Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Mist's Dilemma

The vampire hissed, his hand at Eve’s throat. His friend had his hand at Nixion’s throat. Mist knew that they could easily rip out their throats if they so felt like it. The first vampire looked straight at Mist.
“Give it to me,” he said, his grip tightening. Mist cringed as Eve winced. He looked down at his hand, which held and amulet. To the right person, this could be a weapon of death. And the vampires were the right people. He looked up at the vampires, then back at Sheldon, who shook his head. He couldn’t stop them in time to save their lives.
Mist looked at Eve again, then at Nixion. Nixion eyes widened and he shook his head. Don’t to it, his eyes pleaded. He knew that Mist was seriously considering giving it over.
Mist’s had his gun, his gloves and one of his knifes taken away. He had one knife, which was in his other hand. He could throw the knife at one of the vampires, hoped it hit, watch the other person get their throat ripped out and get Sheldon to teleport them away. He could hand over the amulet, get both his friends and be responsible for the death of millions. Or he could teleport away, taking the amulet with him, leaving both of his friends to die and saving millions.
What the hell should he do?


  1. What the hell should he do?

    Zathract couldn't leave his girlfriend and best friend to die, nor could he choose one over the other. He had to try something. Nixion was already telling him not to hand over the amulet. He knew he couldn't do that. Two lives aren't worth one million, no matter who they are. However...
    Zathract wanted to last out, kill both the vampires and spend hours on end with Eve, carefree and rid of imminent death, knowing Nix was also safe. But instead he was here, faced with the choice of leaving Eve and Nix to die, save one of them or keep both an sacrifice millions. No. No! Zathract hated the vampires. His glare was cold and steely, full of a burning hatred. 
    "I'm going to kill you." he said. "I'm going to kill you both."
    They simply laughed, laughed at him mockingly, because they knew it was an empty threat. They had the higher ground. They had the hostages. Not him. Zathract had to make the hard decision.
    Okay, he though. Okay, think. 
    Mist had his dagger and nothing else. ...Or did he? He had his magic. He could fight with his magic. His fire. And with a snap of his fingers, Zathract summoned a ball of it to his gloves hand. He had his dagger and his flame. Two weapons he could use. Good. Better than a few moments ago anyway. 
    He had to act. Each moment he put off the attack was another moment closet to when the vampires would grow impatient and end the lives of his most loved one and his best friend. So when Zathract hurled his weapons at his enemies, it was not in an act to save the two he cared for so much. It was in fury: a fury towards the vampires, a fury that anyone dared hold a weapon to Nixon's throat, that anyone dared to touch Eve. 
    The dagger flew through the air quickly and met the throat of the vampire at once. He staggered backward and released Nixion before collapsing to the ground in a bloody heap. The fireball charged towards the second vampire and when it hit the jacket of his opponent,  Zathract felt an incredible elation. It's over, he thought. They were going to die and everyone would walk away alive.
    But then all his hopes plummeted and fear and desperation engulfed him again as the fireball expired. 
    The vampire was wearing protective clothing. No. No...no...no!
    If the fireball had not worked, then that meant that the vampire was still alive. And that meant-

    "Eve!" Zathract called out immediately, his voice scared and harsh, full of dread. He looked into her eyes and there was one second of a horrible understanding between the two. "No!" 

    1. But even as he was running towards the vampire, he saw his hand clench into a fist and rip out the throat of his girlfriend. Blood sprayed everywhere and Eve's limp body fell backwards looking mangled and distorted.
      Everything was fuzzy. Slow. A refusal to accept what had happened, a wall in Zathract's mind that was blocking out the truth. Eve could not be dead. It was impossible. He would never allow that to happen.
      Someone was calling his name.
      That didn't matter.
      The truth was slowly sinking in.
      "I..." Zathract gasped, his eyes on Eve's mangled body. "Am...going...to...FU-"
      Someone grabbed his arm before he could continue and he lunged forwards, trying to get to the vampire, but he wasn't there anymore. In his place stood Sparky with Lynxia and Robin talking from behind.
      "NO!" Zathract bellowed making everyone turn to look at him as Sheldon released his arm.
      He fell to his knees as tears spilled over his face and streamed on to the floor relentlessly. He didn't try and stop it. Nothing like that mattered.
      Eve was dead
      And it was his fault.
      "No..." he gasped between another sob, tears now pouring over his face.
      "Zath," someone said. "Nix, what happened?"
      Zathract was not listening.
      Eve was dead.
      It was his fault.
      Eve was dead.
      It was his fault.
      His girlfriend was dead because of him.
      Slowly, Zathract raised his head, the tears not halting. His gaze fell on Nixion who's face was white.
      The words came spilling out before he could stop them, but he didn't care.

      "You weren't worth it." he gasped, practically moaning with grief.
      "No..." Nixion whispered. "I wasn't..."

  2. *sighs* What a way to go...

    Oh well. I guess I'm kind of living Leela's dream, in a way.

    "When i die, I want it to be by the hands of a rich handsome Dracula."

    Eh. Same thing.

  3. Wait, I need to write MY reaction.

    Here goes:

    So apparently, I'm dead. And I'm wearing awesome sunglasses. You may throw your roses now.