Thread: Grave Matters: A Repo! Roleplay (SevenxKawamura)

She was struggling she was kicking, kicking, kicking, and the buckles on her boots were hitting the cement each time, creating a hollow, metallic rhythm that echoed through the otherwise empty alleyway. She had stopped screaming several minutes ago, her throat too raw for her to continue Valerine Neamt was in the category of the less intelligent patients that he dealt with, the kind that didn't know to stay quiet while running, who gave away their position with their panic. She'd nearly lost him too, just for a moment. But either way, he'd have found her - they never got away from him for long, because there was no where they could go that he couldn't find them, and there was no stopping him. There were several Repo Men - it wasn't an elite club, but it did require a certain type of person to do the job, and usually the sociopathic were the prime candidates. Seventeen years ago, the mild-mannered Nathan Wallace would have been disgusted by the very idea, but - - things had changed. Initially, he hadn't been driven by blood lust - he wasn't sure if that was the case now, it was hard to tell - he had been driven by the need to keep his daughter safe, safe from the truth, safe from Rotti, safe from GeneCo. He had signed the contract because he couldn't go to jail and leave Shilo alone in the world, there was no one else who would take her, and he knew there was no where safe in the city - he'd had to do it. Starting out had been difficult the first one he'd killed was a man who was in his twenties and had his whole life ahead of him, and Nathan had brought the heart back to GeneCo and vomitted afterwards. He'd hated himself, but at least Shilo hadn't been old enough to recognize there was something wrong - and that, perhaps, had been his sole comfort. He'd held his baby girl all night after that, clutching Shilo close to his chest, realizing that even he wasn't good enough for her - - how could anyone else be? That was the night he'd decided he couldn't let her leave, he couldn't let her face what was out there, it would destroy her. After all, he was a man in his thirties back then, a doctor who had been destroyed in a single day - what chance did a little girl stand in a world as twisted as theirs was? But seventeen years of killing changed a guy, and it had become second nature - he went somewhere else when he did it now. It was just the job. He removed a glittering, surgically sharp knife and slit the back of Valerie's leather jacket, yanking the fabric apart to reveal her back, still scarred from the recent surgery - when the air hit her skin, she began to scream with renewed fervor. Shh-shh, he said, and picked up a bit of broken brick from near his foot and soundly thumped her in the back of the head with it. She let out a croak, and began to spasm as her brain hemhorraged from the hit, and once her death rattle was over, he cut into her back and wrenched out her spine with a disturbing finesse, whistling a sprightly tune to himself as he did so. He jammed the spine into a bag and rose to his feet, a dark, blood-spattered figure with only one purpose. And he had a busy night ahead of him.