Thread: The Crow: Unforeseen Duet (Alvis Alendran & darkangel76)

Rain had come, was falling on him now. He closed his eyes, raised his arms over his head, letting the fat drops of water fall onto his face. There was the fleeting wish that if he let it rain on him long enough, then perhaps it could wash away all of this feeling that he was drowning under. But no. He knew that wouldn't happen, no matter how much it rained. His eyes opened as he caught the sight of a flare of colour going past him. He paused, his heart in his throat, looking after a sodden woman that looked every bit like Aleena was walking past. But Aleena was dead. He had seen her die, seen the flames take the room, seen it all. She couldn't be there. Was this another side effect of what he'd become? Seeing things that weren't there? She couldn't be real. If she had been she'd have noticed him, said something, reacted to his presence in some way. That much he didn't doubt. But he saw something else that caught his attention. Someone else reacting to her. Unless his mind was very creative with it's projections, then this wasn't him hallucinating. This was a woman. And also from the look of it, she was very suddenly in a tight spot. The crow flew past, eyes in the sky once more, and hefocused on that, closing his own eyes, letting it see for him. Saw her run. Saw her stumble. Saw her fall. Saw the man claiming his prize. He could hear as well as see, hear the words being said nearby, neither side of the budding tragedy taking any note of the dark bird that flew in the rain, that was watching with unnatural attention. The man grinned down at Lucy with no trace of mirth in his face. They were on the street, but on the street in the rain, in a part of town that everyone knew better than to draw attention to the goings on. If the police were to get involved, it would be nothing short of a terrible coincidence. He hand gathered her wrists into one hold, while he jerked on the neckline of her shirt, ripping the fabric partway down. his grin only widened before the sounds of the struggle were overtaken by a clear voice taht cut through the din utterly. My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be she loves the bare, the withered tree she walks the sodden pasture lane. The voice said, seeming to be quoting something. The man looked up to see who was interfering with his work. He was lanky, soaked, and looked to be done up in ragged clothes like one of the homeless. The fuck you on junkie? This aint your business. Piss off. He snarled, struggling a moment to keep his hold on Lucy. He might outweigh her by an enormous degree, and be able to easily overpower her, but desperation lent her more resources than one might expect. The man who had spoke camee closer, cocking his head, and smiling. Suppose I make it my business? Fine, you can have a turn at her when I'm done with her. He shook his head, but snapped it back up when the man kept coming closer. A knife appeared in the hand of the thug, aiming it at the approaching man, before back down to Lucy. No closer until I say so, you hear me? Clearly. A nod and the man looked back down at the rain sodden Lucy. He didn't see it when the other man moved on him. Jacob grabbed for the knife first, using momentum to bowl the thug off of Lucy. The thug was no stranger to fights like this, using a leg to lever Jacob off fo him. Jacob was back into it in an instant, but the thug had been planning for that. The knife was a long thing, fixed blade, and nearly ten inches long. It sank into Jacob's chest, and the thug grunted with teh effort, pushing it tot he hilt, impaling what had to be a lung. The thug smiled at him, before withdrawing the knife and turning back to Lucy. Hands gripped his face, and Jacob pulled him back towards him. A grin that spoke only of madness was beside his ear, and Jacob spoke again. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust alike. Is your conscience clear? Have you made your peace with God? Jacob asked him, jerking him around, and farther away from Lucy. The knife flailed and hacked at his arm, deep, puckering sounds showing all along his arm, the sleeve of the jacket shredding under the desperate assault. Jacob shot a hand out, gripping the wrist. With a practiced motion, for he'd done it before, the wrist snapped. The howl of pain faded as Jacob released the limb, and shot his hand out to pluck the knife from the air. The blade came in, sinking into the eye of the thug. The body spasmed a moment before still. Blood had stopped dripping from the wounds on his arm, the wounds sealed again. He turned to look at Lucy, letting the corpse fall, and just staring at her, not believing what he was seeing. You wear her face. How are you wearing her face? Who...what are you? He almost whispered.