Post by oberonfrost on May 31, 2012 1:43:55 GMT -5
Crimson Fox #8
Skin Pt. 2 of 2
Give Me My Sin Again
Vivian stood to the left of the Revson building’s skylight. Even dressed in her guise as the Crimson Fox, she was apprehensive about what was coming. The fleshsuit she’d stolen from Doctor DeChampes’ killer laid in a crumpled heap at her feet. The strap of a satchel crossed tightly over her chest, and one hand absently toyed with the clasp.
Fox took note that a fresh pane of glass had replaced the one she’d cut into just a few nights ago. It seemed appropriate that since this was where this increasingly strange and horrifying mess had begun, that this should also be the place where it ended. A certain symmetry to the ordeal; there was beauty in symmetry.
It was well past midnight and the moon was beginning its gradual decent toward the horizon. A gentle breeze came and went, the trailing cowl of Vivian’s costume waved as it passed, before settling into its familiar gravity once more. There was an uneasy feeling in her gut, and Vivian knew that this could be the last night that she looked out on the glimmering skyline of Paris.
Fox sniffed the crisp night air. Her heightened senses picked up on all the familiar smells of her city: wine, baked goods, urine. Overwhelming them all however was the increasingly recognizable coppery odor of fresh blood. Vivian knew they were coming for her, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Stealing the creature’s skin had perhaps been a mistake, she knew that. The mistake was made now, and she would have to see it through to the conclusion, and the stolen skin was the only trump card she had to play.
When Fox had been transported to the mysterious dwelling of the Fleur-de-Lis, the strange woman had instructed her to burn the skin. Vivian had come prepared to do just that. She had not had the time to collect gasoline, nor did she know where she would even find a service station open this time of night. In the satchel at her hip was a full bottle of the private reserve bourbon her sister kept in the liquor cabinet at the penthouse. It was more than flammable enough to ignite the stolen skin.
The smell of blood drifted closer, and Fox knew they were closing in on her. She wasn’t sure how they had managed to track her, but Vivian was sure that they had done just that. Her eyes darted around cautiously, not knowing from which direction an attack might spring. Vivian also took the opportunity to take a possibly final look at some of her favorite sights- the Eiffel Tower off in the distance and the Arch de Triumph looming in its place. She could even see the lights from the Louvre touching the tapestry of the night sky.
Satisfied that her attackers were close enough, Vivian flipped open the clasp on the satchel and withdrew the bottle of bourbon. It was over fifty years old, well aged and kept. No doubt a single shot of the stuff cost more than a hundred Euros. Constance hadn’t even broken the seal yet.
Fox popped the cork with teeth and spat it over the side of the building. She took a deep draw from the bottle, feeling the alcohol burn as it traced its way toward her stomach. “Potent,” she said to herself, looking contemplatively at the label. “Worth every penny, too.” One more drink downed and Vivian upended the bottle, letting the contents splash out onto the pile of skin below. Covered in the amber liquid and moonlight, the deflated husk looked as bloody on the outside as Vivian knew it was inside.
The satchel strap came over her head, and Vivian withdrew the only other item inside, a book of matches. She let the bag fall to the ground, no longer necessary. The only thing left to do was wait.
It wouldn’t be a long wait. Aliki had recovered quickly once Fleur-de-Lis returned Vivian to her Parisian penthouse, and the Earthly realm. Margot had shown genuine concern for her sister as she seized, but once the episode was over she turned into a machine with only one purpose: vengeance.
Though it was incredibly difficult for Aliki, she pushed through the pain. She guided her twin across the rooftops, finding the path that soothed her aches. It was slow going, and there were times when they had been forced to backtrack because their prey was toying with them. The twins barely spoke as they made their way toward the place of their confrontation with the thief. They had known each other so long, trained together their entire lives, every movement one made told the other more than words could.
Margot realized before they reached it that the Revson building was their battleground. She left her sister for a moment, scouting the area. She watched as the mystery woman who had twice interfered with their dark-father’s plans poured something, some liquid, out onto what looked to be a pile of dirty rags. Silently, she crept to the edge of the building, squinting and trying to make out what was going on across the alleyway.
In only moments, Margot realized that what looked like a pile of rags had to be her sisters’ stolen flesh. Their flesh, though no longer a permanent fixture, was the thing that kept them alive, young and immortal. It had been torture to achieve that immortality, but it was theirs and Margot wasn’t going to see it taken from them. It took a strict regimen of constant moisturizing and care to keep their detached skin healthy. Being beautiful forever had its prices. No one had told them about superheroes trying to kill them when they’d signed up for this eternal life twenty-seven years ago.
