Obsequium

{Guess I wasn't going to have to look far to find what I needed..... seems my destiny was coming with all inclusive door-to-door service, diamond eyes narrowed on the security monitor, watching as the piece of shit car pulls into the underground garage of the Commodore…Even if I hadn't seen them take out the security guard on the way in, the old Ford Escort was totally out of place among the Porsches and Bentleys driven by Caldwell's finest, a beat-up throwback to the 1970s among all the shiny status symbol penis-extensions. A growl ripping from my throat as I watch while the headlights are killed and three, big white-haired males exit the car, slamming the doors in unison. Fucking lessers…at my own back door…Not recent inductees either...never known them to risk coming so up close and personal. Fighting down the feeling that what I am about to do is one giant fucking mistake, quite possibly the last I'll ever make. Was I seriously going to hand myself to these fuckers on a goddamned platter? It goes against every instinct in my body, three centuries of fighting the enemy and it comes down to this? Well fuck if they think I'm going down waving a white fucking hankie in the air, those stinking, undead cocksuckers got another thing coming, Mommy dearest didn't say I couldn't play with them before I turned myself in, true? A split second later I'm hauling ass to the service elevator, like a suicidal maniac armed with the metal bat they'd used to beat Tory.


Throwing up mhis to distort the security cameras…storming through the doors on a roar, shitkickers echoing as they pound the concrete, heading right for the undead triangle, swinging the bat... All I had to do was picture Tory in their hands and all higher reasoning just clicked off completely, a honed, ruthless, killing machine, lips set in a hard smile, eyes ice-cold diamond, body assuming a fighting stance, craving the kill, coiled tight, hands low, gripping the bat, baiting them to take a swing at me, lids flaring as the gruesome threesome just stand there, eyeballing me, taking in the tatts and the glove, the reeking lesser to my right muttering as he jerks his jaw in my direction}<<he is the one... Sensei wants this one taken alive>>{quirking a brow as I snort a laugh, lips curled into a sneer, flashing fully extended fangs} yeah, good luck with that... motherfuckers!!{in less than a heartbeat, the sitch goes from Mexican stand-off to game fucking on. Swinging the bat in a wide arc, bringing it down on the first lesser that moves with skull-crushing force, ducking under the right hook I see coming in my peripheral vision, leg sweeping out, the sole of my shitkicker connecting hard with shins, knocking the fucker off balance, decking him onto the hard floor... after that the fight is a blur of movement... powerful kicks, blocks and strikes. My body responding on raw, adrenalized animal instinct and centuries of honed fighting skills, too psyched to feel their blows, the three-way offensive coming so fast it's giving me fucking whiplash.


 At some point I feel the hard ground connecting with my back, the air knocked from my lungs in a rush, the three whited out fuckers looming over me}<<remember, Sensei says we take him alive>>{this is it, my opportunity to let them take me in... Battling against the trained fighter in me, the moves to take them out already choreographed in my head, knowing I could be on them, slicing tendons, snapping limbs, dragging bodies until they are lined up against the wall like gruesome puppets with their strings cut... ready for interrogation... Instead I just lay there, flat on my back, watching the stinking vultures circle overhead, an image of Tory running through my brain as I let them twist me, face down into a submission hold and violently bind my hands and feet, panic constricting my throat as my vision blacks out, a black...hood? jerked roughly down over my head...fuck!..struggling to breathe through the thick fabric, nightmares from the past rearing up as a vicious assault of boots and bats and chains rains down on my body...zoning in on that picture of Tory, forcing the glow that threatens to overwhelm my body into submission...pain means nothing…it's fucking welcome if it gets me to her, hearing the lessers grunts as they struggle to bundle my huge frame into the cramped rear seat of the Ford, gagging on the stench of rotting flesh and baby powder as two of the stinking fuckers slide in either side of me and the third drives us away from the Commodore...I feel like I've signed my own fucking death warrant,  I can only cling to the one thing I've never had much of… Faith...Blind fucking faith that this suicidal move will bring me to Tory and our unborn young...}