly, had I not intervened he would have.” Edric said as he came walking through the door the target had run through moments before holding said target by his arm. He dumped the bound yet still struggling man down a few feet from Hunter before he crouched down in front of his partner. The blond winced at the putrid smell coming from the man before he turned his attention to Edric.
“How is your vision?” the raven haired man said as he looked Hunter over assessing his wounds, which was only the one on his face where he ran into the wall. Seeing as he was almost seeing two Edrics he assumed it was okay.
“Peachy.” The blond said with a wince then placed his hand on his face, his sky blue eyes locking with his partners ruby red ones through his fingers. Hunter was glad he didn’t loose any teeth or had broken his nose. It was already bad enough he had a scar that ran through the middle of his eyebrow. Inexperience had nearly cost him his eye, or it was bad luck. Either one would do the trick.
“Your ‘peachy’ could mean anything, how many fingers am I holding up?” the dark haired man said as he raised one hand with three fingers up. The blond snorted, thinking the action was ridiculous and funny in the same right.
“I could tell you how many there are, or I could tell you how many I see. Which one do you want?” Hunter asked with a cocky smirk on his face. Edric just rolled his eyes and stood, knowing that even if Hunter had a concussion he would be dying anytime soon, the blond was harder to kill than a cockroach.
“I take it you have a concussion,” he said sagely, watching the blond watch him. Hunter had gotten many concussions before, he was either extremely unlucky or very accident prone, and Edric couldn’t decide which. None of the blond’s injuries were serious though because when the man was unlucky he was extremely lucky. The raven had long ago considered his partner a paradox.
“No shit Sherlock, took you long enough.” Hunter said with a smirk and ran a hand through his hair. Edric wasn’t worried because if the blond was being a smartass then everything was fine. There was something wrong in the world if Hunter didn’t smart off.
“We will rest for a few hours then head to the Bounty Station.” The raven haired man said as he walked far away from their target and sat on the ground cross-legged. Hunter watched him move, chuckled and shook his head when the man sat.
“Whatever you say boss. Whatever you say.” The blond said before he yawned and leaned against the wall. He was too tired to argue yet he knew he wasn’t allowed to fall asleep because if he did, he might never wake up again. So instead he started listing all the things that had gone wrong that day including waking up on the hard wood floor of their motel.
...
[Author’s Notes: Okay to be honest I don’t know how often I’ll be adding to this fic seeing as it’s a ‘Break’ fic from my novel. Anyway this is also a sample of my improved writing style so I hope everyone liked it.
Post-apocalyptic stories have always intrigued me. It’s one of my favorite story types to write, along with Sci-fi and Fantasy. Supernatural stories fit in there as well but I always love to write romance and it can fit in to any category can it not?
Well, anyway I know it’s short but I don’t want to put too much pressure on myself since I am writing 20 page long chapters for my novel. Writing is supposed to be fun, but when you turn it into work you need a break every now and then. ^^]
Chapter One
Downtown Sacramento was as big of a dustbowl as the rest of the west coast. Some of the abandoned buildings were so old they were falling apart at the seams. The roads were broken with erosion, no car had driven on them in more than fifty years, and grass along with weeds grew wild in cracks in the asphalt. The humidity and cool air that once graced this near tropic paradise was gone along with eighty percent of the ozone layer that kept this part of the earth green.
The years had not been kind to the environmentally crippled state of California, long since had the dry earth been cracked and eroded by the wind. Rain came sparsely and the few plants that had survived a few decades ago were long since dead and gone. The only thing that remained was the tropical trees, now desert trees that had evolved to withstand the extremely dry environment.
There was one building in particular that was only two stories and used to be a motel. The old sign that hung from the metal pole was rusted and broken from the rest of the structure. Laying on its side the word Holiday was the only thing legible on its peeled-paint rusty surface because the sand and time washed away most of its words.
There was no-one around for miles, no they had almost all left for the still green parts of the world, all except for a tall man who leaned against the ancient looking building, his dark clothing brilliantly contrasting with the pale and dull lifelessness around him.
