Post by Spartacus on Feb 6, 2012 23:53:15 GMT -5
(Day 3 Dawn, 0600)
[Night before]
No matter where you are or where you go some facets of society never really change. If you know where to look you'll find them every time. There might be a cosmetic change but the spirit of it was familiar even if you jump to a city two thousand years in the future. Take for example the slum before him. Hidden in the eves of the bustling city heart there were a few nondescript houses. They were neither distinguishable or impressive in any way regardless of what angle you looked from. It was every bit the model two sotry brick apartments that come to mind when imagined.
What set them apart were the little details. The numerous ciggarette butts sunken into the soft earth behind them. The empty wine bottle sentries standing vigil behind the beautiful bushes presented. The curtains pulled to just the right distance to appear closed yet give a clear view to the surrounding area. Putting on just enough of a face that the people who view it don't bother to give a second glance. It reminded him so much of his highway man days he couldn't help it. A slitted predator's smile crept began to spread from the corners of his mouth.
By the time his gladius has taken the lock off the back door it had reached his cheeks. The door swung open and his nose was immediately greeted with the foul smell of pollution. The same smell as the man he had nicely asked where he could find a gambling den. What anchor had called a drug dealer. Maybe even the home of that man from earlier? Well he could ask while he was at it.
The thought didn't make it past the fetal stage before the flat of the steel blade smashed into the thug's face. The .44 revolver tumbled from the heavy set man's grasp as his corpse hit the floor. Not even sparing the bulging eyed body a glance, Spartacus advanced into the living room.
I must be pissed, I didn't even ask.
The thought dimly floated around his consciousness as his blade scoured a disemboweling cut across the gorrilla's gut. Looking into the man mountain's eyes the smile had become that of a demon finding some hapless prey. His eyes were the size of saucers before the blade found it's mark. It might have been scary, Spartacus supposed, if his eyes showed no noticeable increase in size after being gutted. The gladius continued it's merciless arc taking the head of what could make an impressive zoo exhibit if you removed the clothes. The other muscle freak's body followed off the armchair to the floor with a full thud.
Halting in the entrance to the living room, Spartacus focused his senses. He had been quiet coming in, not giving the three any chance of raising a mutter. The house felt empty everywhere but the basement where the sound of a few more pairs of feet came to investigate the thumping. Soon after the place was completely silent save the quiet breathing of the small girl cradled in his left arm. While depositing the previous occupants in a far corner of the basement he disinterestedly noted a few other bodies aside from his contributions.
Well if you think about it provided they are related all I have to do is wait for my answer. Good thing I didn't bother to ask.
Letting the well used tool vanish back to nothing Spartacus climbed the stairs to the upstairs bedroom. Clearing aside the amassed clutter he set the blonde under the covers and the luggage of hers to the side.
"If you made that expression more often you'd be much cuter."
Whispering quietly he looked down on her sleeping face. For a moment he was taken back to the sleeping image of another blonde he had known. Really aside from their sleeping expressions and hair color they were complete opposites.
Turning on one heel, Spartacus returned to the floor below unhurriedly. None of the town watch would come, even the neighbors couldn't hear the brief slaughter that had occured. It was a bit odd not needing to sleep but it would be useful to him. It gave him precious time to prepare for the next day.
Taking stock of what food the pantry contained he piled it onto the counter. Bags of chips, twinkies, canned goods, and other miscellaneous substances ushered forth unto the wood. He'd let her sort out what she wanted in the morning. Looking around for another ten minutes rendered a sturdy roll of duct tape. Soon enough the back door was taped shut with a noise making alarm attached near the floor. The various guns and wallets the men had held were stacked in a pile on the table. She might get some use out of them in the following days.
Back in the living room a few cracked windows aired out the room to breathable levels. Nothing to be done about the bloodstains but he could leave the furniture in the basement with the rest of the refuse. When he was done the deed was indiscernable save for the minute blood stains on the fridge and the not so petite ones on the living room floor. Hauling the sole remaining furniture into place, Spartacus eased into the couch. He had some time until dawn to figure out how this television worked. If anything it might give him some insight into this era.
By the time dawn peeked in through the firmly locked windows, a small stirring occured on the second floor. It had taken some time but he had eventually mastered the use of the remote control. Its plethora of buttons showed him many things. Some of them were even useful like the news channel that was on when Alex came down stairs.
