She can't put her under. She can't. She needs the pain to focus on, needs the hard pulse of her heart and the pounding of her lungs, needs the flare of her rage and fear to hold onto.
She can smell the blood. Feel the crushed bones and the nerve endings singing out their song of agony.
"Pain. Is good, Katya," she grinds out, through gritted teeth, hauling with every ounce of her power. "It means. You're still. Alive."
The Twilight hears the sizzle and crackle of energy and rails against her stealing its hard fought prize from its jaws.
"Not. Today!"
With one last great surge of power, she clutches the chilled body to her and falls back through the door onto the wet, muddy grass. The air expands and then contracts violently around them, sending out a sound like an artillery shell vibrating across the lake and rattling the windows of the bar.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-11-24 06:24 am (UTC)She can smell the blood. Feel the crushed bones and the nerve endings singing out their song of agony.
"Pain. Is good, Katya," she grinds out, through gritted teeth, hauling with every ounce of her power. "It means. You're still. Alive."
The Twilight hears the sizzle and crackle of energy and rails against her stealing its hard fought prize from its jaws.
"Not. Today!"
With one last great surge of power, she clutches the chilled body to her and falls back through the door onto the wet, muddy grass. The air expands and then contracts violently around them, sending out a sound like an artillery shell vibrating across the lake and rattling the windows of the bar.