Participants:
| Scene Title | Don't Say a Word |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | After Amato leaves, Nadia finds out what lurks in the bushes. |
| Date | September 7, 2010 |
The Greenbelt is 2800 acres of mixed urban parkland and natural preserves that have since gone wild, equal parts dying and thriving in the neglect that the borough of Staten Island has suffered. The more natural areas are primarily a succession of ridges and boulder-littered moraines beneath the canopy of a hardwood forest - beech, hickory, maples, and oaks in the main, with a variety of less common trees mixed in. At the lower points of the parkland, this forest gives way to wetland, overgrown with ferns, skunk cabbage, lady slipper, and trout lilies.
An overgrown golf course is home to unkempt grassland and a site for the island's residents to discard junk. The cemetery is similarly writhed with impossible weeds, and contains the smell of an open grave or several. Stray dogs have taken to existing out in its thicker parts, gone wild and dangerous, and there are other dangers too - desperate cut throat muggers have been known to roam the pathways, and an urban legend of a monster lurks in its shadows.
It's not impossible to get through the Greenbelt without harm, and many make such journeys every day - but its no surprise that very few desire to linger longer than necessary in the midst of dead trees, tangled weeds, and the occasional unpleasant surprise in the dark.
It's been only a few moments since Amato rode off on his mare, and Nadia has seated herself beneath the tree he left her at, grumbling something in her native tongue of Arabic. She reaches into her purse, pulling out a book of her own (Pygmy by Chuck Palahniuk), opening and and settling back to read. She seems to think the book needs to be spoken to, however. "The nerve of that guy. I try to be nice and introduce myself, and he's an asshole about it."
With a shake of her head, Nadia sits back against the tree, settling in for a nice relaxing read in the shade of a tree, with her toes wiggling into the dirt by the stream.
Encroaching towards Nadia, slowly, like a serpent slithering through the grass, is Christmas. All but obscured behind the thick brush, his eyes focus on the young woman through the breaks in the brush. Licking his lips like a starving animal, his fingers flexing, he jumps out from behind the brush.
Not even a foot from where Nadia is seated, his hand shoots out to clamp over her mouth. It wouldn't be good if she screamed, and the man on the horse came back. "Shhhhh. Don't say a word." His voice is low and calm. "You'll have plenty of time for last words soon enough."
The small woman's eyes widen, the resulting scream from being startled pleasantly muffled by Christmas's hand. Her eyes, wide with fear, turn toward her captor, taking in what little of his facial features she can, and for but a moment, she is too stunned to do more than stare, her hands gripping at the man's arm in an attempt to pry him off of her.
Then, her eyes focus on the stream ahead of her, staring down at the rocks that have collected along its banks with a terrified expression on her face.
Christmas' grip is powerful despite his size, the adrenaline flowing through him making the grip he has secured around her head and mouth hard to break from. His eyes burning with hatred, he slips a hand into his pocket to pull out a switchblade that he swings open. "Don't try a thing, or I'll cut your throat right this second. You can still leave here alive." He brings the knife to her throat, pushing her up and onto her feet. "You said you have a connection with the Earth. Are you Evolved?" His tongue snakes out from his lips to lick her ear slowly from lobe to tip.
Nadia certainly doesn't struggle any further, her brow furrowed as she stills, wide eyes flicking to that switchblade. She lets out a muffled sound as he raises her to his feet, avoiding his gaze as she stares anywhere but at him.
While he's busy toying with his prey, his prey has been busy preparing her escape route. There is no sound as the five rocks rise into the air from the banks of the river, hovering there for a moment as she gathers her reserves. Then, an almost defiant look is turned toward him, and she offers a slow nod in response to his question.
Right at that moment, silently, the five rocks, each easily ten pounds by itself, fly right toward Christmas as if they were missiles, aimed for his back and head.
Christmas salivates when Nadia confirms his suspicion that she's Evolved, the switchblade at her throat digging tighter. "That was the wrong answer, little girl. Now I'm going to kill you, and nobody will even remember your name." He prepares to slice that blade across the tender flesh of her throat, but then the rocks slam into his back. One hits the back of his head, causing a deep gash as he tumbles to the ground, switchblade flying into the brush.
