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31_days2008-02-11 07:44 pm
bane-6.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-02-11 07:44 pm
[Date] [The Crow] Ounce of Prevention
Title: Ounce of Prevention
Day/Theme: Feb. 11 - "Confess and be hanged"
Series: The Crow
Character/Pairing: An OC Crow, and Sahvo (also OC)
Rating:
The setup was elaborate. Especially for a clearing in the middle of nowhere. There were two bear traps and two saplings bent at painful angles. Lengths of chain and twine made up the rest. The trigger was in the middle. Over it, holding a cinder block in a hand too white and unshaking to be natural, stood the dead man. Sahvo wasn’t a genius, but he could see where this was going.
When the trigger was hit, both bear traps would snap shut, one on his legs, tied together, and one on his arms, tied over his head. The saplings would be released and he would be yanked in half. The good news was that he was so cold, he probably wouldn’t feel it.
“I swear to you,” he sobbed for the hundredth time. “I had nothing to do with it. I was there, but it wasn’t my idea! I didn’t even do anything.”
“You had the gun.” The dead man said. It was the first time he had spoken. It gave Sahvo some hope.
“Hey! I didn’t even get it out, man! Didn’t touch it.”
“You could have.”
“Could have?? You’re holding a cinder block over Hell’s own bear trap because of what I COULD’VE done??”
“You could’ve saved us,” the dead man said. “You were there. It wasn’t your idea to let us drown. You could’ve stopped what happened.”
He looked at Sahvo. His bearded face was the same blue-white as the ice he’d gone through. Him and the girl. Frostbite had left black around the eyes and mouth.
“But,” the dead man went on. “It’s like you said. You didn’t do ANYTHING.” Then, he dropped the cinder block. Anything Sahvo might’ve said was drowned in the sound of flesh tearing. Blood sprayed over the snow in two directions, leaving a stain like wings on either side of the dead man.
Day/Theme: Feb. 11 - "Confess and be hanged"
Series: The Crow
Character/Pairing: An OC Crow, and Sahvo (also OC)
Rating:
The setup was elaborate. Especially for a clearing in the middle of nowhere. There were two bear traps and two saplings bent at painful angles. Lengths of chain and twine made up the rest. The trigger was in the middle. Over it, holding a cinder block in a hand too white and unshaking to be natural, stood the dead man. Sahvo wasn’t a genius, but he could see where this was going.
When the trigger was hit, both bear traps would snap shut, one on his legs, tied together, and one on his arms, tied over his head. The saplings would be released and he would be yanked in half. The good news was that he was so cold, he probably wouldn’t feel it.
“I swear to you,” he sobbed for the hundredth time. “I had nothing to do with it. I was there, but it wasn’t my idea! I didn’t even do anything.”
“You had the gun.” The dead man said. It was the first time he had spoken. It gave Sahvo some hope.
“Hey! I didn’t even get it out, man! Didn’t touch it.”
“You could have.”
“Could have?? You’re holding a cinder block over Hell’s own bear trap because of what I COULD’VE done??”
“You could’ve saved us,” the dead man said. “You were there. It wasn’t your idea to let us drown. You could’ve stopped what happened.”
He looked at Sahvo. His bearded face was the same blue-white as the ice he’d gone through. Him and the girl. Frostbite had left black around the eyes and mouth.
“But,” the dead man went on. “It’s like you said. You didn’t do ANYTHING.” Then, he dropped the cinder block. Anything Sahvo might’ve said was drowned in the sound of flesh tearing. Blood sprayed over the snow in two directions, leaving a stain like wings on either side of the dead man.