Title: Hunt For the Creature
Author: Allie
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: I’m a true Edward/Anita shipper so it pains me that Anita doesn’t
appear in this. Right now, the paring is Edward and his weapons. Still
pretty damn good.
Disclaimer: You know the drill, I own nothing blah blah blah. If I did own
Anita’s world Edward and Anita would be a kick-ass tag team for preternatural
baddies and involved in mucho R-rated scenes.
Summary: *shrug* Not quite sure why I decided to write this. I watched Jeepers
Creepers a couple days ago and this wouldn’t go away until I wrote it. Not the
best thing I ever did...but it’s got Edward so I’m happy. This might be
confusing if you haven’t seen the movie. If you have, then it’s after everything
happened and Edward was called down to hunt the creature......
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The rusty pipe of the dark building slowly leaked brown, slimy water. Dark
shadows danced on the walls, like the spirits of the tortured people, un-lucky
enough to have something the creature desired.
A smile graced his lips as he remembered the screams.
For a formerly abandoned building, it was noisy. Though, not with the usual
sounds. The high pitched squeals of laughing children, or the virginal giggling
of young girls didn’t exist within the walls. Shrieks of terror, or pleads for
mercy perhaps. But then, it wasn’t called the “House of Pain” for nothing. The
sounds that floated around the body-coated hallways were not normal.
Black crows outside cawed, as if warning passer-bys of death. Or maybe
promising it...
The rusty pipes and old metal groaned and creaked, sounding like moans. The
helpless and hopeless moans of those over whelmed with fear and pain, and not
the tiniest spark of hope. The moans of those who no longer feared death, but
rather feared living.
The dripping water sounded like blood. The blood that ran off the pain withered
bodies. Bodies mutilated, cut up, and sewn back together so that the very
thread used told the story of endless hours of pain.
And now, the sound of a needle poking into flesh, and thick thread pulling
gashes closed echoed softly in the dimly lit room.
The smile returned, this time in memory of the sweet feeling of the knife,
which caused the wound he was now sewing up.
As the last stitch was completed, and a knot made to tie off the end, he put
the needle down. Casting a last glance at the twisted body below he turned
around and walked out the door. The refrain of a well known song trailing
behind him...
Jeepers Creepers.
Where’d you get those peepers?
Jeepers Creepers.
Where’d you get those eyes?
The sun glinted off his blond hair as he walked to his car.