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Description
The only sound in the kitchen was that of Pepper's silverware. Her fork and knife clanked on the plate as she cut her chicken into bite sized pieces. Gerry pushed his broccoli around in a puddle of cheese sauce.

"Just going to play with dinner tonight?" She asked.

He looked up then back down at the pale lump of chicken and the veggies that seemed too green. "Sorry, I'm not real hungry."

"What's on your mind?"

He stabbed the broccoli gently with his fork, the resulting crunch was almost pleasant. "Lots of things I guess..."

"Are you going to tell me what happened to your face?" Her eyes were serious.

"I just took a little tumble. It's not a big deal."

"Where? It looked like you got motor oil or something all over your clothes. I don't know if that's going to come out."

He shove the vegetable in his mouth the buy himself time. As he munched he couldn't help but notice the lines between her eyebrows growing deeper. "I was changing a light in the alley, I just slipped in the snow."

She picked at her plate. "Honestly?"

"Yeah."

She sat her utensils down and stood. "I'm going to take a shower." She stopped at the doorway. "I don't like being lied to Gerry."

Al's head throbbed and her vision blurred as she stumbled down the street. Even bundled in her coat she couldn't avoid the stares and careful glances. Maybe it was her uneven gate, or the dark circles under her eyes, but more than likely it was the trail of blood running from her nose. Still none of it concerned people enough to offer aid.

Soon there were no more people to stare, the cold night having driven them indoors. The walk seemed much longer with her brain trying desperately to escape her skull. She staggered further, she just had to make it home before it began to snow again. If the forecast was right the three to four inches would cover the soot marks on the concrete and brick of the alley. In a few days there would be no evidence left at all.
Boots crunching in the snow caught her attention, they stopped just ahead of her.

"Interesting disguise. A rather unusual choice, but it's no good. I don't hunt by sight."

Her head felt like it weighted a hundred pounds as she lifted it to get a look at Spite's cocky face. It didn't remain that way for long.

"What happened to you? Were you attacked? Is there another male here?"

Al blinked at him as his words bounced around in her head. Her first attempt at responding resulted on her choking on a blood clot. She coughed and spat. She sniffled and nearly gagged again.

"No." She croaked. "Just you." She licked her lip. This wasn't good. At her best, escaping Spite had been a challenge. There was no way in Hell she could take him in her condition, just standing was a chore.

He looked her up and down.

"Don't." She muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Men are not allowed to appraise me like fucking meat." She sniffled again as her legs wobbled. "I need time."

He cocked his head to the side.

"I just need a little more time. If you take me out now, this territory isn't going to be any good for anyone." She dropped to her knees. "Just give me a few weeks, once I've done what I have to... Once I'm done with that, I don't care you can have this city."

"What makes you think I want this city?"

She balled her fists and tears rolled down her cheeks in frustration. "I don't care, okay! I just have to see this through!"

"So, just a few weeks and you'll give up?"

She let her head fall, her hair brushing the walkway. "Yes."

His voice lifted cheerfully."Hmm. Works for me." He stepped closer. "Anything I can do to help? Take you home?"

She coughed and spat as she pushed herself back up. "You can get rid of this." She dug in her pocket and placed the blackened, skeletal remains of a box cutter into his hands. "I ran out of juice before I could..."

"Get rid of it? Like throw it in the mountains or the ocean?"

She shook her head. "Like throw it into the fires of fucking Mordor. I want it destroyed."

"Mordor?"

"I can do it myself."

"No, I'll see that it's taken care of." He wrapped his fingers around the metal and grinned. "See you in a couple weeks."

Gerry's eyes popped open, but his dreams followed him in the form of whispers dancing around the room. The unintelligible chatter continued a few seconds as he gripped his blanket against his chest. His eyes darted around, shadows taking shape into recognizable objects. A dresser, closet door, a lamp...

His stomach clenched painfully. He balled up and sucked air in between his teeth. Pain struck again, like claws shredding his innards.

Once it receded he glanced over his shoulder. Pepper was still slumbering peacefully. He sat up carefully and crept from the bed. He tiptoed to the door, turning to check on Pepper again before sneaking into the kitchen.

Kit perked up from his place in front of the fire. He hopped up and followed Gerry to the refrigerator. Gerry pushed aside the leftover chicken that looked even more pallid than before. Suddenly an irresistible scent hit his nose, he parted the bottled drinks to reveal a beautiful roast. The bright red flesh beckoned to him from its plastic wrap tomb. He gnawed at his fingernails and glanced back toward the bed room. His mouth watered. It was too much.

He grabbed the package and sat down on the floor, he let the door of the fridge rest on his back so that he could have the light. He poked a whole in the wrapper and the smell of blood assaulted his senses anew. He ripped the plastic and brought the tray to his lips. The cold blood ran down his throat. He gasped for breath and licked his lips before snatching up the meat and tearing into it. He sucked the juice from the flesh leaving patches grey. Crimson smeared across his face as he devoured. Oh, God, why had he waited so long to do this again? It was so good.

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

The light flashed on .

His heart nearly stopped in his chest as he looked toward the door to see Pepper staring at him, her jaw agape and her eyes wide.

He dropped the roast to the floor with a sickening thud.

Oh, God...

