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31_days2005-09-16 10:06 pm
of-carabas.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-09-16 10:06 pm
[September 16] [Near Dark] A Thousand Miles (12/26)
Title: A Thousand Miles (12/26)
Day/Theme: September 16th/Older ghosts
Series: Near Dark
Characters: Jesse
Rating: PG
For a while they talked about heading over to Europe for the war. Severen couldn't decide which was better: all that panic and chaos to party in, or the free food without the need to be careful how he handled the bodies. It'd be the entertainment of the decade, no questions there. But there was the question of how to cross an ocean without getting themselves fried. In the end, the war was over before they got around to making the trip.
"I wonder if she's over there now," Jesse mused one night, a year or so into the war. Meaning, they all knew, the lady who'd turned him. Well, hardly a lady, from the way he described her. When Jesse and his fellow soldiers had crawled from the wreckage of their ship onto the banks of the Delaware, the creatures that preyed on them weren't human to any eye. More like dark wraiths. Funny, that - those harpies swooping down on the dying, they didn't bear much resemblance to Jesse, Severen and Diamondback. A pack of coyotes on two legs instead of four, that was them, but those older ghosts seemed almost otherworldly even to him. Spirits of death, maybe. Spirit of life, in Jesse's case, a life which would have bled out into the dirt without her, and he raised a bloody glass to her for that, though he didn't know why she'd taken pity on him, out of all the men who'd died that day. And he most likely never would know; he hadn't seen her since.
And that was right strange, really. He and Severen and Diamondback, they left trails behind them, for those who knew how to look. In the earlier days he'd stop in cities for a while, travelling along the east coast, and he'd seen signs that said there were other folks hunting in those parts. But those cities got too big, too crowded, too careful about identities and paperwork; the three of them had abandoned the east coast entirely during the Depression. And in all the time he'd been wandering through the midwest, Jesse hadn't seen a single trail. He'd swear that they were the only folks hunting in the whole country.
Which made him wonder exactly what had happened to all those older ghosts that'd preyed on him and his fellow soldiers. Had they moved on, out of the country? Scattered north and south, maybe figured out a way to cross the ocean safely? Or had they been caught by the daylight?
In the end, he figured it didn't much matter. They'd started him on this dark life, and he was grateful. But if they'd left the whole of the midwest to him and his family, well, he was even more grateful for that.
Day/Theme: September 16th/Older ghosts
Series: Near Dark
Characters: Jesse
Rating: PG
For a while they talked about heading over to Europe for the war. Severen couldn't decide which was better: all that panic and chaos to party in, or the free food without the need to be careful how he handled the bodies. It'd be the entertainment of the decade, no questions there. But there was the question of how to cross an ocean without getting themselves fried. In the end, the war was over before they got around to making the trip.
"I wonder if she's over there now," Jesse mused one night, a year or so into the war. Meaning, they all knew, the lady who'd turned him. Well, hardly a lady, from the way he described her. When Jesse and his fellow soldiers had crawled from the wreckage of their ship onto the banks of the Delaware, the creatures that preyed on them weren't human to any eye. More like dark wraiths. Funny, that - those harpies swooping down on the dying, they didn't bear much resemblance to Jesse, Severen and Diamondback. A pack of coyotes on two legs instead of four, that was them, but those older ghosts seemed almost otherworldly even to him. Spirits of death, maybe. Spirit of life, in Jesse's case, a life which would have bled out into the dirt without her, and he raised a bloody glass to her for that, though he didn't know why she'd taken pity on him, out of all the men who'd died that day. And he most likely never would know; he hadn't seen her since.
And that was right strange, really. He and Severen and Diamondback, they left trails behind them, for those who knew how to look. In the earlier days he'd stop in cities for a while, travelling along the east coast, and he'd seen signs that said there were other folks hunting in those parts. But those cities got too big, too crowded, too careful about identities and paperwork; the three of them had abandoned the east coast entirely during the Depression. And in all the time he'd been wandering through the midwest, Jesse hadn't seen a single trail. He'd swear that they were the only folks hunting in the whole country.
Which made him wonder exactly what had happened to all those older ghosts that'd preyed on him and his fellow soldiers. Had they moved on, out of the country? Scattered north and south, maybe figured out a way to cross the ocean safely? Or had they been caught by the daylight?
In the end, he figured it didn't much matter. They'd started him on this dark life, and he was grateful. But if they'd left the whole of the midwest to him and his family, well, he was even more grateful for that.