His long, mid back length ebony colored hair drifted in the wind like a midnight colored flag and his sharp almond shaped crimson eyes took in everything, not leaving a single detail out. His face was pale skinned, like the rest of his body, and slightly feminine looking with his high cheekbones, full pale lips, and aristocratic features.
His broad shoulders and slender yet muscular arms were clothed in a white button up shirt underneath a crisp black suit jacket. On his pianist like hands were black fingerless gloves and his fingers tapped out a rhythm on the butt of his Desert Eagle forty-five magnum that was holstered at his slender waist. Loose, tailored black slacks covered his long legs that were crossed at the ankles. The dust and dirt did nothing to mar the perfect shine the man had on his black dress shoes.
The raven haired man stood a six foot four, silent as the grave as his sharp crimson colored eyes watched for anything coming or going from the dead hotel. The sudden sound of gunshots didn’t seem to bother the raven haired man though he straightened up and pulled his gun from its holster.
...
Hunter was sweating profusely and he knew it. The salty liquid poured down his soft slightly boyishly-feminine face and dripped onto the collar of his white button up shirt that hid the holsters of his two Five and seveN handguns.
He tilted his head forward causing long sandy blond locks of his hair to fall into his oval shaped azure colored eyes as he checked around the corner for his target. The sound of a gun firing and a bullet nicking the concrete caused him to duck back and slam his broad, muscled shoulders against the wall. Dust, dirt and grime collected on the back of his white shirt but he could care less.
He cocked the mechanism by pulling it back with a distinct 'chick-cha', whipped his pistol around the corner, and shot a few rounds before he moved his white-fingerless-gloved gun back to keep his hand from getting shot.
He raised his left hand, the plain silver ring on his middle finger glimmering in the faint light of the room, and pushed his hair out of his eyes, then wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He looked down at his hand and saw it was covered in dirt.
Disgusted, he smeared his perspiration and grit on his black graphic t-shirt he was wearing underneath his button up shirt which had its sleeves rolled up to passed his elbows.
He slid down to his haunches, the rugged yet soft navy blue material of his jeans tightened, defining his lean thigh muscles along with his firmly sculpted ass, and his black with white converse all-stars squeaked against the floor.
The target, who was a short burly fat man with a bald head wearing a loose bright red Hawaiian shirt with grimy khaki shorts and old white tennis shoes, had shot at him the second he stepped inside. Hunter preferred negotiation instead of hostility but he couldn’t always get his way, not that he ever did.
There was seemingly nothing else to hide behind Hunter grumbled with mild irritation. No furniture adorned the rooms except for the dirty futon that the target had slept on and the place reeked of old air, water, mold and human waste.
“Hunter…what is your status?” The rich deep voice came from his ear piece was defiantly his partner Elric who was waiting outside because there was nobody else on that frequency. What Elric was doing at the moment was probably nothing and it pissed Hunter off to no end. The blond reached his left hand across his torso to press the transmission button for the radio that was clipped to the right side of his white shirt’s collar.
“I’m getting shot at asshole, what the fuck do you think I’m doing, sipping a martini?” Was the blond’s smartass reply. He heard a rich deep chuckle from the other end of the line and already he wanted to strangle the black haired, red eyed man.
Hunter Savage and Alexis Edric were Bounty Hunters, and had been partners ever since they took out a target together five years previously. They hunted any bounty they deemed worth their time and did it with no questions asked. Sometimes Hunter wished he would have asked questions...but he couldn’t do anything about the gunho crackpot that was shooting a forty-five at his head.
“One would assume you were with how long it’s taking you. You are the one who insisted on taking lead today.” Edric asked causing the sandy blond haired man to roll his eyes. The raven haired man could be so predictable at times, others only god knew what his partner was thinking. Edric was three years older than Hunter who was twenty three. He had gotten his Hunter’s license when he turned fifteen and had been doing it ever since. The blond knew that Edric had been doing it just as long as he had which made them good partners.
“Fuck off dickhead...ah shit, he’s heading out the back! Thanks for distracting me asshole!” The shaggy haired blond growled at the raven through the radio before he took off after the mark.