[Night before]
No matter where you are or where you go some facets of society never really change. If you know where to look you'll find them every time. There might be a cosmetic change but the spirit of it was familiar even if you jump to a city two thousand years in the future. Take for example the slum before him. Hidden in the eves of the bustling city heart there were a few nondescript houses. They were neither distinguishable or impressive in any way regardless of what angle you looked from. It was every bit the model two sotry brick apartments that come to mind when imagined.
What set them apart were the little details. The numerous ciggarette butts sunken into the soft earth behind them. The empty wine bottle sentries standing vigil behind the beautiful bushes presented. The curtains pulled to just the right distance to appear closed yet give a clear view to the surrounding area. Putting on just enough of a face that the people who view it don't bother to give a second glance. It reminded him so much of his highway man days he couldn't help it. A slitted predator's smile crept began to spread from the corners of his mouth.
By the time his gladius has taken the lock off the back door it had reached his cheeks. The door swung open and his nose was immediately greeted with the foul smell of pollution. The same smell as the man he had nicely asked where he could find a gambling den. What anchor had called a drug dealer. Maybe even the home of that man from earlier? Well he could ask while he was at it.
The thought didn't make it past the fetal stage before the flat of the steel blade smashed into the thug's face. The .44 revolver tumbled from the heavy set man's grasp as his corpse hit the floor. Not even sparing the bulging eyed body a glance, Spartacus advanced into the living room.
I must be pissed, I didn't even ask.
The thought dimly floated around his consciousness as his blade scoured a disemboweling cut across the gorrilla's gut. Looking into the man mountain's eyes the smile had become that of a demon finding some hapless prey. His eyes were the size of saucers before the blade found it's mark. It might have been scary, Spartacus supposed, if his eyes showed no noticeable increase in size after being gutted. The gladius continued it's merciless arc taking the head of what could make an impressive zoo exhibit if you removed the clothes. The other muscle freak's body followed off the armchair to the floor with a full thud.
Halting in the entrance to the living room, Spartacus focused his senses. He had been quiet coming in, not giving the three any chance of raising a mutter. The house felt empty everywhere but the basement where the sound of a few more pairs of feet came to investigate the thumping. Soon after the place was completely silent save the quiet breathing of the small girl cradled in his left arm. While depositing the previous occupants in a far corner of the basement he disinterestedly noted a few other bodies aside from his contributions.
Well if you think about it provided they are related all I have to do is wait for my answer. Good thing I didn't bother to ask.
Letting the well used tool vanish back to nothing Spartacus climbed the stairs to the upstairs bedroom. Clearing aside the amassed clutter he set the blonde under the covers and the luggage of hers to the side.
"If you made that expression more often you'd be much cuter."
Whispering quietly he looked down on her sleeping face. For a moment he was taken back to the sleeping image of another blonde he had known. Really aside from their sleeping expressions and hair color they were complete opposites.
Turning on one heel, Spartacus returned to the floor below unhurriedly. None of the town watch would come, even the neighbors couldn't hear the brief slaughter that had occured. It was a bit odd not needing to sleep but it would be useful to him. It gave him precious time to prepare for the next day.
Taking stock of what food the pantry contained he piled it onto the counter. Bags of chips, twinkies, canned goods, and other miscellaneous substances ushered forth unto the wood. He'd let her sort out what she wanted in the morning. Looking around for another ten minutes rendered a sturdy roll of duct tape. Soon enough the back door was taped shut with a noise making alarm attached near the floor. The various guns and wallets the men had held were stacked in a pile on the table. She might get some use out of them in the following days.
Back in the living room a few cracked windows aired out the room to breathable levels. Nothing to be done about the bloodstains but he could leave the furniture in the basement with the rest of the refuse. When he was done the deed was indiscernable save for the minute blood stains on the fridge and the not so petite ones on the living room floor. Hauling the sole remaining furniture into place, Spartacus eased into the couch. He had some time until dawn to figure out how this television worked. If anything it might give him some insight into this era.
By the time dawn peeked in through the firmly locked windows, a small stirring occured on the second floor. It had taken some time but he had eventually mastered the use of the remote control. Its plethora of buttons showed him many things. Some of them were even useful like the news channel that was on when Alex came down stairs.