Somewhere deep inside Margot’s mind something snapped and she found herself running toward the edge of the roof from several feet away. Rage had overtaken her; she was so furious at the prospect of what this hero might do that she had forgotten coherent though, and forgotten her sister.
Margot was a blur of yellow and black as she somersaulted across the alley, and landed with a thud on the Revson rooftop. She was crouched, and the masked vigilante hadn’t noticed her yet. She upholstered her pistol and unsheathed her knife from the strap on her thigh.
Suddenly there was the sound of a match head scraping against the flint on the matchbook. A quick blaze of red-gold light faded instantly to a dim glimmer. “I heard you from over there,” Fox said, tilting her head backward in the direction of the other building.
Wide-eyed, Margot watched as the lit match fell from the other woman’s hand and spiraled downward toward her sister’s alcohol soaked flesh. It happened before she had time to react. She heard her sister’s anguished scream from two buildings away, perfectly timed with the whoosh of oxygen as her skin turned into an inferno.
Margot charged forward, pistol arm extended. Fox turned to face her, flicking her wrists and barring her claws. Aliki’s shriek echoed off the tall glass and stone buildings around them.
There was the sound of gunfire, two loud shots rang out, briefly obscuring Aliki’s screech. Twin bullets barreled from Margot’s pistol, trained on Vivian. Even with her heightened reflexes, Crimson Fox was unable to dodge shots fired at such close range. Fox tried to leap out of the way, but both bullets caught her in the abdomen, and she flew backwards. Vivian crashed into the rooftop and skidded backward a few more feet.
Margot dived for her sister’s sizzling skin, landing atop the blaze. She used her own body and the cool stone of the roof to squelch the flames. As the final wisps of smoke disappeared on the breeze, Margot checked her own skin, making sure it was free of burns. Her clothes were singed, but her flesh was unmarred.
Then Margot reached down and took her sisters blackened and scarred skin into her hands, barely discernable for what it was. Aliki’s screaming stopped suddenly. That moment was when Margot was most terrified. She knew it might not have been enough, that her sister might be dead, or dying even now. She continued to peer down at the melted fleshsuit, fighting tears.
“I know bad guys use guys,” Fox’s voice said from above, just before a kick snapped Margot’s neck sideways and sent her careening flat on her stomach. The Kevlar lining inside her costume had held. Though the bullets had stunned her momentarily, she was no worse for wear. There would likely be a bruise, though only briefly, since Vivian heals quite quickly.
Vivian lunged at her, but Margot rolled away. The long-haired Double Dare twin sprang to her feet and flipped her knife into a stabbing position. As Margot rushed her, Vivian performed a graceful back handspring, dodging the knife slicing downward toward her and connecting her foot with Margot’s face once more.
Claws out, Vivian sprinted toward Margot. She slashed twice, first right, then left. Margot avoided the first with a clumsy step backward. The second blow connected, and the razor sharp talons carved into Margot’s flesh. Thick red blood spurted out, and Vivian felt the hot droplets kiss her cheeks as sprayed.
The skinthief roared and flung the knife at Vivian. It slipped through the air elegantly, but was easy for Vivian to avoid. Two quick jabs and a kick to the stomach caught Fox by surprise. Vivian felt the air rush out of her lungs, forcibly expelled by the strike.
Margot followed up the combo with a roundhouse kick that clipped Vivian’s jaw and sent her to her knees. She looked up just in time to see Margot’s backhanded slap connect with cheek. Vivian flipped over, landing on her stomach.
“Are you that easy?” Margot said, pressing a hand to the three slashes across her stomach. She retrieved the knife and walked toward Crimson Fox.
Face down on the stone roof, Vivian smiled to herself. She began amping up her pheromone projection powers since Margot arrived. Just a little at first, putting both fear and lust into the air, keeping her off balance. Now, while the adult-dressed-like-a-bumblebee thought she had the upper hand, Fox switched off lust completely and dialed fear up to the maximum. It would take a few seconds to build in Margot’s system to the desired effect, but Vivian was sure she had triumphed.
“I’ll bury your bones in an unmarked grave,” Margot said as she crossed the roof. “I’ll give your skin to my sister. To replace what you took from her. She’ll look at your face every day, and never even know your name.” She toyed with the knife, twisting the tip against a gloved finger as she crouched over her superhero foe.
