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Happy Pony
by Fractured Thu Jun 11, 2009 6:19 pm
Guilt and fear rode alongside Heathcliff as he drove away from Sacramento, still bruised from the mugger's meaty fists, but the worst of his wounds healed. He was still sick from...who knows, who even cares, until he has enough blood to do something about it. He might have killed two different people tonight, had he not proved he was more stubborn than even the Beast had accounted for.
And that was just tonight. What will the thug remember tomorrow? Panic rising in his esophagus, he hangs his head out of the window, and the wind at sixty MPH is a balmy breeze compared to his jangling nerves.
The stench of various domesticated species sharing living quarters reaches him well before his headlights illuminate the sign to Happy Pony Petting Zoo. Heathcliff slows down as he drives past, but doesn't see any kind of security. He turns around, dims his lights, and creeps the vehicle through the entrance and parks.
((con't))
And that was just tonight. What will the thug remember tomorrow? Panic rising in his esophagus, he hangs his head out of the window, and the wind at sixty MPH is a balmy breeze compared to his jangling nerves.
The stench of various domesticated species sharing living quarters reaches him well before his headlights illuminate the sign to Happy Pony Petting Zoo. Heathcliff slows down as he drives past, but doesn't see any kind of security. He turns around, dims his lights, and creeps the vehicle through the entrance and parks.
((con't))
Fractured
Re: Happy Pony
by Fractured Thu Jun 11, 2009 10:30 pm
His muscles still engorged with blood, Heathcliff easily climbs up the barred entrance and vaults over. All of the animals are kept in pens overnight, Heathcliff discovers. Every pen has a lock, which, while it does not prevent a barrier, it does prevent anyone from thinking the culprit of tonight's deeds is a wild animal.
[/i]Needs must,[i] he sighs. He remembers Rachel, laughing sweetly in this place, years ago, as she brushed the mane of a pony. Beth is there, too, and he has his daughter in his arms, and there is smiling, and the bright, bright sun...
A goat, its sleep troubled with the process of digesting a Coke can, is the first to notice a predator in their midst. He begins braying, waking the other animals. Soon the racket will draw attention. Nervous as he is, Heathcliff decides he must move quickly and determinedly. He picks up a handy dung shovel, and breaks the lock on the first pen.
The goat tries to back into a corner, its eyes mad with terror, before Heathcliff levels a solid blow to its forehead, and it slumps to the ground. He moves beside it and takes every drop. It's not nearly enough. He licks the wound, and immediately uses the animal's sacrifice to heal some of the deeper bruises. Then he takes up his shovel and moves to the next pen...
By the end of the night, Heathcliff had killed two cows, an elderly horse, a pair of sheep, and the goat. His body recovered, both from the earlier wounds and the strange illness that had befallen him, climbs back over the fence, taking the shovel with him, and rolls out of the parking lot as slowly as he dares, and doesn't hit the lights until he's a quarter mile down this lonely stretch of road.
Back to Sacramento, to continue his Requiem.
[/i]Needs must,[i] he sighs. He remembers Rachel, laughing sweetly in this place, years ago, as she brushed the mane of a pony. Beth is there, too, and he has his daughter in his arms, and there is smiling, and the bright, bright sun...
A goat, its sleep troubled with the process of digesting a Coke can, is the first to notice a predator in their midst. He begins braying, waking the other animals. Soon the racket will draw attention. Nervous as he is, Heathcliff decides he must move quickly and determinedly. He picks up a handy dung shovel, and breaks the lock on the first pen.
The goat tries to back into a corner, its eyes mad with terror, before Heathcliff levels a solid blow to its forehead, and it slumps to the ground. He moves beside it and takes every drop. It's not nearly enough. He licks the wound, and immediately uses the animal's sacrifice to heal some of the deeper bruises. Then he takes up his shovel and moves to the next pen...
By the end of the night, Heathcliff had killed two cows, an elderly horse, a pair of sheep, and the goat. His body recovered, both from the earlier wounds and the strange illness that had befallen him, climbs back over the fence, taking the shovel with him, and rolls out of the parking lot as slowly as he dares, and doesn't hit the lights until he's a quarter mile down this lonely stretch of road.
Back to Sacramento, to continue his Requiem.
Fractured
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