Description
The only sound in the kitchen was that of Pepper's silverware. Her fork and knife clanked on the plate as she cut her chicken into bite sized pieces. Gerry pushed his broccoli around in a puddle of cheese sauce.

"Just going to play with dinner tonight?" She asked.

He looked up then back down at the pale lump of chicken and the veggies that seemed too green. "Sorry, I'm not real hungry."

"What's on your mind?"

He stabbed the broccoli gently with his fork, the resulting crunch was almost pleasant. "Lots of things I guess..."

"Are you going to tell me what happened to your face?" Her eyes were serious.

"I just took a little tumble. It's not a big deal."

"Where? It looked like you got motor oil or something all over your clothes. I don't know if that's going to come out."

He shove the vegetable in his mouth the buy himself time. As he munched he couldn't help but notice the lines between her eyebrows growing deeper. "I was changing a light in the alley, I just slipped in the snow."

She picked at her plate. "Honestly?"

"Yeah."

She sat her utensils down and stood. "I'm going to take a shower." She stopped at the doorway. "I don't like being lied to Gerry."

Al's head throbbed and her vision blurred as she stumbled down the street. Even bundled in her coat she couldn't avoid the stares and careful glances. Maybe it was her uneven gate, or the dark circles under her eyes, but more than likely it was the trail of blood running from her nose. Still none of it concerned people enough to offer aid.

Soon there were no more people to stare, the cold night having driven them indoors. The walk seemed much longer with her brain trying desperately to escape her skull. She staggered further, she just had to make it home before it began to snow again. If the forecast was right the three to four inches would cover the soot marks on the concrete and brick of the alley. In a few days there would be no evidence left at all.
Boots crunching in the snow caught her attention, they stopped just ahead of her.

"Interesting disguise. A rather unusual choice, but it's no good. I don't hunt by sight."

Her head felt like it weighted a hundred pounds as she lifted it to get a look at Spite's cocky face. It didn't remain that way for long.

"What happened to you? Were you attacked? Is there another male here?"

Al blinked at him as his words bounced around in her head. Her first attempt at responding resulted on her choking on a blood clot. She coughed and spat. She sniffled and nearly gagged again.

"No." She croaked. "Just you." She licked her lip. This wasn't good. At her best, escaping Spite had been a challenge. There was no way in Hell she could take him in her condition, just standing was a chore.

He looked her up and down.

"Don't." She muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Men are not allowed to appraise me like fucking meat." She sniffled again as her legs wobbled. "I need time."

He cocked his head to the side.

"I just need a little more time. If you take me out now, this territory isn't going to be any good for anyone." She dropped to her knees. "Just give me a few weeks, once I've done what I have to... Once I'm done with that, I don't care you can have this city."

"What makes you think I want this city?"

She balled her fists and tears rolled down her cheeks in frustration. "I don't care, okay! I just have to see this through!"

"So, just a few weeks and you'll give up?"

She let her head fall, her hair brushing the walkway. "Yes."

His voice lifted cheerfully."Hmm. Works for me." He stepped closer. "Anything I can do to help? Take you home?"

She coughed and spat as she pushed herself back up. "You can get rid of this." She dug in her pocket and placed the blackened, skeletal remains of a box cutter into his hands. "I ran out of juice before I could..."

"Get rid of it? Like throw it in the mountains or the ocean?"

She shook her head. "Like throw it into the fires of fucking Mordor. I want it destroyed."

"Mordor?"

"I can do it myself."

"No, I'll see that it's taken care of." He wrapped his fingers around the metal and grinned. "See you in a couple weeks."

Gerry's eyes popped open, but his dreams followed him in the form of whispers dancing around the room. The unintelligible chatter continued a few seconds as he gripped his blanket against his chest. His eyes darted around, shadows taking shape into recognizable objects. A dresser, closet door, a lamp...

His stomach clenched painfully. He balled up and sucked air in between his teeth. Pain struck again, like claws shredding his innards.

Once it receded he glanced over his shoulder. Pepper was still slumbering peacefully. He sat up carefully and crept from the bed. He tiptoed to the door, turning to check on Pepper again before sneaking into the kitchen.

Kit perked up from his place in front of the fire. He hopped up and followed Gerry to the refrigerator. Gerry pushed aside the leftover chicken that looked even more pallid than before. Suddenly an irresistible scent hit his nose, he parted the bottled drinks to reveal a beautiful roast. The bright red flesh beckoned to him from its plastic wrap tomb. He gnawed at his fingernails and glanced back toward the bed room. His mouth watered. It was too much.

He grabbed the package and sat down on the floor, he let the door of the fridge rest on his back so that he could have the light. He poked a whole in the wrapper and the smell of blood assaulted his senses anew. He ripped the plastic and brought the tray to his lips. The cold blood ran down his throat. He gasped for breath and licked his lips before snatching up the meat and tearing into it. He sucked the juice from the flesh leaving patches grey. Crimson smeared across his face as he devoured. Oh, God, why had he waited so long to do this again? It was so good.

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

The light flashed on .

His heart nearly stopped in his chest as he looked toward the door to see Pepper staring at him, her jaw agape and her eyes wide.

He dropped the roast to the floor with a sickening thud.

Oh, God...