Without warning Vivian flipped over, her claws slitting Margot’s creamy white cheek. “Tell them in Hell,” Vivian said as she grabbed Margot by the hair, gazing into her eyes, “that the Crimson Fox sent you.”
Margot’s eyes were wide with terror. The pheromones had taken hold, so strong now that her fear was everything to her. What she saw when she stared at the Crimson Fox appeared more demon than woman.
Nothing else was said as Vivian plunged her keen claws into Margot’s jugular. Vivian released her hold on Margot’s fiery tresses and the skinthief collapsed in a heap. She grasped at the wound in her neck, her hand slick with her own fluids. Her other hand held the wound on her right cheek, blood seeping from it, though at a much slower pace.
Vivian was quiet for a long moment. They were already dead. That’s how she justified it. She stared down at the woman before her, sure she was a monster underneath her normal exterior. She switched off the pheromones, letting what was left float away on the wind. She sheathed her claws, picked up the empty satchel, and ran a gloved hand down her sweat soaked face. “If there is a God…” she said, before she leapt from the rooftop to the alleyway below and disappeared into the night.
***
Epilogue
Hours passed. For Aliki and Margot Marceau those hours felt like days. Aliki’s skin had been burned beyond repair. Margot had been wounded and laid bleeding out on a rooftop two building away.
As searing pain washed over Alike, she knew her skin was burning. She could not see what was happening, but the pain was so intense that she just knew. Writhing in agony, the knots made up of Henri DeChampes’ flaccid arms and torso, tied around her waist came loose. Aliki fought against the pain and managed to shove her arms into his and pull his face over her skinless visage. It dulled the pain, but nothing would ever make it go away.
It was nearly dawn when Zachariah and Nora found them. Nora dragged Aliki, in DeChampes’ bloated flesh down from the rooftop and laid her in the backseat of the black sedan. Zachariah did the same for Margot, though she had to spend the trip in the trunk.
Both girls would live, with tender ministrations from their dark-father. He would not be pleased with them, and there would doubtlessly be torture intertwined with the healing process. That pleased Zachariah.
He dropped Nora off with Madame Madeline then set the car on a course out of the city. It was a long drive to Agincourt.
Skin Pt. 2 of 2
Give Me My Sin Again
Vivian stood to the left of the Revson building’s skylight. Even dressed in her guise as the Crimson Fox, she was apprehensive about what was coming. The fleshsuit she’d stolen from Doctor DeChampes’ killer laid in a crumpled heap at her feet. The strap of a satchel crossed tightly over her chest, and one hand absently toyed with the clasp.
Fox took note that a fresh pane of glass had replaced the one she’d cut into just a few nights ago. It seemed appropriate that since this was where this increasingly strange and horrifying mess had begun, that this should also be the place where it ended. A certain symmetry to the ordeal; there was beauty in symmetry.
It was well past midnight and the moon was beginning its gradual decent toward the horizon. A gentle breeze came and went, the trailing cowl of Vivian’s costume waved as it passed, before settling into its familiar gravity once more. There was an uneasy feeling in her gut, and Vivian knew that this could be the last night that she looked out on the glimmering skyline of Paris.
Fox sniffed the crisp night air. Her heightened senses picked up on all the familiar smells of her city: wine, baked goods, urine. Overwhelming them all however was the increasingly recognizable coppery odor of fresh blood. Vivian knew they were coming for her, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Stealing the creature’s skin had perhaps been a mistake, she knew that. The mistake was made now, and she would have to see it through to the conclusion, and the stolen skin was the only trump card she had to play.
When Fox had been transported to the mysterious dwelling of the Fleur-de-Lis, the strange woman had instructed her to burn the skin. Vivian had come prepared to do just that. She had not had the time to collect gasoline, nor did she know where she would even find a service station open this time of night. In the satchel at her hip was a full bottle of the private reserve bourbon her sister kept in the liquor cabinet at the penthouse. It was more than flammable enough to ignite the stolen skin.
The smell of blood drifted closer, and Fox knew they were closing in on her. She wasn’t sure how they had managed to track her, but Vivian was sure that they had done just that. Her eyes darted around cautiously, not knowing from which direction an attack might spring. Vivian also took the opportunity to take a possibly final look at some of her favorite sights- the Eiffel Tower off in the distance and the Arch de Triumph looming in its place. She could even see the lights from the Louvre touching the tapestry of the night sky.
