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Post by blaze on Jul 30, 2010 9:44:44 GMT -5
Blaze Aleksei Dolohov’s anxious footsteps were echoing into a harsh thrashing noise in his ears. As he took step after step down the main hall, his heart would beat a beat faster and his ears would ring a little harder. The blonde had his arms tied around a dark haired vixen’s back as he continued to towards Antonin Dolohov‘s office. Blaze’s half-closed eyes shot open in a instant. His shocking emerald eyes became ridden with pain and he stopped pacing; his miraculous pools of pale colour shutting tight with an unruly ache.
Taking no time to try and subside the hurt, Blaze tore down his left sleeve. It seemed as though he himself, or another, had tried to hide a specific something on the nineteen-year-old’s wrist - for bandages were wrapped poorly around his arm; falling from his grazed knuckles to his bony elbow. But now, the bandages looked as if they had been blown off in one spot of his arm, and the remaining bandages dangled sorely. Where the wrapping had been burnt, torn, and blown, Blaze’s skin bared a daring black mark - it’s centrepiece being a skull.
Putting his arm to his side, he continued walking with the obedient female.
Blaze had been up for hours on end; it was now three o’ clock in the morning, and he was wide awake. No matter how much his heavy eyelids drooped onto their contrast, his mind wouldn’t be able to rest for some time. Early, the night before, he’d been the target for an assassination. An innocent act of pride, Chantelle Quinn proclaimed. Blaze recoiled at the sounds of his mother’s protests, telling him to let the women go. She was petrified. But, in the back of his mind, there was this disorderly desire to taunt, to ridicule, to kill.
He had been the target for death. Someone had wanted him out of the picture, but who? Was it just him they wanted or was it the rest of his family? His siblings would remain safe at Hogwarts, due to the separation of his parents, his mother should be safe, but Blaze had a feeling his father would also be the target for an early death.
Rage encircled him; hand in hand.
Not bothering to knock on the large oak doors that led into his father’s office, Blaze tightened his grip on the gorgeous female, despite her restraints, Blaze was stronger. “Antonin, it seems we have a slight problem. Chantelle Quinn has been hired to assassinate me, but I also think you’re a target also. Good news, I managed to hold her captive, but there could be more.” The emerald eyes sparked with a certain flicker of desire at the woman, “What should we do with this one. I’d hate to see a pretty little thing like her be written off.” The voice spoke smoothly, but was directed more to Chantelle than his father.
“Out of curiosity’s sake, I was thinking we could keep her, as pet of sorts.” Behind his words lay amusement, “Perhaps, we could get a bit of information out of this one.”
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Post by jo on Jul 30, 2010 10:45:40 GMT -5
“I’m ordering you to kill them and get the job done with. Immediately.”
Chantelle Ruby Quinn doesn't have an arsenal of gifts with which she can present to the world. Killing isn’t a gift, it’s skill. To perfect such a technique takes not only years, but to tame emotions and to block out every human feeling possible. To do that, is impossible. Nobody has the ability to separate professional from personal, they always seem to find away back to each other. That problem, perhaps small and minor, can cause destruction that can bring people to their knees.
Following demands and standing by orders has been the life that she has kept for eight years. Eight years to perfect the skill. Underestimating her is possibly the worst move a wizard could make. There had once been a time she was considered an innocent beauty, a rose without thorns. The stupid bastard who had titled her of such, died four seconds after the label left his lips. Beauty has been a glorious weapon, the reason behind underestimations, the reason behind death, in her part.
“Give me a week sir, I’ll have them both six feet under.”
Seven days, one hundred and sixty eight hours, Chantelle Quinn had devised a plan, one of which was sure to work. After days of watching and waiting, she had found the perfect opportunity, a plan that even when captive seemed to be working well. Like now for instance, with Dolohov’s hand’s wrapping tighter around her wrists, not a wand on her or any muggle invention of a gun. She would do this bare handed.
“I suggest you release me immediately.” The tone of voice remained calm as she listened to the younger male speak of his plans, none of which would work well with Chantelle. “What else could I possibly tell you other than I will kill you both, with a wand or a fist. No matter what, I doubt you will get much out of me.” The pale blue eyes examined both Dolohov’s, particularly on the eldest.
“No longer than a week, if you fail to kill them then I’ll take your own life in return.”
“I swear to you now, if your hands keep crushing my wrists like that I will rip off your favourite appendage Blaze Dolohov, you conceited prick. You’re not the one I was here to kill, your father is my pain target.” Chantelle spat to him, forcing her elbow to clash with his torso.
“What do you expect. The leader of a wizarding mafia, you don’t think people will be out to kill you. You’re no leader, neither of you are.”
WORDS : HOW MANY
STATUS : FINISHED
NOTES : SO YEAH, SUCKS?!
LYRICS USED : USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
LISTENING TO : --
BANNER CREDIT : TANA
TAGGED : TANA |
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