Two star-crossed lovers meet again. WARNING: Violence and blood. SO much blood.
It's later in the day when Ryan gets off the subway, a few last minute supplies in his arms. For one reason or another, there aren't many people about at this hour -- a busker with his guitar slung in his arms, hat out, waiting for a few precious dollars -- a woman behind Ryan, talking into her cell-phone -- a big heavy-set dude who looks like a biker with headphones through which Ryan can just /barely/ hear the strains of hardcore deathmetal rumbling...
But when Ryan gets off the subway, none of those people are following him at this stop -- which means, besides the elderly busker, he's alone. And as he starts to move forward... he might notice the busker doesn't seem to be moving. His head is tipped forward -- sleeping, maybe? Not an ideal place to snooze, particularly not with a hat full of money in front of him.
Ryan disboards the subway, arms laden with two reusable, cloth shopping bags filled to the brim with his store-haul. Large earphones over his head, he rocks out to his own rhythm, deaf to the world as he makes his way from his stop towards home. Sensitive to the plights of other musicians, habit draws him near rather than innate curiosity, one bag shifted up over his shoulders to free one hand to dig around for spare change in his pocket. As he leans over to drop his miscellaneous collection, however, he stops and peers closer. Ok, this guys is definitely not taking a break.
No, he isn't. The signs of foul play are subtle -- but a close, careful eye can see them. His skin... it's off-color. /Wrong/. A paleish blue instead of flesh-tone. And... as Ryan gets closer, he begins to realize. This man... he's not elderly. He's just /wrinkled/.
"She was delicious," the voice purrs out to Ryan, and it comes -- literally -- from /everywhere/. The whole passageway radiates with the sound; as if dozens of mouths were whispering it to him from every far corner. And then, as Ryan watches, he sees something... happening. The concrete above him -- the corners, the bricks, even the /floor/ -- it's all starting to *bleed*.
Drops of it fall from over head... down to his shoulders. *SPLAT*.
"The girl," the voice says, and now it's centered directly /above/ him. Where something red and horrible has started to spread. Something red and horrible and with /teeth/ and /eyes/ that glow like two pale, luminous moons. "Your friend. The one with the explosions? I ate her. She was so /sweet/."
"What was her name."
Ryan drops down to a full crouch, on the tiptoes of his combat boots, setting his grocery bags down beside him. Peering closer, a look of utter revulsion overcomes him and he falls back flat on his ass, kicking at his purchases and scrambling back. "Shit! Fuck!" His face blanches white, then acquires a sickly green tinge at the blood spatter on his shoulder, head tilting back to peer up at the direction of the voice. "/Come out you sick bastard/" he shouts, voice ricocheting off the subways walls as he manipulates the sounds waves to echolocate the creature, attempting to hone in on him. "Ugh." He swiftly pushes himself up to his feet at the creature's taunting, sending a sonic pulse with more force at those two eyes.
Ripple, ripple, echo, echo -- at first, Ryan might think his sense of echolocation is faulty, because the reading he's getting back doesn't make any sense... but then it might occur to him: It makes sense if you assume this thing is /everywhere/. Particularly on the ceilings. Its form is /smeared/ over them -- spreading out like some sort of sick, putrid strawberry jam -- those luminous eyes like 'decals' painted on top of some upside-down soup, swimming along the ceiling with no thought or concern for what should be feasible given a human being's anatomy.
"Nnnergh," the /thing/ says, and more blood drips -- the waves buffet its spreading shape. Even at a relatively low thrum, it does not /like/ sonics. And so it decides to respond -- by descending. All of it. At once.
Ever see the Shining? The infamous 'bloody elevator' scene? That, only there is no elevator -- there is just a rush of CRIMSON descending from the ceiling, *rushing* down behind Ryan -- something red swelling up. Crackling. Vaguely humanoid. Brimming with... mouths. So many mouths. So many teeths. So many hooks, needles, knives, and barbs. It's... as big as a goddamn U-Haul.
"Tell me her NAAAAAAAME," it chants, before giggling, *lunging* toward Ryan, so many hooks and knives and edges all swinging out for him, REACHING for him, mouths snapping and teeth hooking. "I ATE SO /MANY/ OF YOUR FRIIIIIIENDS!"
"Shitfuckugh," Ryan's running commentary of obscenities distracts him from the sickening and terrifying navigational feedback he's receiving as well as continuing to provide him sound to manipulate. The audiokinetic chokes, stifling a repulsed reaction to the sheer enormity of the bloodmonster pooling across the ceiling. His fingers are quick to fumble into his pocket, spinning the circular touch pad on his iPod with his thumb to amp up the volume emanating from his headphone suspended around his neck. "/Fuck you/," he shouts, though his skittering forward, *into* the bloodless busker betrays his fear at the hemokinetic's backward goo-grab, a large, concussive wall of sound blasted at all those /reaching/ for him; inevitably the element of surprise means some of those mouths with their needle teeth bite into him, earning additional outcries of pain. "/Back off/," sends another disruptive wave of frequency at the amassed uber-gigantic-form of the creature.