His eyes clenched tight, Christmas lets out a growl one might mistake for an animal. Spittle flying from his mouth as he screams, one hand moving to feel the blood pouring from his head. "You fucking CUNT! That is exactly why freaks like you need to be put down! You think you're special? HUH?!" He rolls over, mad eyes staring right at her. "Better run while you can, because I will peel off your flesh and show you it before you die if you don't."
As he falls back, Nadia stumbles back several steps, eyes wide as he lets out that growl. Dammit, she was hoping that would be enough to knock him out. It wasn't. She's several steps back by the time he begins speaking, eyes wide with terror.
At least she's gotten a good look at his face.
Then, he's rolling over, staring at her with that frightening look. And the earth lets out a loud groan beneath the man, all of a sudden. When he rolls over, the ground suddenly simply…gives way beneath him, dropping him into a deep pit, roughly fifteen feet deep.
Eyes wild with hate and anger, Christmas starts to stagger to his feet. Then he feels the ground beneath in rumble and start to shake. "You haven't seen the last of me, little girl." He pulls his hand from the back of his head, blood covering his palm and fingers. He lifts the hand to his mouth, tongue licking up a trail of that thick, warm substance.
As the ground starts to give way under him, his eyes find hers. Even as he begins to fall into the pit, he laughs. The laughter doesn't stop until he hits the dirt fifteen feet below, the loud thump cutting off the sound of his laughter.
The little woman steps forward, now, peeking over the edge to see the man below, where he can't reach her. Her eyes narrow as she takes his form in, her fists clenched at her sides as she glares down at him. The Nadia that speaks now isn't the polite, pleasant woman he saw, speaking to Amato only a few minutes ago. There's no warmth on her features as she stares into the pit she made for him.
"Get the fuck up, motherfucker." This is said with a sneer on her face, her knuckles white at her sides.
Forcing himself to his feet, breath ragged, the air escaping his lips hisses and raspy. Probably a broken rib, maybe two. Maybe the wind just got knocked out of him. He staggers up, then falls back into the side of the wall of dirt. He looks up, not an ounce of fear or sympathy or any kind of emotion on his face, in his eyes other than loathing. He doesn't say a word. He just sneers, then spits up in the air in Nadia's direction.
The gaze that is returned to him is one of hatred, one of someone who knows that she will win. Nadia spits down at him, with her spit more likely to land. At first, she speaks down to him in brusque Arabic, waving her hands. Then, she switches back to her perfect English, crouching down at the edge of the pit with narrowed eyes.
"Throw your wallet up to me. Now." She narrows her eyes down at him.
He laughs. That's how he answers. Christmas doubles over with laughter, then holds a hand up as if to tell the woman fifteen feet above to wait a second until he's done. Finally he stands back up, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not carrying my wallet, and I wouldn't give it to you if I was. You got two options, bitch. Kill me or walk away."
The walls seem to crumble slightly, sending dirt down onto the man, though they still hold. Nadia narrows her eyes at him. "You absolutely sure about that?" She tilts her head down at him, her eyes still narrowed. "I'm sure you don't want to suffer the death that awaits. I need something of an incentive to let you live, I think. After all, you could come after me at any time."
"Go fuck yourself, lady," is Christmas' reply. "You want to be a freak, use your ability to kill me? Go ahead." He starts walks towards the other side of the dirt well he's in, hands and feet digging in as he starts to try and climb up and out. "Or you better not be up there when I get out of here."
Suddenly, the walls become smooth, sending him back down to the ground. "Fuck you, motherfucker. If I see you again, I will fucking kill you. I will fucking follow you home and destroy your fucking building, and kill you and everybody you love. You'd better pray to God that you don't see me again, you little fuckhead, or you will wish you were never born!" She shouts this in almost as animalistic a tone as he was using moments ago, spitting down at him.
She storms off, her bare feet silent on the ground. Moments later, a stick, thick enough to support weight, is thrown into the pit, aimed for his head. "Good luck getting out!"
Nadia is, after all, an aspiring actress. She manages to keep the tears to herself until she is a good distance away from the area, using the stream to mask her trail.