Satisfied that her attackers were close enough, Vivian flipped open the clasp on the satchel and withdrew the bottle of bourbon. It was over fifty years old, well aged and kept. No doubt a single shot of the stuff cost more than a hundred Euros. Constance hadn’t even broken the seal yet.
Fox popped the cork with teeth and spat it over the side of the building. She took a deep draw from the bottle, feeling the alcohol burn as it traced its way toward her stomach. “Potent,” she said to herself, looking contemplatively at the label. “Worth every penny, too.” One more drink downed and Vivian upended the bottle, letting the contents splash out onto the pile of skin below. Covered in the amber liquid and moonlight, the deflated husk looked as bloody on the outside as Vivian knew it was inside.
The satchel strap came over her head, and Vivian withdrew the only other item inside, a book of matches. She let the bag fall to the ground, no longer necessary. The only thing left to do was wait.
It wouldn’t be a long wait. Aliki had recovered quickly once Fleur-de-Lis returned Vivian to her Parisian penthouse, and the Earthly realm. Margot had shown genuine concern for her sister as she seized, but once the episode was over she turned into a machine with only one purpose: vengeance.
Though it was incredibly difficult for Aliki, she pushed through the pain. She guided her twin across the rooftops, finding the path that soothed her aches. It was slow going, and there were times when they had been forced to backtrack because their prey was toying with them. The twins barely spoke as they made their way toward the place of their confrontation with the thief. They had known each other so long, trained together their entire lives, every movement one made told the other more than words could.
Margot realized before they reached it that the Revson building was their battleground. She left her sister for a moment, scouting the area. She watched as the mystery woman who had twice interfered with their dark-father’s plans poured something, some liquid, out onto what looked to be a pile of dirty rags. Silently, she crept to the edge of the building, squinting and trying to make out what was going on across the alleyway.
In only moments, Margot realized that what looked like a pile of rags had to be her sisters’ stolen flesh. Their flesh, though no longer a permanent fixture, was the thing that kept them alive, young and immortal. It had been torture to achieve that immortality, but it was theirs and Margot wasn’t going to see it taken from them. It took a strict regimen of constant moisturizing and care to keep their detached skin healthy. Being beautiful forever had its prices. No one had told them about superheroes trying to kill them when they’d signed up for this eternal life twenty-seven years ago.
Somewhere deep inside Margot’s mind something snapped and she found herself running toward the edge of the roof from several feet away. Rage had overtaken her; she was so furious at the prospect of what this hero might do that she had forgotten coherent though, and forgotten her sister.
Margot was a blur of yellow and black as she somersaulted across the alley, and landed with a thud on the Revson rooftop. She was crouched, and the masked vigilante hadn’t noticed her yet. She upholstered her pistol and unsheathed her knife from the strap on her thigh.
Suddenly there was the sound of a match head scraping against the flint on the matchbook. A quick blaze of red-gold light faded instantly to a dim glimmer. “I heard you from over there,” Fox said, tilting her head backward in the direction of the other building.
Wide-eyed, Margot watched as the lit match fell from the other woman’s hand and spiraled downward toward her sister’s alcohol soaked flesh. It happened before she had time to react. She heard her sister’s anguished scream from two buildings away, perfectly timed with the whoosh of oxygen as her skin turned into an inferno.
Margot charged forward, pistol arm extended. Fox turned to face her, flicking her wrists and barring her claws. Aliki’s shriek echoed off the tall glass and stone buildings around them.
There was the sound of gunfire, two loud shots rang out, briefly obscuring Aliki’s screech. Twin bullets barreled from Margot’s pistol, trained on Vivian. Even with her heightened reflexes, Crimson Fox was unable to dodge shots fired at such close range. Fox tried to leap out of the way, but both bullets caught her in the abdomen, and she flew backwards. Vivian crashed into the rooftop and skidded backward a few more feet.
Margot dived for her sister’s sizzling skin, landing atop the blaze. She used her own body and the cool stone of the roof to squelch the flames. As the final wisps of smoke disappeared on the breeze, Margot checked her own skin, making sure it was free of burns. Her clothes were singed, but her flesh was unmarred.
Then Margot reached down and took her sisters blackened and scarred skin into her hands, barely discernable for what it was. Aliki’s screaming stopped suddenly. That moment was when Margot was most terrified. She knew it might not have been enough, that her sister might be dead, or dying even now. She continued to peer down at the melted fleshsuit, fighting tears.