There are footsteps coming down the subway, first a regular pace but more hurried at the sound of Ryan's voice. "Ryan? /Ryan/?" Jax has gotten his farecard out but now he is /vaulting/ over the turnstile, his single eye huge and wide as he -- stares. Just stares, for a moment, looking around with his expression paling. "Ryan, run." Something shimmers, translucent-prismatic in a wall between Ryan and the /things/ lunging for him. He's not running, though, at least not /away/, racing /towards/ the audiokinetic through this.
It's a good thing, too. Because whatever this /thing/ is, it apparently was fully aware of Ryan's capabilities -- and fully expecting to get a face full of volume. The instant the sonic scream hits, it shudders and ripples beneath the force -- its mass *splatting* against the far wall -- but then it spreads its remaining mass outward, seeking to /envelope/ the space around where that blast of noise eminated -- coming in from multiple angles. And it's not looking for a taste this time -- oh, no. Any hook, any barb, any knive that gets into meat... is going to tear and gouge and *rip* flesh apart.
It's giggling joy is interrupted, however, by the sudden prismatic shield that *tears* across the space between it and Ryan -- interrupting its claw-like appendages. There's a hissing shriek, and then it's *flinging* back -- suddenly, it's form has collapsed. Into the shape of a skittering spider -- approximately the size of a ford truck. It's leaving behind... a lot of blood. The audiokinetic blast took, with it, a considerable amount of mass -- splattered over the floor and walls like some grim spectacle of a murder-scene. But now, it's skittering back toward the train tracks, sprouting a dozen mouths over its body, all of which hiss at Ryan and Jackson with nothing short of pure /hatred/:
"I'll find you when you're alone...!" it whisper-screams. "WHEN YOU'RE ALOOOOOOONE..."
Ryan holds up an arm over his face to fend off meat hooks, mouths, or general rains of blood. "Jax!" He calls, tearing his gaze away for a split second from the blood monster in front him, taking advantage of the prismatic shields to sprint from the creature towards Jax. Already injured from the first assault of blood blades, his speed lags with a half-limp, and he trips when the second, murderous attack rends down the back of his calf, tearing through jeans and carving up his skin, other smaller nicks and cuts sustained. His cry of pain follows the creature down the train tracks, booming with destructive energy. "Augh..." Give him a moment to collect his senses and pick himself up.
Jackson reaches for Ryan when Ryan trips, one hand reaching to scoop the other man to his feet. Scoop him and then hold him, more protective than affectionate, the shield remaining for a moment between them and the retreating monster. It fades away, though, replaced instead by a hot-white bolt of light that sizzles its way towards one of those screaming mouths. "Ryan, are you -- is it -- we should get you home." Tension grips his muscles, hard and taut, his eye trained steady on the skittering bloodmonster. "-- we let that thing out," is softer, fraught with the same unhappy tension that holds his form.
The bolt of light hits -- and *sears*. Blood bubbles and swells as the mouth gurgles, others picking up a shrill, screaming cry -- and then the creature is gone, skittering up along one of the walls, running down into the tunnel -- into darkness. Leaving Jackson to clutch an injured Ryan, a drained busker nearby... and a massive blood-stain not many yards away.
It is at this /particular/ moment that the sounds of a rumbling train can be heard, down the tunnel -- another line due to arrive. And there are the sounds of people from above, along the stairs... All the noise attracted attention. Looks like Jax and Ryan are about to get an audience.
Ryan snakes an arm around Jackson's shoulder to lift himself from the ground, near-collapsing again when he puts too much weight on his eviscerated leg, earning another yelp of pain. "I'm fine-- the groceries." Most of the shopping items have scattered, many rolled down onto the train tracks, others left inside the cloth bags now soaked in blood. Even announcing this residual worry, most of his attention falls on the darkness at the end of the tunnel, where the monster disappears. Leaning against Jax, he mutters, "Shit. /People/."
"-- People." Jackson curls an arm around beneath Ryan's shoulders in return, solid muscles providing a steady support to lean on. "Mnngh." He starts leading the way, over towards the wall. "Forget the groceries, you need a doctor." With the train coming, with people heading down the stairs, Jackson tightens his grip around Ryan's shoulder and -- simply vanishes, taking Ryan with him in a careful mantle of invisibility. Around them, at least. Not so much the blood and groceries and corpse.