Short story
- Thread starter ZeeClone
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Depends. If it's insanely long and boring and will take me more than 10 minutes to read, then no.
Be nice.
translations:
Water sluiced over my head as I began the old familiar incantation. The temperature of the water spiked as though someone had flushed the toilet, started the washing machine and opened every cold tap in existence. I bunched my shoulders against the sudden pain and fought to get my thoughts back under control and clear.
Bismillah, hirahma niraheem.
My breath turned to fire in my throat cracking my lips and scorching my tongue like scalding tea. I forced myself to stay under the water, moving my hands in slow deliberate motions as my skin reddened and split before my eyes.
I gathered water into my hands three times and splashed it into my face.
My breathing came in short shallow hisses and involuntary whimpers escaped my throat as I tossed the magmatic liquid into my face. I leaned forward trying to protect my face from further abuse and ran water through my hair and over my ears. An acrid, bitter smell assaulted my nostrils and I fought hard not to gag: I'd have had to have started all over again.
I cowered beneath the running tide of pain; water running down my arms, dripping off my elbows and splashing onto my feet. As suddenly as this whole masochistic episode began: it stopped. The temperature of the water returned to normal. I yelped like a kicked puppy at sudden change, too tired to move.
It was done.
"We should have cleaned it better before we started you stubborn bastard. Hard core man. Seriously."
"Ray!"
If I'd been standing I'd have slipped over.
"Subhanallah!" I swallowed some more choice expletives. Now was hardly the time. "TOWEL!"
I reached up and thumped the button on the shower. A moment later the water stopped and with a soft and fluffy fump the room went dark.
"Will you. Kindly. Bugger off and let me get dry?"
"Yes kasuku" I could hear the tongue poked out. I extended my arm from beneath my mute and made a rude gesture in the general direction of the voice. The bathroom door clicked shut and the room felt emptier. I stood up and stepped out of the bath, wringing out the corner that had rested in the pool around the bath plug. I towelled off and leaned against the bathroom counter, towel wrapped around, preserving my modesty if not my decency.
Reaching forward with the resignation of a Japanese Lord committing sepuku I wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror and lifted my gaze to the water flecked surface.
Three things surprisingly didn't happen. The mirror didn't crack. I didn't throw up and no misshapen monster gazed back at me. My close cropped brown hair looked dry already and decidedly un-crispy. My unremarkable features looked back at me in the same way that always had. Fleshy and alive.
I tore at the surgical tape holding down a pad over my right shoulder and ripped it away exposing two furrows a little more than an inch apart. They started from just below my collarbone and peeled up and over my shoulder and down my back. The edges were now pink and puckered and pulled together and came part with slight "schlock" sounds. I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Ray! You can come in now"
"Those look much better than they did 10 minutes ago. How in God's name did you put yourself through that?"
"Shia stubbornness. No, wait. Sunni subbournness."
"Michael. That was a shi'ite line the first time you said it. It's a shi'ite line now."
"Hey you! Enough with the religious discrimination! You gave up your membership card!"
"You're a fine bleedin one to talk Michael. If you're done cracking wise the GC called for us. They're expecting us in an hour"
"Well great. Now bugger off and let me tauather you God damned catholic!"
"Kiss my big black ass wewe mzungu mwembamba kama kifito!" Ray retorted. But she left, and pulled the door to behind her.
Oh yes. Ray is a girl. Well, Rayan is a girl. Ray is a vampire hunter. I am too, but she's got this whole black Mina Harker thing going on. She's also a Christian convert, what that gets her called by some members of the GC I won't repeat here. Faith is a funny business. And it's at the core of ours. Even if some on the GC are too blind to see that.
As for me, my name is Michael. A good Muslim name no? I said shahadha a few years back, but this has been the first time one of the damned got close enough for me to have to put myself through what I just did.
Cleaning a vampire bite is as much an act of faith as it is an act of will and intention. Holy symbols and garlic hold them off because the person holding them believes they will. It's fucking Darwinian watching an atheist trying to hold a vamp off with a cross. Only seen it once, the memory still makes me laugh. Right up to the point in the mental playback when the arterial spatter started.
Way back when, holy water never worked for me to clean a wound. You ever get bitten; you'll be able to tell if something is working at getting it out of your system by the sudden blinding pain from something entirely mundane. It comes from the shadow of the demon that bit you as it tries to hold on and not be kicked out to... wherever it is they go.
Bismillah, hirahma niraheem.
My breath turned to fire in my throat cracking my lips and scorching my tongue like scalding tea. I forced myself to stay under the water, moving my hands in slow deliberate motions as my skin reddened and split before my eyes.