“Damn it! Get your ugly fat ass back here!” Hunter shouted at the man as he bolted around the corner, only to jump to the side on one leg rather comically to avoid being hit by a crackshot bullet.
Though, he managed to step on the only empty bottle that could have possibly been in the place, stumbled and slammed the back of his head against the wall on his left. He fell forwards onto floor, holding his head while piercing agony went straight down his spine.
The blond winced, scrunching his eyes together to clear the concussion he knew he’d just gotten, removed his hands from his face and pushed off the floor onto his knees.
After spitting out blood from his mouth from the split lip from hitting the floor, the blond glanced to the side trying to find his gun. It was in sight but too far to reach so he tried to stand, putting his hand on the wall as a brace but fell back to his knees with a curse when the room started spinning.
“Hunter,” the radio buzzed to life in his ear. The blond shook his head a few times trying to get his ears to stop ringing but failed. He sighed and pushed the transmit button that was clipped to the collar of his button up shirt.
“Don’t start with me Edric, the prick got away and I have a possible concussion.” The blond growled out as he gave up on standing and just flopped down on his ass.
“Hardly, had I not intervened he would have.” Edric said as he came walking through the door the target had run through moments before holding said target by his arm. He dumped the bound yet still struggling man down a few feet from Hunter before he crouched down in front of his partner. The blond winced at the putrid smell coming from the man before he turned his attention to Edric.
“How is your vision?” the raven haired man said as he looked Hunter over assessing his wounds, which was only the one on his face where he ran into the wall. Seeing as he was almost seeing two Edrics he assumed it was okay.
“Peachy.” The blond said with a wince then placed his hand on his face, his sky blue eyes locking with his partners ruby red ones through his fingers. Hunter was glad he didn’t loose any teeth or had broken his nose. It was already bad enough he had a scar that ran through the middle of his eyebrow. Inexperience had nearly cost him his eye, or it was bad luck. Either one would do the trick.
“Your ‘peachy’ could mean anything, how many fingers am I holding up?” the dark haired man said as he raised one hand with three fingers up. The blond snorted, thinking the action was ridiculous and funny in the same right.
“I could tell you how many there are, or I could tell you how many I see. Which one do you want?” Hunter asked with a cocky smirk on his face. Edric just rolled his eyes and stood, knowing that even if Hunter had a concussion he would be dying anytime soon, the blond was harder to kill than a cockroach.
“I take it you have a concussion,” he said sagely, watching the blond watch him. Hunter had gotten many concussions before, he was either extremely unlucky or very accident prone, and Edric couldn’t decide which. None of the blond’s injuries were serious though because when the man was unlucky he was extremely lucky. The raven had long ago considered his partner a paradox.
“No shit Sherlock, took you long enough.” Hunter said with a smirk and ran a hand through his hair. Edric wasn’t worried because if the blond was being a smartass then everything was fine. There was something wrong in the world if Hunter didn’t smart off.
“We will rest for a few hours then head to the Bounty Station.” The raven haired man said as he walked far away from their target and sat on the ground cross-legged. Hunter watched him move, chuckled and shook his head when the man sat.
“Whatever you say boss. Whatever you say.” The blond said before he yawned and leaned against the wall. He was too tired to argue yet he knew he wasn’t allowed to fall asleep because if he did, he might never wake up again. So instead he started listing all the things that had gone wrong that day including waking up on the hard wood floor of their motel.
...
[Author’s Notes: Okay to be honest I don’t know how often I’ll be adding to this fic seeing as it’s a ‘Break’ fic from my novel. Anyway this is also a sample of my improved writing style so I hope everyone liked it.
Post-apocalyptic stories have always intrigued me. It’s one of my favorite story types to write, along with Sci-fi and Fantasy. Supernatural stories fit in there as well but I always love to write romance and it can fit in to any category can it not?
Well, anyway I know it’s short but I don’t want to put too much pressure on myself since I am writing 20 page long chapters for my novel. Writing is supposed to be fun, but when you turn it into work you need a break every now and then. ^^]