a lifeless body is so little valued | [C] Amos

[Amos Artan]

The time for Mark to get to Amos seemed, for the human, to last forever. The vampires who had brought him down seemed to be in no hurry to drain him dry perhaps something he should be grateful for, but the thought of been grateful for anything a vampire has done turns his stomach. The vampires have both his arms pinned to the ground and sound to be arguing over who should be the one to take the first drink, obviously either stupid or not very experienced in this matter... or both, Amos would go for both though he's have to be favouring stupid. "You fucking morons, don't you know that the wolf is going to come after me! Now I know wolves can't digest vampires blood but he's going to rip your throat out anyway".

The vampires appear to hesitate a little and look back. All Amos sees is a blur of darkness dropping from above and suddenly the vampires are pulled off of him. Unwilling to see what's going on Amos shuts his eyes and lets Mark deal with the vampires, but the sounds of the vampires dying and gagging for air echo in his head, he had to make them stop. Pushing aside the pain Amos shakily stands and walks over to the vampire whose head is almost removed and stands over him. From a pocket of his jeans Amos takes out a butterfly knife. He leans down and rams the blade into the vampires heart and does the same to the other. He turns around to look at Mark and the vampires beneath him. "Let me take the last one huh? How kind of you". Amos kneels beside Mark and as before drives the knife into the vampire chest. "You took three of our lives, we'll take three of yours". The vampires dead Amos falls back, every joint aching, his lungs burning. "Oh my god I never want to have to do that again, got their stinking blood all over my hands. Don't know if you can even understand me Mark, but if you do then I gotta tell you that even though the night was a total where's the mayo?-up I'm still kinda glad you took me out". He looks at his cut up and bloody hands. "Man Sophie is going to pitch a fit when she sees these".

[markdaniels]

It use to sicken him. But these days it was simple fact. He use to be disgusted by the sight of a deformed, mutilated body. He use to hesitate when he killed. Use to frown on Death. He use to be alarmed at how easy it was to die, use to be uneasy how natural it felt for him to do so. But now, to him, it was simply fact. If you press here, he will smother. If you cut here, he will drown. If you hold him just so, he will be crushed. It was fact among fact among fact. How long had he been alive? How long had he been sent to kill? How long had it been since he had taken a turn in his core being, had become to enjoy, relish, like what he did? He felt the power in taking a life, the art, the accomplishment. But he was not drunk with either. He was amazed at the fragility, and that was what he bowed his head to. It was so easy to die. So, so very easy. On his tongue the blood was, lingering there, slipping through his mouth, mingling with the thick, clear-appearing salvia of his mouth. He could taste it, and he hated the taste. He wanted to clean his mouth, to swallow, to engulf the putrid acid on his tongue and forge it anew. But he couldn’t. He resisted all temptation within him to swallow, and concentrated, instead, on what lay before him. Death To My Enemies, was what had been written on one wolf’s arm not so long ago. … Back then Mark had wondered why the lad hadn’t added ‘Death to My Friends’ to it as well. Because, in truth, that was how it was. Daniels endangered every person he got close to… for the sheer fact he killed. He killed his enemies. But in the same way, he was killing his friends. It wasn’t rare for an assassin to target another’s companions, co-workers, family, lover. … It wasn’t. Tonight he was a Savior, but tomorrow he’d be an Executioner. It was just a matter of luck and fate, of time. And we are all running out of time.

Daniels was amazed at how efficient Amos was. It was… kindness in a way to kill them quickly. Kindness, Mark himself, admittedly would not have shown. Usually, he was sent to assassinate… and in those instances he ended things efficiently and quickly as possible. Thus, it was professional. But if he ever murdered out of his own want? … Mmm… He knew torture. And he didn’t frown on it. No one could promise him Hell would remember the person’s sins and transgressions and take the payment out. No one could promise him that. Mark took it upon himself to get his payment in the person’s hide, to get his gratification, satisfaction, acceptance there. If he wanted a person to die, he wanted them to feel it. Feel it. Did that make him cruel? Maybe.

He understood Amos. There was absolutely no reason why he could not. His ears were ears, capable of hearing sound both in the human’s range of producing them, and outside it. He could hear the tones, the vibrations of Amos’ voice… and still had the brain and ability to process the ‘noise’ like he would have as human. The noise were words, the words were sentences, and Mark very well heard (and understood them)… even if he could not speak right back. He could try to form human words but he would be unable to. Contorting these vocals to make sounds a human’s would was impossible, painful, and foolish to try. … Not that Daniels couldn’t speak in the “Wolf Tongue” (the fond name his mother had given the ’language’ werewolves spoke when they were in their forms) … but… Amos simply would not understand, nor decipher, the words without words… or the meanings of the growls, barks, and whines. But, surely Amos would know what to do next? He should call D.O.G.S. and get a team out here to… pick up and dispose of the bodies. Not that Mark wouldn’t wait around for that to happen but, after that? Ah, well, he suppose he could walk Amos home (nothing like walking around as a werewolf) but… Well, to be honest, Mark had no intention of changing. Not yet. He needed to see… a… “Doctor” of sorts. Whenever a werewolf got into a fight with a vampire, it was… smart to see a “doctor” (they were not real doctors. Old healers maybe, witch wives) or so his mother and his kind (his kind referring to those who are a little… strange and superstitious maybe) said. But, alas, doctor-doctor… later-later. Yes?

Out of Clues: =P You can wrap up the end?

[Amos Artan]

Amos looks at the bodies of the dead vampires, soon he'll have to call D.O.G.s and get some people to come down and clean the mess up. His clothes are smeared with blood, some it his own some it is the vampires. One thing he is glad of is that the vampires never got the chance to bite him. He could survive the bite of a vampire but once they started the leeches would probably not stop until Amos had been drained dry and left dead on the ground. He'd never killed a human or werewolf before or even a vampire for that matter but he'd had some amount of training on how to defend himself against them and how to kill one and make sure they wouldn't be getting back up again; cut off the head, stab the heart or burn them with fire or sunlight. Three simple ways to get rid of the fuckers. Wincing a little Amos takes out his mobile and dials in the number of D.O.G.S and requests a sort of sweeper team; people who'll come in and clean up all the messes left over from fights between wolves and other species. "It's Artan, I've got a situation. I was jumped by a few vampires. Daniels was able to get here in time to stop them from doing anything... yeah took them down. So I need you to send a couple of people to clean the mess up. There are three vampires bodies, all are well and truly dead. We probably wont be around when you come by, don't want to have to try to explain it to any cops who come by who have been called by someone who heard the noise".

Still sitting on the ground Amos looks over to Mark, still in his wolf form. "Guess you wont be changing back any time soon eh? Don't blame you really. Must be nice to be able to run around not have a single care in the world. Strong too, maybe not as strong as a vampire who looks after themselves properly but stronger than I could ever be that's for sure". Leaning back to pop his back then his shoulders, the cracking of his joints bringing a moment of relief from the pain. "I said I we weren't going to be hanging around by the time the sweeper team showed up to clean bodies up. Frankly I can't think of anything better than getting home and having a nice longer shower to get all this blood and dirt off of me. Then I'll go to sleep and be out like a light. I think I'd sleep through the rest of tomorrow if I didn't have to go to work in the morning and calling in sick with Sophie has a boss isn't going to go down well". Slowly Amos stands up, looking down at Mark in his wolf form. "You wanna walk with me back to my place?". Amos smiles a little. "I've got some nice steak you could have as a thanks for keeping me alive tonight".