I gathered water into my hands three times and splashed it into my face.
My breathing came in short shallow hisses and involuntary whimpers escaped my throat as I tossed the magmatic liquid into my face. I leaned forward trying to protect my face from further abuse and ran water through my hair and over my ears. An acrid, bitter smell assaulted my nostrils and I fought hard not to gag: I'd have had to have started all over again.
I cowered beneath the running tide of pain; water running down my arms, dripping off my elbows and splashing onto my feet. As suddenly as this whole masochistic episode began: it stopped. The temperature of the water returned to normal. I yelped like a kicked puppy at sudden change, too tired to move.
It was done.
"We should have cleaned it better before we started you stubborn bastard. Hard core man. Seriously."
"Ray!"
If I'd been standing I'd have slipped over.
"Subhanallah!" I swallowed some more choice expletives. Now was hardly the time. "TOWEL!"
I reached up and thumped the button on the shower. A moment later the water stopped and with a soft and fluffy fump the room went dark.
"Will you. Kindly. Bugger off and let me get dry?"
"Yes kasuku" I could hear the tongue poked out. I extended my arm from beneath my mute and made a rude gesture in the general direction of the voice. The bathroom door clicked shut and the room felt emptier. I stood up and stepped out of the bath, wringing out the corner that had rested in the pool around the bath plug. I towelled off and leaned against the bathroom counter, towel wrapped around, preserving my modesty if not my decency.
Reaching forward with the resignation of a Japanese Lord committing sepuku I wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror and lifted my gaze to the water flecked surface.
Three things surprisingly didn't happen. The mirror didn't crack. I didn't throw up and no misshapen monster gazed back at me. My close cropped brown hair looked dry already and decidedly un-crispy. My unremarkable features looked back at me in the same way that always had. Fleshy and alive.
I tore at the surgical tape holding down a pad over my right shoulder and ripped it away exposing two furrows a little more than an inch apart. They started from just below my collarbone and peeled up and over my shoulder and down my back. The edges were now pink and puckered and pulled together and came part with slight "schlock" sounds. I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Ray! You can come in now"
"Those look much better than they did 10 minutes ago. How in God's name did you put yourself through that?"
"Shia stubbornness. No, wait. Sunni subbournness."
"Michael. That was a shi'ite line the first time you said it. It's a shi'ite line now."
"Hey you! Enough with the religious discrimination! You gave up your membership card!"
"You're a fine bleedin one to talk Michael. If you're done cracking wise the GC called for us. They're expecting us in an hour"
"Well great. Now bugger off and let me tauather you God damned catholic!"
"Kiss my big black ass wewe mzungu mwembamba kama kifito!" Ray retorted. But she left, and pulled the door to behind her.
Oh yes. Ray is a girl. Well, Rayan is a girl. Ray is a vampire hunter. I am too, but she's got this whole black Mina Harker thing going on. She's also a Christian convert, what that gets her called by some members of the GC I won't repeat here. Faith is a funny business. And it's at the core of ours. Even if some on the GC are too blind to see that.
As for me, my name is Michael. A good Muslim name no? I said shahadha a few years back, but this has been the first time one of the damned got close enough for me to have to put myself through what I just did.
Cleaning a vampire bite is as much an act of faith as it is an act of will and intention. Holy symbols and garlic hold them off because the person holding them believes they will. It's fucking Darwinian watching an atheist trying to hold a vamp off with a cross. Only seen it once, the memory still makes me laugh. Right up to the point in the mental playback when the arterial spatter started.
Way back when, holy water never worked for me to clean a wound. You ever get bitten; you'll be able to tell if something is working at getting it out of your system by the sudden blinding pain from something entirely mundane. It comes from the shadow of the demon that bit you as it tries to hold on and not be kicked out to... wherever it is they go.
Bismillah, hirahma niraheem - In the name of god, the most benificent, the most merciful
kasuku - Swahili for parrot
wewe mzungu mwembamba kama kifito - skinny assed white boy (near enough) direct translation is "you white man who is skinny as a twig"
shahadha - declaration of faith
kasuku - Swahili for parrot
wewe mzungu mwembamba kama kifito - skinny assed white boy (near enough) direct translation is "you white man who is skinny as a twig"
shahadha - declaration of faith
Because the themes and philosophies associated with mechanisation, artificial intelligence and the seperation of conciousness including master/slave interaction, self determination, control & symbiosis have all been explored by far deeper thinkers and better writers than me.Smagmuck08 said: