Log: Complete

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

When: New Year's Eve
Rating: Hard R at the least for eventual extreme violence
Characters: Walter Dornez dark_butler, Schrodinger cutecatenvoy, and Pyramid Head redhorror
Summary: New Year's Eve brings Walter more than one unpleasant surprise.
Log:

Walter's flat stood empty, its occupant having stepped out for a bite to eat. He had no plans to be social this New Year's Eve. Taking care of his appetite now spared him human company a little later.

Comments

[redhorror.livejournal.com]

The lurching gait was broken by the assault from behind, but the Red Gaurd caught himself with the the blade before pitching foreward.

Broad shoulders tensed visibly, and the Executioner whirled, the great blade extended in a surprisingly fast strike.
He drew back, and held the nearly half-ton, nine foot steel column like a two handed duelist.

The wires went taught with both of his hands around the hilt of the blade, and the combination of pulling on the garrotts, and the thrust of the blade, imapled the condemned.

He slit the traitor from collar to navel, and still further as the blade exited just shy of Walter's spine.
Blood exploded from the wound, but the Executioner was merciless.
A booted foot rose, and shoved Walter off the blade, followed by a spill of blood, shredded entrail, and....silver?

In the mess of meat that had been the condemned's chest, a smoking glint of metal caught the wane light.

Wires still held Walter semi-upright, but the Heavy helmet stooped, and gathered the fallen coins.

A moment of reflection....
But the coins were not added to the fangs.

Instead, the condemned was pulled foreward by the tether of wire until he lay in a half-collapsed pile at the Executioner's feet.

Mouth open, gaping, a dead thing trying to breathe. Perhaps it was aware of the instinct, perhaps not.

....But it soon would be.

Hand to hinge, and the jaw opened.
Blood and bile, rust and silver.

The Angel of Judgement thrust those thirty pieces of silver in one meaty hand down the vampire's throat.

......The chest wound started to smoke almost immeadiately...

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

Lungs shredded, there was no breath for a scream. Walter's world exploded in a haze of red agony, burning from the inside, every piece of silver a searing indictment not just on his flesh, but on his soul.

Hellsing. Betrayed.

Integral. Betrayed.

Alucard. Betrayed.

His humanity. Betrayed.

His soul. Sold for an illusion of power that could not even keep him from this Hell.

Bloody tears tracked his face while he prayed that this time he would truly die. Just let this horror end.

[redhorror.livejournal.com]

Now that was familiar, prayers of deliverance.

The condemned was finally quiet.
Finally accepting of his judgement.

...And so, the Executioner went straight back to business.
Calm, and clinical. Done with cruelty for there was no longer need.

The traitor wept for pain. For loss, and in repentance.
The Executioner seemed to nod the great razor-edged helmet once, as if to say; Now, you understand.

Stoop, and pick up the wires.
Dragging, lurching, there is light at the end of the tunnel now.

The Red Gaurd, dropped the wires, and his burden, as he inspected the entrance to the Subway platform, and noted the oblidging pipworks that ran overhead.

A surprising amount of dexterity for such thick, twisted fingers, and the Gaurd had several lengths of wire freed from the mess.
These he used to tie Walter's hands to one of his ankles, and from there, throw the steel wire over one of the sturdier pipes.

A strong heave on the lines, and the condemned was hanging, inverted, by foot and bound hands.

Carefully, almost gently, The Executioner arranged the other leg to bend at the knee, and hook behind the first.

The smoking ruin of Walter's chest pilled more pieces of entrail, organ, and a single piece of singed silver, but the recreation was otherwise flawless.

Here hung the condemned.

The Traitor.

The Fool.

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

Still not dead. Still not fucking dead. Every nerve ending sang a discordant chorus of pain and retribution.

Say it! He had forced that decision on her and then, he had hurt her every chance he could since coming here.

He had thought the ends justified the means. He had believed it strongly enough to sell his soul for it.

He had been wrong. So very wrong.

When he closed his eyes, he saw what he'd done to Alucard. Out of "curdled love gone sour as old milk," as he'd told the angel.

He'd deserved what came after.

He deserved this.

He deserved death and Hell.

Just let it come. Let this part end and the next begin.

[redhorror.livejournal.com]

The great helmet bowed again, and seemed to listen to unheard sounds.

Brother Serpent was no more.

The Conjurer was reborn.

Ponderously, the Executioner lifted his blade, and took his time aligning himself with the inverted Fool.

A quick burst of sound, of feeling, of something undefinable, but the closest thing to communication the Angel of Judgement had shown throughout this entire encounter.

PAIN-and-Death-and-Let-IT-out
PAIN-and-Death-and-Let-IT-out
PAIN-and-Death-and-Let-IT-out
LET-it-OUT
LET-it-OUT

Let it out...let out the guilt, and the hurt. Let the Angel take it away.
...Take it all away in a wash of red...

He raised the blade, and with another surprising display of surgical dexterity with such a massive weapon, drew it sharply across the Fool's throat.

JUDGEMENT ALWAYS FINDS YOU

A mercy really....

Inverted as he was, Walter would bleed out quickly.

[dark-butler.livejournal.com]

The blood washed down over his face, some into his mouth to taunt him with his inability to swallow it, upside down with his throat cut as he was.

His greatest fear? That this would not be death.

His lips formed three words before his mind and body stilled, eyes staring sightlessly at nothing.

Let it out.