“I know bad guys use guys,” Fox’s voice said from above, just before a kick snapped Margot’s neck sideways and sent her careening flat on her stomach. The Kevlar lining inside her costume had held. Though the bullets had stunned her momentarily, she was no worse for wear. There would likely be a bruise, though only briefly, since Vivian heals quite quickly.
Vivian lunged at her, but Margot rolled away. The long-haired Double Dare twin sprang to her feet and flipped her knife into a stabbing position. As Margot rushed her, Vivian performed a graceful back handspring, dodging the knife slicing downward toward her and connecting her foot with Margot’s face once more.
Claws out, Vivian sprinted toward Margot. She slashed twice, first right, then left. Margot avoided the first with a clumsy step backward. The second blow connected, and the razor sharp talons carved into Margot’s flesh. Thick red blood spurted out, and Vivian felt the hot droplets kiss her cheeks as sprayed.
The skinthief roared and flung the knife at Vivian. It slipped through the air elegantly, but was easy for Vivian to avoid. Two quick jabs and a kick to the stomach caught Fox by surprise. Vivian felt the air rush out of her lungs, forcibly expelled by the strike.
Margot followed up the combo with a roundhouse kick that clipped Vivian’s jaw and sent her to her knees. She looked up just in time to see Margot’s backhanded slap connect with cheek. Vivian flipped over, landing on her stomach.
“Are you that easy?” Margot said, pressing a hand to the three slashes across her stomach. She retrieved the knife and walked toward Crimson Fox.
Face down on the stone roof, Vivian smiled to herself. She began amping up her pheromone projection powers since Margot arrived. Just a little at first, putting both fear and lust into the air, keeping her off balance. Now, while the adult-dressed-like-a-bumblebee thought she had the upper hand, Fox switched off lust completely and dialed fear up to the maximum. It would take a few seconds to build in Margot’s system to the desired effect, but Vivian was sure she had triumphed.
“I’ll bury your bones in an unmarked grave,” Margot said as she crossed the roof. “I’ll give your skin to my sister. To replace what you took from her. She’ll look at your face every day, and never even know your name.” She toyed with the knife, twisting the tip against a gloved finger as she crouched over her superhero foe.
Without warning Vivian flipped over, her claws slitting Margot’s creamy white cheek. “Tell them in Hell,” Vivian said as she grabbed Margot by the hair, gazing into her eyes, “that the Crimson Fox sent you.”
Margot’s eyes were wide with terror. The pheromones had taken hold, so strong now that her fear was everything to her. What she saw when she stared at the Crimson Fox appeared more demon than woman.
Nothing else was said as Vivian plunged her keen claws into Margot’s jugular. Vivian released her hold on Margot’s fiery tresses and the skinthief collapsed in a heap. She grasped at the wound in her neck, her hand slick with her own fluids. Her other hand held the wound on her right cheek, blood seeping from it, though at a much slower pace.
Vivian was quiet for a long moment. They were already dead. That’s how she justified it. She stared down at the woman before her, sure she was a monster underneath her normal exterior. She switched off the pheromones, letting what was left float away on the wind. She sheathed her claws, picked up the empty satchel, and ran a gloved hand down her sweat soaked face. “If there is a God…” she said, before she leapt from the rooftop to the alleyway below and disappeared into the night.
***
Epilogue
Hours passed. For Aliki and Margot Marceau those hours felt like days. Aliki’s skin had been burned beyond repair. Margot had been wounded and laid bleeding out on a rooftop two building away.
As searing pain washed over Alike, she knew her skin was burning. She could not see what was happening, but the pain was so intense that she just knew. Writhing in agony, the knots made up of Henri DeChampes’ flaccid arms and torso, tied around her waist came loose. Aliki fought against the pain and managed to shove her arms into his and pull his face over her skinless visage. It dulled the pain, but nothing would ever make it go away.
It was nearly dawn when Zachariah and Nora found them. Nora dragged Aliki, in DeChampes’ bloated flesh down from the rooftop and laid her in the backseat of the black sedan. Zachariah did the same for Margot, though she had to spend the trip in the trunk.
Both girls would live, with tender ministrations from their dark-father. He would not be pleased with them, and there would doubtlessly be torture intertwined with the healing process. That pleased Zachariah.
He dropped Nora off with Madame Madeline then set the car on a course out of the city. It was a long drive to Agincourt.